LII. Portend the deeds to come :-but he whose nod Has tumbled feebler despots from their sway Soon will his legions sweep through these their way; LIII. And must they fall? the young, the proud, the brave, The rise of rapine and the fall of Spain? The Veteran's skill, Youth's fire, and Manhood's heart of steel? LIV. Is it for this the Spanish maid, aroused, Hangs on the willow her unstrung guitar, And, all unsex'd, the Anlace hath espoused, Sung the loud song, and dared the deed of war? And she, whom once the semblance of a scar Appall'd, an owlet's larum chill'd with dread, Now views the column-scattering bay'net jar, The falchion flash, and o'er the yet warm dead Stalks with Minerva's step where Mars might quake to tread. LV. Ye who shall marvel when you hear her tale, Thin the closed ranks, and lead in Glory's fearful chase. LVI. Her lover sinks—she sheds no ill-timed tear; What maid retrieve when man's flush'd hope is lost? Foil'd by a woman's hand, before a batter'd wall? (11) LVII. Yet are Spain's maids no race of Amazons, Remoter females, famed for sickening prate; Her mind is nobler sure, her charms perchance as great. LVIII. The seal Love's dimpling finger hath impress'd Denotes how soft that chin which bears his touch: (12) Her glance how wildly beautiful! how much Hath Phoebus woo'd in vain to spoil her cheek, Which glows yet smoother from his amorous clutch! Who round the North for paler dames would seek? How poor their forms appear! how languid, wan, and weak! LIX. Match me, ye climes! which poets love to laud; Match me those Houries, whom ye scarce allow LX. Oh, thou Parnassus! (13) whom I now survey, Not in the phrensy of a dreamer's eye, Not in the fabled landscape of a lay, But soaring snow-clad through thy native sky, What marvel if I thus essay to sing? The humblest of thy pilgrims passing by Would gladly woo thine Echoes with his string, Though from thy heights no more one Muse will wave her wing. LXI. Oft have I dream'd of Thee! whose glorious name I tremble, and can only bend the knee; In silent joy to think at last I look on Thee! |