Of Leon where it bids you to your feast!

Terror and flight shall with that flag go forth,
And Havoc and the Dogs of War and Death.
Thou Covadonga with the tainted stream
Of Deva, and this now rejoicing vale,
Soon its primitial triumphs wilt behold!
Nor shall the glories of the noon be less
Than such miraculous promise of the dawn:
Witness Clavijo, where the dreadful cry
Of Santiago, then first heard, o'erpower'd
The Akbar, and that holier name blasphemed
By misbelieving lips! Simancas, thou
Be witness! And do ye your record bear,
Tolosan mountains, where the Almohade
Beheld his myriads scatter'd and destroy'd,
Like locusts swept before the stormy North!
Thou too, Salado, on that later day

When Africa received her final foil,

And thy swoln stream incarnadined, roll'd back The invaders to the deep, there shall they toss Till on their native Mauritanian shore

The waves shall cast their bones to whiten there.

XIX.

RODERICK AND RUSILLA.

WHEN all had been perform'd, the royal Goth
Look'd up towards the chamber in the tower,
Where gazing on the multitude below,
Alone Rusilla stood. He met her eye,
For it was singling him amid the crowd;
Obeying then the hand which beckon'd him,
He went with heart prepared, nor shrinking now,
But arm'd with self-approving thoughts that hour.
Entering in tremulous haste, he closed the door,
And turn'd to clasp her knees; but lo, she spread
Her arms, and catching him in close embrace,
Fell on his neck, and cried, My Son, my Son!...
Ere long, controlling that first agony
With effort of strong will, backward she bent,
And gazing on his head now shorn and grey,
And on his furrow'd countenance, exclaim'd,
Still, still, my Roderick! the same noble mind!
The same heroic heart! Still, still, my Son; .
Changed,.. yet not wholly fallen,.. not wholly lost,
He cried, not wholly in the sight of Heaven
Unworthy, O my Mother, nor in thine!

She lock'd her arms again around his neck,

Saying, Lord, let me now depart in peace!
And bow'd her head again, and silently
Gave way to tears.

When that first force was spent, And passion in exhaustment found relief, . . I knew thee, said Rusilla, when the dog Rose from my feet, and lick'd his master's hand. All flash'd upon me then; the instinctive sense That goes unerringly where reason fails, . . The voice, the eye,..a mother's thoughts are quick,.. Miraculous as it seem'd,.. Siverian's tale, . . Florinda's, . . every action, . . every word, . . Each strengthening each, and all confirming all, Reveal'd thee, O my Son! but I restrain'd My heart, and yielded to thy holier will The thoughts which rose to tempt a soul not yet Wean'd wholly from the world.

What thoughts? replied Roderick. That I might see thee yet again Such as thou wert, she answer'd; not alone To Heaven and me restored, but to thyself, . . Thy Crown,.. thy Country,.. all within thy reach; Heaven so disposing all things, that the means Which wrought the ill, might work the remedy. Methought I saw thee once again the hope, . The strength,.. the pride of Spain! The miracle Which I beheld made all things possible. I know the inconstant people, how their mind, With every breath of good or ill report, Fluctuates, like summer corn before the breeze; Quick in their hatred, quicker in their love, Generous and hasty, soon would they redress

All wrongs of former obloquy. . . I thought

Of happiness restored, the broken heart

Heal'd, . . and Count Julian, for his daughter's sake,
Turning in thy behalf against the Moors

His powerful sword: . . all possibilities
That could be found or fancied, built a dream
Before me; such as easiest might illude
A lofty spirit train'd in palaces,

And not alone amid the flatteries

Of youth with thoughts of high ambition fed
When all is sunshine, but through years of woe,
When sorrow sanctified their use, upheld
By honourable pride and earthly hopes.
I thought I yet might nurse upon my knee
Some young Theodofred, and see in him
Thy Father's image and thine own renew'd,
And love to think the little hand which there
Play'd with the bauble, should in after days
Wield the transmitted sceptre ; . . that through him
The ancient seed should be perpetuate, . .
That precious seed revered so long, desired
So dearly, and so wonderously preserved.

Nay, he replied, Heaven hath not with its bolts
Scathed the proud summit of the tree, and left
The trunk unflaw'd; ne'er shall it clothe its boughs
Again, nor push again its scyons forth,

Head, root, and branch, all mortified alike! ..
Long ere these locks were shorn had I cut off
The thoughts of royalty! Time might renew
Their growth, as for Manoah's captive son,
And I too on the miscreant race, like him,

Might prove my strength regenerate; but the hour, When in its second best nativity,

My soul was born again through grace, this heart Died to the world. Dreams such as thine pass now Like evening clouds before me; if I think

How beautiful they seem, 't is but to feel

How soon they fade, how fast the night shuts in.
But in that World to which my hopes look on,
Time enters not, nor Mutability;

Beauty and goodness are unfading there;
Whatever there is given us to enjoy,

That we enjoy for ever, still the same. ..

Much might Count Julian's sword atchieve for Spain
And me, but more will his dear daughter's soul
Effect in Heaven; and soon will she be there

An Angel at the throne of Grace, to plead
In his behalf and mine.

I knew thy heart,

She answer'd, and subdued the vain desire.

It was the World's last effort. Thou hast chosen The better part. Yes, Roderick, even on earth There is a praise above the monarch's fame,

A higher, holier, more enduring praise,

And this will yet be thine!

O tempt me not,

Mother! he cried; nor let ambition take

That specious form to cheat us! What but this,
Fallen as I am, have I to offer Heaven?

The ancestral sceptre, public fame, content
Of private life, the general good report,
Power, reputation, happiness,.. whate'er
The heart of man desires to constitute