Bear the maiden o'er the border
To Algeria's princely hall !"
Hark, the shock ! the clang of weapons !
They have met — the battle cry
Rises shrill — the conflict deepens —
How they charge, they wheel, they fly,
Then return, the fight renewing,
With a fierce and frantic yell,
Thirsty sands with blood bedewing —
Men are they, or fiends of hell ?
Fatmeh, see ! now here, now yonder,
How the bright-haired Northman wheels !
Stroke on stroke like rattling thunder
With resistless arm he deals !
Count the lifted spears that quiver,
Aimed at breast of Christian foe —
Count the broken spears that shiver
'Neath his swifter, surer blow !