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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

By his long locks, and on the safety-place
Lands him. He, panting, from his clotted hair
Shook the thick waters, from his forehead wiped
The blinding drops; on his preserver's face
Then looked, and knew the king. Then Tlalala
Fell on his neck, and groaned. They laid them down
In silence, for their hearts were full of woe.
The sun came forth, and shone upon the rock;
They felt the kindly beams; their strengthened blood
Flowed with a freer action. They arose,
And looked around, if aught of hope might meet
Their prospect. On the lake the galleys plied
Their toil successfully, ever to the shore
Bearing their rescued charge: the eastern heights,
luchtward and Jeftward of the fiery mount,
Were thronged with fugitives, whose growing crowds
Speckled the ascent. Then Tlalala took hope,
And his young heart, reviving, re-assumed
Its wonted vigour. Let us to the heights,
He cried ;-all is not lost! Yuhidthiton!
When they behold thy countenance, the sight
Will cheer them in their woe, and they will bless
The Gods of Aztlan.

To the heights they went
And when the remnant of the people saw
Yuhidihiton preserved, such comfort then
They felt, as utter wretchedaess can feel,
That only gives grief utterance, only speaks
In groans and recollections of the past.
He looked around; a multitude was there, -
But where the strength of Azulan? where her hosts?
Her marshalled myriads where, whom yester Sun
Had seen in arms arrayed, in spirit high,
Mighty in youth and courage?—What were these,
This remnant of the people? Women most,
Who from Patamba when the shock began
Ran with their infants; widowed now, yet each
Among the few who from the lake escaped,
Wandering, with

cager eyes and wretched hope. The King beheld and groaned; against a tree He leant, and bowed his head, subdued of soul,

In the dark midnight, go and burn and kill,
Till all their dreams shall be of fire and death,
Their sleep be fear and misery.

Then the King
Stretched forth his hand, and pointed to the lake
Where Madoc's galleys still to those who clung
To the tree-tops for life, or faintly still
Were floating on the waters, gave their aid.-
O think not, Tlalala, that ever more
Will I against those noble enemies
Raise my right hand in war, lest righteous Heaven
Should blast the impious hand and thankless heart!
The Gods are leagued with them; the Elements
Banded against us! for our overthrow
Were yonder mountain-springs of fire ordained
For our destruction the earth-thunders loosed,
And the everlasting boundaries of the lake
Gave way, that these destroying floods might roll
Over the brave of Azelan!- We must leave
The country which our fathers won in arms;
We must depart.

The word yet vibrated Fresh on their hearing, when the Bird above, Flapping bis heavy wings, repeats the sound, Depart! depart!-Ye hear! the King exclaimed; It is an omen sent to me from Heaven; I heard it late in solitude, the voice Of fale. It is Coanocotzin's soul, Who counsels our departure. And the Bird Still flew around, and in his wheeling flight Pronounced the articulate note. The people heard In faith, and Tlalala made no reply; But dark his brow, and gloomy was liis frown.

Then spake the King, and called a messenger,
And bade him speed to Azılan.-Seek the Lord
Of Ocean; tell him that Yuhidihiton
Yields to the will of Heaven, and leaves the land
His fathers won in war. Only one boon,
In memory of our former friendship, ask,
The Ashes of my Fathers,-if indeed
The conqueror have not cast them to the winds!

Meantime, amid the crowd, doth Tlalala
Seek for his wife and boy. lo vain be seeks
Ilanquel there; in vain for her he asks:
A troubled look, a melancholy eye,
A silent motion of the liopeless head,
These answer him.

But Tlalala represt
Ilis anguish, and he called upon the king,-
Yuhidthiton! thou seest thy people left;
Their fate must be determined; they are here
Houseless, and wanting food.

The King looked up,-
It is determined, Tlalala! the Gods
Have crushed us. Who can stand against their wrath?
Have we not life and strength? the Tiger cried.
Disperse these women to the towns which stand
Beyond the ruinous waters; against them
The White Men will not war. Ourselves are few,
Too few to root the invaders from our land,
Or meet them with the hope of equal fight:
Yet may we shelter in the woods, and share
The Lion's liberty; and man by man
Destroy them, till they shall not dare to walk
Beyond their city walls, to sow their fields,
Or bring the harvest in. We may steal forth

The herald went his way, circuitous,
Along the mountains,--for the flooded vale
Barred the near passage: but before bis sect
Could traverse half their track, the fugitives
Beheld canoes from Azılan, to the foot
Of that protecting eminence, whereon
They had their stand, draw nigh. The doubtful sight
Disturbed them, lest perchance with liostile strength
They came upon their weakness. Wrongful fear:-
For now Cadwallon, from his bark, unarmed,
Set foot ashore, and for Yuhidthiton
Enquired, if yet he lived. The King receives
His former friend.-From Madoc come I here,
The Briton said : Raiment and food he sends,
Aud
peace ;

so shall this visitation prove A blessing, if it knit the bonds of

peace, And make us as one people.

