The Pounder

The Christians have beleaguer'd the famous walls of Xeres,
Among them are Don Alvar and Don Diego Perez,
And many other gentlemen, who, day succeeding day,
Give challenge to the Saracen and all his chivalry.

When rages the hot battle before the gates of Xeres,
By trace of gore ye may explore the dauntless path of Perez.
No knight like Don Diego—no sword like his is found
In all the host, to hew the boast of Paynims to the ground.

It fell one day when furiously they battled on the plain,
Diego shiver'd both his lance and trusty blade in twain;
The Moors that saw it shouted, for esquire none was near,
To serve Diego at his need with faulchion, mace, or spear.

Loud, loud he blew his bugle, sore troubled was his eye,
But by God's grace before his face there stood a tree full nigh,
A comely tree with branches strong, close by the wall of Xeres—
"Yon goodly bough will serve, I trow," quoth Don Diego Perez.

A gnarled branch he soon did wrench down from that olive strong,
Which o'er his head-piece brandishing, he spurs among the throng.
God wot! full many a Pagan must in his saddle reel!—
What leech shall cure, what priest shall shrive, if once that weight ye feel?

But when Don Alvar saw him thus bruising down the foe,
Quoth he, "I've seen some flail-arm'd man belabour barley so!
Sure mortal mould did ne'er enfold such mastery of power;
Let's call Diego Perez the Pounder from this hour."—