Of Heaven, again the ominous warner cried,

Commence thy course of glory! Time hath seen Woe! woe! the Cycle of the Years is full!

Four generations of mankind destroyed, Quench every fire! Extinguish every light!

When the four Suns expired; Oh, let not thou, And every fire was quenched, and every light

Human thyself of yore, the human race
Extinguished at the voice.

Languish and die in darkness!
Meantime the Priests

The fourth Sun Began the rites. They gashed themselves, and plunged Had perished; for the mighty Whirlwinds rose, Into the sacred pond of Eza pan,

And swept it, with the dust of the shattered world, Till the clear water, on whose bed of sand

Into the great abyss. The eternal Gods
The sunbeams sparkled late, opaque with blood, Built a new World, and to a Hero race
On its black surface mirrored all things round. Assigned it for their goodly dwelling-place;
The children of the temple, in long search

And shedding on the bones of the destroyed
Had gathered, for the service of this day,

A quickening dew, from them, as from a seed, All venomous things that fly, or wind their path Made a new race of humankind spring up, With sinuous trail, or crawl on reptile feet.

The menials of the fleroes born of Heaven. These, in one cauldron, o'er the sacred fire

But in the firmament no orb of day They scorch, till of the loathsome living tribes, Performed its course; Nature was blind; the fount Who, writing in their burning agonies,

Of light had ceased to flow; the eye of Heaven Fix on each other ill-directed wounds,

Was quenched in darkness. In the sad obscure, Ashes alone are left. In infants' blood

The earth-possessors to their parent Gods
They mix the infernal unction, and the Priests Prayed for another Sun, their bidding heard,
Anoint themselves therewith.

And, in obedience, raised a flaming pile.
Lo! from the South

Hopeful they circled it, when from above
The Orb of Glory his regardless way

The voice of the Invisible proclaimed, Holds on. Again Patamba's streets receive

That he who bravely plunged amid the fire The ominous voice,- Woe! woe! the Sun pursues Should live again in Heaven, and there shine forth His journey to the limits of his course!

The Sun of the young World. The Hero race Let every man in darkness veil his wife,

Grew pale, and from the fiery trial shrunk.
Veil every maiden's face; let

every
child

Thou, O Nahuaztin, thou, O mortal horn,
Be hid in darkness, there to weep and pray,

Heardëst! thy heart was strong, the flames received That they may see again the birth of light!

Their victim, and the humbled Heroes saw
They heard, and every husband veiled bis wife The orient sky, with smiles of rosy joy,
In darkness; every maiden's face was veiled:

Welcome the coming of the new-born God.
The children were in darkness led to pray,

0, human once, now let not humankind That they might see the birth of light once more. Languish, and die in darkness!

In the East Westward the Sun proceeds; the tall tree casts

Then didst thou pause to see the Hero race A longer shade; the night-eyed insect tribes

Perish. In vain, with impious arms, they strove Wake to their portion of the circling hours;

Against thy will ; in vain against thine orb The water-fowl, retiring to the shore,

They shot their shafts; the arrows of their pride Sweep in long files the surface of the lake.

Fell on themselves; they perished, to thy praise. Then from Patamba to the sacred mount

So perish still thine impious enemies, The Priests go forth; but with no songs of joy, O Lord of Day! But to the race devout, Nor cheerful instruments they go, nor train

Who offer

up

their morning sacrifice, Of festive followers; silent and alone,

Honouring thy yodhead, and with morning hymns, Leading one victim to his dreadful death,

And with the joy of music and of dance, They to the mountain-summit wend their way. Welcome thy glad uprise, -to them, 0 Sun,

Still let the fountain-streams of splendour flow! On the south shore, and level with the lake,

Still smile on them propitious, thou whose smile Patamba stood; westward were seen the walls

Is light and life and joyance! Once again, Of Aztlan rising on a gentle slope;

Parent of Being, Prince of Glory, rise!
Southward the plain extended far and wide;

Begin thy course of beauty once again!
To the cast the mountaio-boundary began,
And there the sacred mountain reared its head, Such was their ancient song, as up the beiglat
Above the neighbouring heights, its lofty peal

Slowly they wound their way. The multitude Was visible far off. In the vale below,

Beneath

repeat the strain ; with fearful eyes Along the level borders of the lake,

They watch the spreading glories of the west; The assembled Aztecas, with wistful eye,

And when at length the hastening orb bath sunk Gaze on the sacred summit, hoping there

Below the plain, such sinking at the heart Soon to behold the fire of sacrifice

They feel, as he who hopeless of return Arise, sure omen of continued light.

From his dear home departs. Still on the light, The Pabas to the sacred peak begin

The last green light that lingers in the west, Their way, and as they go, with ancient songs

Their looks are fastened, till the clouds of night Hymn the departing Sun.

Roll on, and close in darkness the whole heaven. 0, Light of Life,

Theo ccased their songs; then o'er the crowded vale Yet once again arise! yet once again

No voice of man is heard. Silent and still

They siood, all turned toward the east, in hope
There on the holy mountain to behold
The sacred fire, and know that once again
The Sun begins his stated round of years.

