XXI. << By Heaven, the Moors prevail! the christians yield! Lo! where the recreant spurs o'er stock and stone! Curses pursue the slave and wrath divine! Rivers ingulph him!»-« Hush!» in shuddering tone, The prelate said; « rash prince, yon vision'd form's thine own.»- XXII. Just then, a torrent cross'd the flyer's course; The dangerous ford the kingly likeness tried; But the deep eddies whelm'd both man and horse, Swept like benighted peasant down the tide; And the proud Moslemah spread far and wide, As numerous as their native locust band; Berber and Ismael's sons the spoils divide, With naked scymitars mete out the land, XXVII. From the dim landscape roll the clouds away- This clad in sackcloth, that in armour bright, XXVIII. Valour was harness'd like a chief of old, Arm'd at all points, and prompt for knightly gest; His sword was temper'd in the Ebro cold, Morena's eagle-plume adorn'd his crest, The spoils of Afric's lion bound his breast. Fierce he stepp'd forward, and flung down his gage, As if of mortal kind to brave the best. Him follow'd his companion, dark and sage, And for their bondsmen base the free-born natives As he, my master, sung, the dangerous Archimage. brand. XXIII. Then rose the grated harem, to inclose The loveliest maidens of the christian line; Then, menials to their misbelieving foes, Castile's nobles held forbidden wine; young Then, too, the holy cross, salvation's sign, By impious hands was from the altar thrown, And the deep aisles of the polluted shrine Echoed, for holy hymn and organ-tone, XXIX. Haughty of heart and brow the warrior came, In look and language proud as proud might be, Vaunting his lordship, lineage, fights, and fame, Yet was that bare-foot monk more proud than he. And as the ivy climbs the tallest tree, So round the loftiest soul his toils he wound, And with his spells subdued the fierce and free, Till ermined Age, and Youth in arms renown'd, The santon's frantic dance, the fakir's gibbering moan. Honouring his scourge and hair-cloth, meekly kiss'd XXIV. How fares Don Roderick ?-E'en as one who spies He curses earth and heaven-himself in chiefDesperate of earthly aid, despairing Heaven's relief! XXV. That scythe-arm'd giant turn'd his fatal glass, And twilight on the landscape closed her wings; Far to Asturian hills the war-sounds pass, And in their stead rebeck or timbrel rings; And to the sound the bell-deck'd dancer springs, Bazaars resound as when their marts are met, In tourney light the Moor his jerrid flings, And on the land, as evening seem'd to set, the ground. XXX. And thus it chanced that Valour, peerless knight, Since first his limbs with mail he did invest, Nor reason'd of the right, nor of the wrong, But at his bidding laid the lance in rest, And wrought fell deeds the troubled world along, For he was fierce as brave, and pitiless as strong. XXXI. Oft his proud galleys sought some new-found world, The imaum's chaunt was heard from mosque or mi- The hermit mark'd the stains, and smiled beneath his So pass'd that pageant. Ere another came, The visionary scene was wrapp'd in smoke, cowl. XXXII. Then did he bless the offering, and bade make Tribute to Heaven of gratitude and praise; Whose sulph'rous wreaths were cross'd by sheets of And at his word the choral hymns awake, flame; With every flash a bolt explosive broke, Till Roderick deem'd the fiends had burst their yoke, tone. And many a hand the silver censer sways. But with the incense breath these censers raise, Mix steams from corpses smouldering in the fire; The of prison'd victims mar the lays, groans And shrieks of agony confound the quire, While, mid the mingled sounds, the darken'd scenes expire. XXXIII. Preluding light, were strains of music heard, As once again revolved that measured sand, Such sounds as when, for sylvan dance prepared, Gay Xeres summons forth her vintage band; When for the light bolero ready stand The Mozo blithe, with gay Muchacha met, (9) He conscious of his broider'd cap and band, She of her netted locks and light corsette, Each tiptoe perch'd to spring, and shake the castanet. And well such strains the opening scene became; And at a lady's feet, like lion tame, Lay stretch'd, full loth the weight of arms to brook; And soften'd Bigotry, upon his book, Patter'd a task of little good or ill: But the blithe peasant plied his pruning-hook, XXXV. Gray royalty, grown impotent of toil, Let the grave sceptre slip his lazy hold, And careless saw his rule become the spoil Of a loose female and her minion bold. But peace was on the cottage and the fold, From court intrigue, from bickering faction far; Beneath the chesnut-tree Love's tale was told, And to the tinkling of the light guitar, ΧΧΧΙΧ. From a rude isle his ruder lineage came: Hath not a meaner or