Wholly been quench'd; still in the heart of man
A feeling and an instinct it exists,
His very nature's stamp and privilege,
Yea, of his life the life. I tell ye not,
O Aztecas! of things unknown before;
I do but waken up a living sense
That sleeps within ye!
Who call for blood?
Do ye love the Gods
Doth the poor sacrifice
Go with a willing step, to lay his life
Upon their altars? . . Good must come of good,
Evil of evil; if the fruit be death,
The poison springeth from the sap and root,
And the whole tree is deadly; if the rites
Be evil, they who claim them are not good,
Not to be worshipp'd then; for to obey
The evil will is evil. Aztecas !
From the For-Ever, the Beloved One,
The Universal Only God I speak,
Your God and mine, our Father and our Judge.
Hear ye his law, . . hear ye the perfect law
Of love, "Do ye to others, as ye would
That they should do to you!" He bids us meet
To praise his name, in thankfulness and joy;
He bids us, in our sorrow, pray to him,
The Comforter. Love him, for he is good!
Fear him, for he is just! Obey his will,
For who can bear his anger!
They stood with open mouth, and motionless sight,
Watching his countenance, as though the voice
Were of a God; for sure it seem'd that less
Than inspiration could not have infused
That eloquent passion in a blind man's face.
And when he ceased, all eyes at once were turn'd
Upon the Pabas, waiting their reply,
If that to that acknowledged argument
Reply could be devised. But they themselves,
Stricken by the truth, were silent; and they look'd
Toward their chief and mouth-piece, the High Priest
Tezozomoc ; he too was pale and mute,
And when he gather'd up his strength to speak,
Speech fail'd him, his lip falter'd, and his eve
Fell utterly abash'd, and put to shame.
But in the Chiefs, and in the multitude,
And in the King of Aztlan, better thoughts
Were working; for the Spirit of the Lord
That day was moving in the heart of man.
Coanocotzin rose: Pabas, and Chiefs,
And men of Aztlan, ye have heard a talk
Of peace and love, and there is no reply.
Are ye content with what the Wise Man saith?
And will ye worship God in that good way
Which God himself ordains?
If it be so,
Together here will we in happy hour
This thing is new, and in the land till now
Unheard: . . what marvel, therefore, if we find
No ready answer? Let our Lord the King
Do that which seemeth best.
Chief of the Chiefs of Aztlan, next arose.
Of all her numerous sons, could Aztlan boast
No mightier arm in battle, nor whose voice
To more attentive silence hush'd the hall
Of council. When the Wise Man spake, quoth he,
I ask'd of mine own heart if it were so,
And, as he said, the living instinct there
Answer'd, and own'd the truth. In happy hour,
O King of Aztlan, did the Ocean Lord
Through the great waters hither wend his
For sure he is the friend of God and man.
With that an uproar of assent arose
From the whole people, a tumultuous shout
Of universal joy and glad acclaim.
But when Coanocotzin raised his hand,
That he might speak, the clamour and the buz
Ceased, and the multitude, in tiptoe hope,
Attent and still, await the final voice.
Then said the Sovereign, Hear, O Aztecas,
Your own united will! From this day forth
No life upon the altar shall be shed,
No blood shall flow in sacrifice; the rites
Shall all be pure, such as the blind Old Man,
Whom God hath taught, will teach This ye have will'd; And therefore it shall be !
The King hath said! Like thunder the collected voice replied:
Lord of the Ocean, then
Pursued the King of Aztlan, we will now
Lay the war-weapon in the grave, and join
In right-hand friendship. By our custom, blood
Should sanctify and bind the solemn act;
But by what oath and ceremony thou
Shalt proffer, by the same will Aztlan swear.
Nor oath, nor ceremony, I replied,
To his own good word
The good and honourable man will act,
Oaths will not curb the wicked. Here we stand
In the broad day-light; the For-Ever one,
The Every-Where beholds us. In his sight
We join our hands in peace: if e'er again
Should these right hands be raised in enmity,
Upon the offender will his judgement fall.
The grave was dug; Coanocotzin laid His weapon in the earth; Erillyab's son, Young Amalahta, for the Hoamen, laid
His hatchet there; and there I laid the sword.
Here let me end. What follow'd was the work Of peace, no theme for story; how we fix'd Our sojourn in the hills, and sow'd our fields, And, day by day, saw all things prospering. Thence have I come, Goervyl, to announce The tidings of my happy enterprise ; There I return, to take thee to our home. I love my native land; with as true love As ever yet did warm a British heart, Love I the green fields of the beautiful Isle, My father's heritage! But far away, Where nature's booner hand has blest the earth, My lot hath been assign'd; beyond the seas Madoc hath found his home; beyond the seas A country for his children hath he chosen, A land wherein their portion may be peace.
BUT while Aberfraw echoed to the sounds
Of merriment and music, Madoc's heart
Mourn'd for his brethren. Therefore, when no ear
Was nigh, he sought the King, and said to him,
To-morrow, for Mathraval I set forth;
Longer I must not linger here, to pass
The easy hours in feast and revelry,
Forgetful of my people far away.
I go to tell the tidings of success,
And seek new comrades. What if it should chance
That, for this enterprise, our brethren,
Foregoing all their hopes and fortunes here,
Would join my banner?.. Let me send abroad
Their summons, O my brother! so secure,
You may forgive the past, and once again
Will peace and concord bless our father's house.
Hereafter will be time enow for this,
The King replied; thy easy nature sees not,
How, if the traitors for thy banner send
Their bidding round, in open war against me
Their own would soon be spread. I charge thee, Madoc,
Neither to see nor aid these fugitives,
The shame of Owen's blood.
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