Who thronged her level shores? The mighty Lake
Hath burst its bounds, and yon wide valley roars,
A troubled sea, before the rolling storm.

The Moon arose; she shone

upon
the lake,

XXVII.
Which lay one smooth expanse of silver light;
She shone upon the hills and rocks, and cast

The Migration of the Aztecas.
Upon their hollows and their hidden glens
A blacker depth of shade. Who then looked round, Tae storm hath ceased; but still the lava-tides
Beholding all that mighty multitude,

Roll down the mountain-side in streams of fire; Felt yet severer awe; so solemnly still

Down to the lake they roll, and yet

roll on, The thronging thousands stood. The breeze was heard All burning, through the waters. Heaven above That rustled in the reeds; the little wave,

Glows round the burning mount, and fiery clouds Which rippled to the shore and left no foam,

Scour through the black and starless firmament. Sent its low murmurs far.

Far off, the Eagle, in her mountain-nest,
Meantime the Priests Lies watching in alarm, with steady eye,
Have stretched their victim on the mountain-top; The midnight radiance.
A miserable man: his breast is bare,

But the storm hath ceased;
Bare for the death that waits him; but no hand The earth is still;—and lo! while yet the dawn
May there inflict the blow of mercy. Piled

Is struggling through the eastern cloud, the barks On his bare breast, the cedar boughs are laid;

Of Madoc on the waters! On his bare breast, dry sedge and odorous gums

Who is he Laid ready to receive the sacred spark,

On yonder crag, all dripping from the lake, And blaze, to herald the ascending Sun,

Who hath escaped its depths? He lies along, Upon his living altar. Round the wretch

Now near exhaust with self-preserving toil, The inhuman ministers of rites accurst

And still his eye dwells on the spreading waves, Scand, and expect the signal when to strike,

Where late the multitudes of Aztlan stood, The seed of fire. Their Chief, Tezozomoc,

Collected in their strength. It is the King
Apart from all, upon the pinnacle

Of Aztlan, who, extended on the rock,
Of that high mountain, eastward turns his eyes; Looks vainly for his people. He beholds
For now the hour draws nigh, and speedily

The barks of Madoc plying to preserve
He looks to see the first faint dawn of day

The strugglers !--but how few ! upon

the

crags Break through the orient sky.

Which verge the northern shore, upon the heights Impatiently

Eastward, how few bave refuged! Then the King The multitude await the happy sign.

Almost repented him of life preserved, Long hath the midnight past, and every hour,

And wished the waves had whelmed him, or the sword Yea every moment, to their torturing fears

Fallen on him, ere this ill, this wretchedness, Seemed lengthened out, insufferably long.

This desolation. Spirit-troubled thus, Silent they stood, and breathless in suspense.

He called to mind how, from the first, his heart The breeze had fallen; no stirring breath of wind

Inclined to peace, and how reluctantly, Rustled the reeds. Oppressive, motionless,

Obedient to the Pabas and their Gods, It was a labour and a pain to breathe

Had he to this unhappy war been driven. The close, hot, heavy air.-Hark! from the woods All now was ended : it remained to yield, The howl of their wild tenants! and the birds,

To obey the inevitable will of lleaven, The day-birds, in blind darkness fluttering,

From Aztlan to depart. thus he mused, Fearful to rest, uttering portentous cries!

A bird, upon a bough which overhung Anon, the sound of distant thunders came;

The rock, as though in echo to his thought, They peal beneath their feet. Earth shakes and yawns, Cried out, -Depart! depart! for so the note, And lo! upon the sacred mountain's top,

Articulately in his native tongue, The light-the mighty flame! A cataract

Spake to the Azteca.72 The King looked up. Of fire bursts upward from the mountain-head, - The hour, the horrors round him, had impressed High-high,-it shoots! the liquid fire boils out; Feelings and fears well fitted to receive It streams --it torrents down! Tezozomoc

All superstition; and the voice which cried, Beholds the judgment: wretched, -wretched man! Depart! depart! seemed like the voice of fate. On the upmost pinnacle he stands, and secs

He thought, perhaps Coanocotzin's soul, The la va floods beneath him: and his hour

Descending from his blissful halls in the hour Js come. The fiery shower, descending, heaps

Of evil thus to comfort and advise, Red ashes round; they fall like drifted snows,

Hovered above him. And bury and consume the accursed Priest.

Lo! toward the rock,

Oaring with feeble arms his difficult way,
The Tempest is abroad. Fierce from the North A struggler hastens : he hath reached the rock,
The wind uptears the lake, whose lowest depths Hath graspt it, but his strength, exhausted, fails
Rock, while convulsions shake the solid earth.