more sordid birth. And for the soul that bade him waste the earth— The sable land-flood from some swamp obscure, That poisons the glad husband-field with dearth, And by destruction bids its fame endure, Hath not a source more sullen, stagnant, and impure. XL. Before that leader strode a shadowy form: Her limbs like mist, her torch like meteor show'd, With which she beckon'd him through fight and storin, And all he crush'd that cross'd his desperate road, Nor thought, nor fear'd, nor look'd on what he trode; Realms could not glut his pride, blood could not slake, So oft as e'er she shook her torch abroad- No longer now she spurn'd at mean revenge, Or staid her hand for conquer'd foeman's moan, Nor joy'd she to bestow the spoils she won, As when the banded powers of Greece were task'd To war beneath the Youth of Macedon: No seemly veil her modern minion ask'd, Sweet stoop'd the western sun, sweet rose the evening He saw her hideous face, and loved the fiend unmask'd. star. XXXVI. As that sea-cloud, in size like human hand When first from Carmel by the Tishbite seen, Came slowly over-shadowing Israel's land, Awhile, perchance, bedeck'd with colours sheen, While yet the sun-beams on its skirts had been, Limning with purple and with gold its shroud, Till darker folds obscured the blue serene, And blotted heaven with one broad sable cloudThen sheeted rain burst down, and whirlwinds howl'd aloud: XXXVII. E'en so upon that peaceful scene was pour'd, Like gathering clouds, full many a foreign band, And he, their leader, wore in sheath his sword, And offer'd peaceful front and open hand; Veiling the perjured treachery he plann'd, By friendship's zeal and honour's specious guise, Until he won the passes of the land; XLII. That prelate mark'd his march-On banners blazed On cagle-standards and on arms he gazed; << And hopest thou then,» he said, «<thy power shall stand? O thou hast builded on the shifting sand, The ruthless leader beckon'd from his train, A wan fraternal shade, and bade him kneel, Not that he loved him-No!-in no man's weal, Then, burst were honour's oath, and friendship's Yet round that throne he bade his warriors wheel, ties! That the poor puppet might perform his part, He clutch'd his vulture-grasp, and call'd fair Spain his And be a sceptred slave, at his stern beck to start. prize. XXXVIII. An iron crown his anxious forehead bore ; XLIV. XLV. That mimic monarch now cast anxious eye And from his brow the diadem unbound. From Tarik's walls to Bilboa's mountains blown, These martial satellites hard labour found, To guard awhile his substituted throneLight recking of his cause, but battling for their own. XLVI. From Alpuhara's peak that bugle rung, And it was echo'd from Corunna's wall; Stately Seville responsive war-shout flung, Grenada caught it in her Moorish hall; Galicia bade her children fight or fall, Wild Biscay shook his mountain-coronet, Valencia roused her at the battle-call, And foremost still where Valour's sons are met, Fast started to his gun each fiery Miquelet. LI. Then Zaragoza-blighted be the tongue That names thy name without the honour due! For never hath the harp of minstrel rung, Of faith so felly proved, so firmly true! Mine, sap, and bomb, thy shatter'd ruins knew, Each art of war's extremity had room, Twice from thy half-sack'd streets the foe withdrew, And when at length stern Fate decreed thy doom, They won not Zaragoza, but her children's bloody tomb. (12) LII. Yet raise thy head, sad city! Though in chains, Enthrall'd thou canst not be! Arise and claim Reverence from every heart where Freedom reigns, For what thou worshippest !-thy sainted dame, She of the column, honour'd be her name, By all, whate'er their creed, who honour love! And like the sacred reliques of the flame, That gave some martyr to the bless'd above, To every loyal heart may thy sad embers prove! LIII. Nor thine alone such wreck. Gerona fair! Faithful to death thy heroes should be sung, Manning the towers while o'er their heads the air Swart as the smoke from raging furnace hung; Now thicker dark'ning where the mine was sprung, Now briefly lighten'd by the cannon's flare, Now arch'd with fire-sparks as the bomb was flung, And redd'ning now with conflagration's glare, While by the fatal light the foes for storm prepare. LVII. A various host they came-whose ranks display Each mode in which the warrior meets the fight, The deep battalion locks its firm array, And meditates his aim the marksman light; Far glance the beams of sabres flashing bright, Where mounted squadrons shake the echoing mead, Lacks not artillery breathing flame and night, Nor the fleet ordnance whirl'd by rapid steed, A various host-from kindred realms they came, And with their deeds of valour deck her crown. And the blunt speech that bursts without a pause, And freeborn thoughts, which league the soldier with the laws. LIX. And Oh! loved warriors of the minstrel's land! Yonder your bonnets nod, your tartans wave! The rugged form may mark the mountain band, And harsher features, and a mien more grave; But ne'er in battle-field throbb'd heart so brave As that which beats beneath the Scottish plaid, And when the pibroch bids the battle rave,. And level for the charge your arms are laid, Where lives the desperate foe that for such onset staid! LX. Hark! from yon stately ranks what laughter rings, And he, yon chieftain-strike the proudest tone Of thy bold harp, green Isle !