Childe Harold's Pilgrimage

   Such be the sons of Spain, and strange her fate! 
   They fight for freedom, who were never free;
   A kingless people for a nerveless state,
   Her vassals combat when their chieftains flee,
   True to the veriest slaves of Treachery;
   Fond of a land which gave them nought but life,
   Pride points the path that leads to liberty;
   Back to the struggle, baffled in the strife,
War, war is still the cry, ‘War even to the knife!’