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, orthought 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
Alarm'd:..there was an entrance then below;
And were it possible that she could save
The Stranger's child, . . Oh what a joy it were
To tell Lincoya that!
Which made her heart with terror and delight
Throb audibly. From crag to crag she past
Descending, and beheld a narrow cave
Enter the hill. A little way the light
Fell, . . but its feeble glimmering she herself
Obstructed half, as stooping in she went.
The arch grew loftier, and the increasing gloom
Fill'd her with more affright; and now she paused;
For at a sudden and abrupt descent
She stood, and fear'd its unseen depth; her heart
Fail'd, and she back had hasten'd; but the cry
Reach'd her again, the near and certain cry
Of that most pitiable innocent.
Again adown the dark descent she look'd,
Straining her eyes; by this the strengthen'd sight
Had grown adapted to the gloom around,
And her dilated pupils now received
Dim sense of objects near. Something below,
White in the darkness lay, it mark'd the depth,
Still Coatel stood dubious; but she heard
The wailing of the child, and his loud sobs;
Then, clinging to the rock with fearful hands,
Her feet explored below, and twice she felt
Firm footing, ere her fearful hold relax'd.
The sound she made, along the hollow rock
Ran echoing. Hoel heard it, and he came
Groping along the side. A dim, dim light
Broke on the darkness of his sepulchre ;
A human form drew near him; . . he sprang on,
Screaming with joy, and clung to Coatel,
And cried, O take me from this dismal place!
She answer'd not; she understood him not;
But clasp'd the little victim to her breast,
And shed delightful tears.
Of darkness and of horror, Coatel
Durst not convey the child, though in her heart
There was a female tenderness which yearn'd,
As with maternal love, to cherish him.
She hush'd his clamours, fearful lest the sound
Might reach some other ear; she kiss'd away
The tears that stream'd adown his little cheeks;
She gave him food which in the morn she brought,
For her own wants, from Aztlan. Some few words
Of Britain's ancient language she had learnt
From her Lincoya, in those happy days
Of peace, when Aztlan was the Stranger's friend:
Aptly she learnt, what willingly he taught,
Terms of endearment, and the parting words
Which promised quick return. She to the child
These precious words address'd; and if it chanced
Imperfect knowledge, or some difficult sound
Check'd her heart's utterance, then the gentle tone,
The fond caress, intelligibly spake
And would have climb'd the ascent, the affrighted boy Fast held her, and his tears interpreted
The prayer to leave him not. Again she kiss'd
His tears away; again of soon return
Assured and soothed him; till reluctantly
And weeping, but in silence, he unloosed
grasp; and up the difficult ascent
His
Coatel climb'd, and to the light of day
Returning, with her flowers she hastened home.
WHO comes to Aztlan, bounding like a deer
Along the plain? . . The herald of success;
For lo! his locks are braided, and his loins
Cinctured with white; and see, he lifts the shield,
And brandishes the sword. The populace
Flock round, impatient for the tale of joy,
And follow to the palace in his path.
Joy! joy! the Tyger hath achieved his quest !
They bring a captive home! . . Triumphantly
Coanocotzin and his Chiefs go forth
To greet the youth triumphant, and receive
The victim whom the gracious gods have given,
Sure omen and first fruits of victory.
A woman leads the train, young, beautiful, .
More beautiful for that translucent joy
Flushing her cheek, and sparkling in her eye; ..
Her hair is twined with festal flowers, her robe
With flowing wreaths adorn'd; she holds a child,
He, too, bedeck'd and garlanded with flowers,
And, lifting him, with agile force of arm,
In graceful action, to harmonious step
Accordant, leads the dance. It is the wife
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