Tlalala!
Hearest thou him? Yuhidthicon exclaimed.
Do thou thy bidding, King! the Tiger cried :
My path is plain.—Thereat Yuhidthiton,
Answering, replied, Thus humbled as thou seest,
Beneath the visitation of the Gods,

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,

A sense of his own shame!-Comest thou to show
Those wounds, the marks of thine unnatural war
Against thy country? or to boast the meed
Of thy dishonour? that thou larriëst here,
Sharing the bounty of the Conqueror,
While, with the remnant of his countrymen,
Saving the Gods of Aztlan and the name,
Thy brother and thy king goes forth lo seek
His fortune!

Calm and low the youth replied,
Ill dost thou judge of me, Yuhidthiton!
And foully, O my brother, wrong the heart
Thou better shouldst have known! Howbeit, I come
Prepared for grief. These honourable wounds
Were gained when, singly, at Cacrmadoc, I
Opposed the ruffian Hoamen; and even now,
Thus feeble as thou seest me, come I thence,
For this farewell. Brother - Yuldthiton,-
By the true love which thou didst hear my youth,
Which ever, with a love as true, my heart
Hath answered, -by the memory of that hour
When at our mother's funeral pile we stood,
Go not away in wrath, but call to mind
What thou hast ever known me! Side by side
We fought against the Strangers, side by side
We fell; together in the counsel-hall
We counselled peace, together in the field
Of the assembly pledged the word of peace. .
When plots of secret slaughter were devised,
I raised my voice alone, alone I kept
My plighted faith, alone I prophesied
The judgment of just Heaven; for this I bore
Reproach and shame and wrongful banishment,
In the action self-approved, and justified
By this unhappy issue !

As he spake,
Did natural feeling strive within the King,
And thoughts of other days, and brotherly love,
And inward consciousness that had he too
Stood forth, obedient to his belter mind,
Nor weakly yielded to the wily priests,
Wilfully blind, perchance eveu now in peace
The kingdom of his fathers had preserved
Her name and empire.—Malinal, he cried
Thy brother's heart is sore; in better times
I may witli kindlier thoughts remember thee,
And honour thy true virtue. Now fare well !

And called him father. At the joyful sound
Out ran llanquel ; and the astonished man
Beheld bis wife and boy, whom sure he deemed
Whelmed in the floods; but them the British barks,
Returning homeward from their merciful quest,
Found floating on the waters-For a while,
Abandoned by all desperate thoughts he stood:
Soon he collected, and to Madoc turned,
And said, O Prince, this woman and her boy
I leave to thee. As thou hast ever found
In me a fearless unrelenting foe,
Fighting with ceaseless zeal my country's cause,
Respect them !– Nay, Ilanquel! hast thou yet
To learn with what unshakeable resolve
My soul maintains its purposes! I leave three
To a brave foe's protection.-Lay me, Madoc,
Here, in

my
father's
grave.

With that he took
His mantle off, and veiled Ilanquel's face ;-
Woman, thou canst not look upon the Sun,
Who sets to rise no more!—That done, be placed
His javelin-hilt against the ground; the point
lle fitted to his heart; and, holding firm
The shaft, fell forward, still with steady hand
Guiding the death-blow on.

So in the land
Madoc was left sole Lord; and far away
Yuhidthiton led forth the Aztecas,
To spread in other lands Mexitli's name, 74
And rear a mightier empire, and set up
Again their foul idolatry; till Heaven,
Making blind Zeal and Bloody Avarice
Its ministers of vengeance, sent among them
The heroic Spaniard's unrelenting sword.

NOTES.

PART I.

So saying, to his heart he held the youth,
Then turned away. but then cried Tialaia,
Farewell, Yuhidthilon! the Tiger cried;
For I too will not leave my native land, -
Thou wbo wert King of Aztlao! go thy way,
And be it prosperous. Through the gate thou seest
Yon tree that overhangs my father's house;
My father lies beneath it. Call to mind
Sometimes that tree; for at its foot in peace
Shall Tlalala be laid, who will not live
Survivor of his country.

Thus he cried,
And through the gate, regardless of the King,
Turned to his pative door, Yuhidchiton
Followed, and Madoc; but in vain their words
Essayed to move the Tiger's steady heart ;
When from the door a tottering boy came forth
And clung around his knees with joyful cries,

Note 1, page 197, col. 1.
Silent and thoughtful, and apart from all,

Stood Madoc. Long after these lines had been written, I was pleased at finding the same feeling expressed in a very singular specimen of metrical auto-biography:

A Nao, despregando as velas

Ja se aproveita do vento;
E de evidente alegria

Os Portuguezes ja cheios
Sobre o con ves estam todos ;

Na terra se vam revendo
Igrejas, Palacios. Quintas,

De que tem conhecimento,
Daqui, dalli apontando

Vam ledamente co dedo.
Todos fallando demostram

Seus jubilos manifestos ;
Mas o Vieira occapado

Vai de hum notarel silencio.
Seu excessivo alvoroço

Tumultuante, que dentro
No peito sente, lhe causa

De sobresalio os effeitos.
Quanto mais elle chegando

Vai ao suspirado termo,
Mais se Ibe augmenta o gostoso
Susto no doce projecto.

Vieira Lusiiane.

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