To lift him from the depth. The King descends Where is Patamba? where the multitudes

Timely in aid; he holds the feeble one

the

We bow before their will! To them we yield;

Whom wisely fear and feebleness deter To you, their favourites, we resign the land

To tempt strange paths, through swamp and wilderness Our fathers conquered. Never more may Fate, And hostile tribes, for these Yuhidthiton In your days or your children's, to the end

Asks thy protection. Under thy mild sway,
Of time, afflict it thus !

They will remember me without regret,
He said, and called

Yet not without affection. They shall be
The Heralds of his pleasure.-Go ye forth

My people, Madoc answered. -- And the rites Throughout the land: North, south, and east, and west, Of holiness transmitted from their sires, Proclaim the ruin. Say to all who bear

Pursued the King, - will tliese be suffered them ?The name of Azteca, that Heaven liath crushed Blood must not flow, the Christian Prince replied; Their country: Say, the voice of Heaven was heard, - No Priest must dwell among us; that hath been Heard ye it not?-bidding us leave the land,

The cause of all this misery!-Enough, Who shakes us from her bosom. Ye will find

Yuhidthiton replied; I ask no more. Women, old men, and babes; the many, weak

It is not for the conquered to impose Of body and of spirit ill prepared,

Thcir law

upon

the

conqueror. With painful toil, through long and dangerous ways

Then he turned, To seek another country. Say to thein,

And lifted up bis voice, and called upon The White Men will not lift the arm of power

The people :- All whom fear or feebleness Against the feeble; here they may remain

Withhold from following my adventurous path, In peace, and to the

grave

in
peace go down.

Prince Madoc will receive. No blood must flow,
But they who would not have their children lose No Paba dwell among them. Take upon ye,
The name their fathers bore, will join our marchi, Ye who are weak of body or of heart,
Ere ye set forth, behold the destined way!

The strangers' easy yoke: beneath their sway

Ye will remember me without regret. He bade a pile be raised upon top

Soon take your choice, and speedily depart, Of that high eminence, to all the winds

Lest ye impede the adventurers.--As he spake Exposed. They raised the pile, and left it free Tears flowed, and groans were heard. The line was To all the winds of Heaven; Yuhidthiton

drawn, Alone approached it, and applied the torch.

Which whoso would accept the Strangers' yoke The day was calm, and o'er the flaming pile

Should pass. A multitude o'erpast the line; The wavy smoke hung lingering, like a inist

But all the youth of Aztian crowded round
That in the morning tracks the valley-stream.

Yuhidthiton, their own beloved Kiog.
Swell over swell it rose, erect above,
On all sides spreading like a stately palm,

So two days long, with unremitting toil,
So moveless were the winds. Upward it rolled, The barks of Britain to the adventurers
Still upward, when a stream of

Bore due supply; and to new habitants Crossed it, and beat its top, and drove it on,

The city of the Cymry spread her gates; Straight over Azuan. An acclaiming shout

And in the vale around, and on the heights, Welcomed the will of Heaven; for lo, the smoke Their numerous tents were pitched. Meantime the tale Fast travelling on, while not a breath of air

Of ruin went abroad, and how the Gods
Is felt below, Ye see the appointed course!

Had driven her sons from Aztlan. To the King,
Exclaimed the King. Proclaim it where ye go! Companions of his venturous enterprise,
On the third morning we begin our marcha.

The bold repaired; the timid and the weak,

All whom, averse from perilous wanderings, Soon o'er the lake a winged galley sped,

A gentler nature had disposed to peace, Wafting the Ocean Prince. He bore, preserved, Beneath the Strangers' easy rule remained. When Aztlan's bloody temples were cast down,

Now the third morning came. At break of day The Ashes of the Dead. The King received

The mountain echoes to the busy sound The relics, and his heart was full; his eye

Of multitudes. Before the moving tribe Dwelt on his father's urn. At length he said,

The Pabas bear, enclosed from public sight, One more request, 0 Madoc!- If the lake

Mexitli; and the aslies of the Kings Should ever to its ancient bounds return,

Follow the Chair of God.73 Yuhidihiton Shrined in the highest of Patamba's towers

Then leads the marshalled ranks, and by his side, Coanocotzin rests. But wherefore this?

Silent and thoughtfully, went Tlalala. Thou wilt respect the ashes of the King.

At the north gate of Aztlan, Malinal, Then said the Prince, Abide not here, 0 King,

Borne in a litter, waited their approach; Thus open to the changeful elements;

And now alighi as the train drew nigh, But till the day of your departure come,

Propt by a friendly arm, with feeble stcp Sojourn with me.—Madoc, that must not be!

Advanced to meet the King. Yuhidthiton, Yuhidthiton replied. Shall I behold

With eye severe and darkening countenance, A stranger dwelling in my father's house?

Met his advance. I did not think, quoth he, Shall I become a guest, where I was wont

Thou wouldst have ventured this! and liefer far To give the guest his welcome?—lle pursued,

Should I have borne away with me the thought After short pause of speech,-For our old men, That Malinal had shunned his brother's sight, And helpless babes and women; for all those

Because their common blood yet raised in him

upper air,