Hath given to Tlaloc, to enjoy with him,
For aye, the cool delights of Tlalocan,..
Young Spirits of the happy; who have left
Your Heaven to-day, unseen assistants here,..
Behold your comrade! see the chosen child,
Who through the lonely cave of death must pass,
Like you, to join you in eternal joy.
Now from the rush-strewn temple they depart.
They place their smiling victim in a car,
Upon whose sides of pearly shell there play'd,
Shading and shifting still, the rainbow light.
On virgin shoulders is he borne aloft,
With dance before, and song and music round;
And thus they seek, in festival array,
The water-side. There lies the sacred bark,
All gay with gold, and garlanded with flowers:
The virgins with the joyous boy embark;
Ten boatmen urge them on; the Priests behind
Follow, and all the long solemnity.
The lake is overspread with boats; the sun Shines on the gilded prows, the feathery crowns, The sparkling waves. Green islets float along, Where high-born damsels, under jasmin bowers, Raise the sweet voice, to which the echoing oars, In modulated motion, rise and fall.
The moving multitude along the shore
Flows like a stream; bright shines the unclouded sky;
Heaven, earth, and waters wear one face of joy.
Young Hoel with delight beholds the pomp;
His heart throbs joyfully; and if he thinks
Upon his mother now, 't is but to think
How beautiful a tale for her glad ear
He hath when he returns. Meantime the maids Weave garlands for his head, and raise the song.
Oh! happy thou, whom early from the world The Gods require! not by the wasting worm Of sorrow canker'd, nor condemn'd to feel The pang of sickness, nor the wound of war, Nor the long miseries of protracted age; But thus in childhood chosen of the God, To share his joys. Soon shall thy rescued soul, Child of the Stranger! in his blissful world, Mix with the blessed spirits; for not thine, Amid the central darkness of the earth, To endure the eternal void; . . not thine to live, Dead to all objects of eye, ear, or sense, In the long horrors of one endless night, With endless being curst. Of Tlalocan have blossom'd with new sweets; For thee have its immortal trees matured The fruits of Heaven; thy comrades even now Wait thee, impatient, in their fields of bliss; The God will welcome thee, his chosen child, And Aiauh love thee with a mother's love. Child of the Stranger, dreary is thy way! Darkness and Famine through the cave of Death Must guide thee. Happy thou, when on that night The morning of the eternal day shall dawn.
So as they sung young Hoel's song of death, With rapid strength the boatmen plied their oars, And through the water swift they glided on,
And now to shore they drew. The stately bank
Rose with the majesty of woods o'erhung,
And rocks, or peering through the forest shade,
Or rising from the lake, and with their bulk
Glassing its dark deep waters. Half way up,
A cavern pierced the rock; no human foot
Had trod its depths, nor ever sunbeam reach'd
Its long recesses and mysterious gloom;
To Tlaloc it was hallowed; and the stone,
Which closed its entrance, never was removed,
Save when the yearly festival return'd,
And in its womb a child was sepulchred,
The living victim. Up the winding path,
That to the entrance of the cavern led,
With many a painful step the train ascend:
But many a time, upon that long ascent,
Young Hoel would have paused, with weariness
Exhausted now. They urge him on,.. poor child!
They urge him on!.. Where is Cadwallon's aid?
Where is the sword of Ririd? where the arm
Of Madoc now?..Oh! better had he lived,
Unknowing and unknown, on Arvon's plain,
And trod upon his noble father's grave,
With peasant feet, unconscious!.. They have reach'd
The cavern now, and from its mouth the Priests
Roll the huge portal. Thitherward they force
The son of Llaian. A cold air comes out ;..
It chills him, and his feet recoil; .. in vain
His feet recoil; .. in vain he turns to fly,
Affrighted at the sudden gloom that spreads
Around;.. the den is closed, and he is left
In solitude and darkness,.. left to die!
THAT morn from Aztlan Coatel had gone,
In search of flowers, amid the woods and crags,
To deck the shrine of Coatlantona;
Such flowers as in the solitary wilds
Hiding their modest beauty, made their worth
More valued for its rareness. 'T was to her
A grateful task; not only for she fled
Those cruel rites, to which nor reverent use,
Nor frequent custom could familiarize
Her gentle heart, and teach it to put off
All womanly feeling;.. but that from all eyes
Escaped, and all obtrusive fellowship,
She in that solitude might send her soul
To where Lincoya with the Strangers dwelt.
She from the summit of the woodland heights
Gazed on the lake below. The sound of song
And instrument, in soften'd harmony,
Had reach'd her where she stray'd; and she beheld
The pomp, and listen'd to the floating sounds,
A moment, with delight: but then a fear
Came on her, for she knew with what design
The Tyger and Ocellopan had sought
The dwellings of the Cymry... Now the boats
Drew nearer, and she knew the Stranger's child.
She watch'd them land below; she saw them wind
The ascent: .. and now from that abhorred cave
The stone is roll'd away,.. and now the child
From light and life is cavern'd. Coatel
Thought of his mother then, of all the ills
Her fear would augur, and how worse than all
Which even a mother's maddening fear could feign,
His actual fate. She thought of this, and bow'd
Her face upon her knees, and closed her eyes,
Shuddering. Suddenly in the brake beside,
A rustling startled her, and from the shrubs,
A Vulture rose.
She moved toward the spot,
Led by an idle impulse, as it seem'd,
To see from whence the carrion bird had fled.
The bushes overhung a narrow chasm
Which pierced the hill: upon its mossy sides
Shade-loving herbs and flowers luxuriant grew,
And jutting crags made easy the descent.
A little way descending, Coatel
Stoopt for the flowers, and heard, or thought she heard,
A feeble sound below. She raised her head,
And anxiously she listen'd for the sound,
Not without fear... Feebly again, and like
A distant cry, it came; and then she thought,
Perhaps it was the voice of that poor child,
By the slow pain of hunger doom'd to die.
She shudder'd at the thought, and breathed a groan
Of unavailing pity;.. but the sound
Came nearer, and her trembling heart conceived
A dangerous hope. The Vulture from that chasm
Had fled, perchance accustomed in the cave
To seek his banquet, and by living feet
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