The king our Emperor Carlemaine, Hath been for seven full years in Spain. From highland to sea hath he won the land; City was none might his arm withstand; Keep and castle alike went down-- Save Saragossa, the mountain town. The King Marsilius holds the place, Who loveth not God, nor seeks His grace: He prays to Apollin, and serves Mahound; But he saved him not from the fate he found. In Saragossa King Marsil made His council-seat in the orchard shade, On a stair of marble of azure hue. There his courtiers round him drew; While there stood, the king before, Twenty thousand men and more. Thus to his dukes and his counts he said, "Hear ye, my lords, we are sore bested. The Emperor Karl of gen…
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