—the hero is thine own. LXI. Now on the scene Vimeira should be shown, And see Busaco's crest with lightning blaze:- Hath Fiction's stage for Truth's long triumphs room? And dare her flowers mingle with the bays, LXIII. O vain, though anxious, is the glance I cast, The deeds recorded, and the laurels won, Yet grant for faith, for valour, and for Spain, One note of pride and fire, a patriot's parting strain! CONCLUSION. I. WHO shall command Estrella's mountain tide Back to the source, when tempest-chafed to hie! Who, when Gascogne's vex'd gulph is raging wide, Shall hush it as a nurse her infant's cry! His magic power let such vain boaster try, And when the torrent shall his voice obey, And Biscay's whirlwinds list his lullaby, Let him stand forth and bar mine eagles' way, And they shall heed his voice, and at his bidding stay. II. << Else ne'er to stoop, till high on Lisbon's towers To marshal, duke, and peer, Gaul's leader spoke. And smiled like Eden in her summer dress;Behind their wasteful march a reeking wilderness. (14) III. And shall the boastful chief maintain his word, An adamantine barrier to his force! Around the warrior's crest, and o'er the warrior's Bears off its broken waves, and seeks a devious course, tomb? LXII. Or may I give adventurous Fancy scope, Of Spain's invaders from her confines hurl'd, And Fame, with clarion blast and wings unfurl'd, To freedom and revenge awakes an injured world! IV. Yet not because Alcoba's mountain hawk, Hath on his best and bravest made her food, In numbers confident, yon chief shall baulk His lord's imperial thirst for spoil and blood; For full in view the promised conquest stood, And Lisbon's matrons, from their walls, might sum The myriads that had half the world subdued, And hear the distant thunders of the drum, That bids the bands of France to storm and havoc come. Τ. Four moons have heard these thunders idly roll'd, At length they move-but not to battle-fray, Where cowardice and cruelty unite, To damn with double shame their ignominious flight! VI. O triumph for the Fiends of Lust and Wrath! Childhood and age given o'er to sword and flame, Women to infamy;-no crime forgot, By which inventive demons might proclaim Immortal hate to man, and scorn of God's great name! VII. The rudest sentinel, in Britain born, With horror paused to view the havoc done, Gave his poor crust to feed some wretch forlorn, (15) Riches nor poverty the task shall shun, Nor prince nor peer, the wealthy nor the gay, Nor the poor peasant's mite, nor bard's more worthless lay. VIII. But thou-unfoughten wilt thou yield to Fate, Behold, where, named by some prophetic seer, Yet, ere thou turn'st, collect each distant aid; Of war's fell stratagems exhaust the whole; ΧΙ. Go, baffled boaster! teach thy haughty mood Deceived his hopes, and frustrated thine own; And if he chafe, be his own fortune tried- XII. But ye, the heroes of that well-fought day, Or bind on every brow the laurels won? Yet fain my harp would wake its boldest tone, O'er the wide sea to hail CADOGAN brave; And he, perchance, the minstrel note might own, Mindful of meeting brief that Fortune gave 'Mid far western isles that hear the Atlantic rave. yon XIII. Yes! hard the task, when Britons wield the sword, And red Barrosa shouts for dauntless GREME! XIV. O who shall grudge him Albuera's bays, Who brought a race regenerate to the field, And gave new edge to Lusitania's sword, XV. Not on that bloody field of battle won, He gaged but life on that illustrious day; He braved the shafts of censure and of shame, And weary out his arm-thou canst not quell his soul. And, dearer far than life, he pledged a soldier's fame. X. O vainly gleams with steel Agueda's shore, With frantic charge and tenfold odds, in vain! (17) And what avails thee that, for CAMERON slain, Wild from his plaided ranks the yell was given-(18) Vengeance and grief gave mountain-rage the rein, And, at the bloody spear-point headlong driven, Thy despot's giant guards fled like the rack of heaven. 'The literal translation of Fuentes d'Honoro. XVI. Nor be his praise o'erpast who strove to hide |