BERNARDO DEL CARPIO.-FELICIA HEMANS.

King Alphonso of Asturias had imprisoned the Count Saldana almost from the time of Bernardo's birth. The latter at last took up arms in despair. As a compromise the King offered Bernardo possession of his father's person, in exchange for his castle of Carpio with all his captives. The cruelty of this offer is related in the ballad.

The warrior bowed his crested head, and tamed his heart of fire,

And sued the haughty king to free his long-imprisoned sire; "I bring thee here my fortress-keys, I bring my captive train,

I pledge thee faith, my liege, my lord!-oh! break my father's chain!"

"Rise, rise! even now thy father comes, a ransomed man this day;

Mount thy good horse; and thou and I will meet him on his way."

Then lightly rose that loyal son, and bounded on his steed. And urged, as if with lance in rest, the charger's foamy speed. And lo! from far, as on they pressed, there came a glittering band,

With one that midst them stately rode, as leader in the land:

"Now haste, Bernardo, haste! for there, in very truth, is he, The father whom thy faithful heart hath yearned so long to

see."

His dark eye flashed, his proud breast heaved, his cheek's hue came and went;

He reached that gray-haired chieftain's side, and there, dismounting, bent;

A lowly knee to earth he bent, his father's hand he tookWhat was there in its touch that all his fiery spirit shook? That hand was cold,—a frozen thing,-it dropped from his like lead!

He looked up to the face above,-the face was of the dead! A plume waved o'er the noble brow,―the brow was fixed and white.

He met, at last, his father's eyes, but in them was no sight!

Up from the ground he sprang and gazed, but who could paint that gaze?

They hushed their very hearts that saw its horror and

amaze.

They might have chained him, as before that stony form he stood,

For the power was stricken from his arm, and from his lip the blood.

FATHER!" at length he murmured low, and wept like child.

hood then;

Talk not of grief till thou hast seen the tears of warlike men! He thought on all his glorious hopes, and all his young

renown;

He flung the falchion from his side, and in the dust sat down. Then covering with his steel-gloved hands his darkly mourn. ful brow:

"No more, there is no more," he said, "to lift the sword for now;

My king is false, my hope betrayed, my father—oh, the worth, The glory, and the loveliness, are passed away from earth! I thought to stand where banners waved, my sire, beside thee, yet!

I would that there our kindred blood on Spain's free soil had met!

Thou wouldst have known my spirit then;-for thee my fields were won;

And thou hast perished in thy chains, as though thou hadst no son!"

Then, starting from the ground once more, he seized the monarch's rein,

Amidst the pale and wildered looks of all the courtier train; And, with a fierce, o'ermastering grasp, the rearing war-horse

led,

And sternly set them face to face, the king before the dead: Came I not forth, upon thy pledge, my father's hand to

kiss?

Be still, and gaze thou on, false king! and tell me what is this?

The voice, the glance, the heart I sought-give answer, where are they?

If thou wouldst clear thy perjured soul, send life through this cold clay!

Into these glassy eyes put light; be still! keep down thine

ire;

Bid these white lips a blessing speak, this earth is not my

sire.

Give me back him for whom I strove, for whom my blood

was shed!

Thou canst not?-and a king!-his dust be mountains on thy head."

He loosed the steed-his slack hand fell; upon the silent

face

He cast one long, deep, troubled look, then turned from

that sad place.

His hope was crushed, his after fate untold in martial

strain;

His banner led the spears no more, amidst the hills of Spain.

BERNARDO AND KING ALPHONSO.-J. G. LOCKHART.

With some good ten of his chosen men,

Bernardo hath appeared,

Before them all in the palace hall,

The lying king to beard;

With cap in hand and eye on ground,
He came in reverend guise,

But ever and anon he frowned,
And flame broke from his eyes.

"A curse upon thee," cries the king,
"Who com'st unbid to me!

But what from traitor's blood should spring
Save traitor, like to thee?

His sire, lords, had a traitor's heart

Perchance our champion brave

May think it were a pious part
To share Don Sancho's grave."

"Whoever told this tale, the king
Hath rashness to repeat,"
Cries Bernard, "here my gage I fling
Before the liar's feet!

No treason was in Sancho's blood,

No stain in mine doth lie:

Below the throne what knight will own

The coward calumny?

"The blood that I like water shed,

When Roland did advance,

By secret traitors hired and led,

To make us slaves of France.

The life of king Alphonso

I saved at Roncesval

Your words, lord king, are recompense
Abundant for it all.

"Your horse was down, your hope was flown;
I saw the falchion shine

That soon had drunk your royal blood

Had I not ventured mine;

But memory soon of service done

Deserteth the ingrate;

You've thanked the son for life and crown

By the father's bloody fate.

"Ye swore upon your kingly faith
To set Don Sancho free;

But, curse upon your paltering breath!
The light he ne'er did see;

He died in dungeon cold and dim,
By Alphonso's base decree;

And visage blind and stiffened limb,

Were all they gave to me.

"The king that swerveth from his word,
Hath stained his purple black;

No Spanish lord will draw the sword
Behind a liar's back;

But noble vengeance shall be mine,

An open hate I'll show;

The king hath injured Carpio's line,

And Bernard is his foe!"

"Seize, seize him!" loud the king doth scream: "There are a thousand here!

Let his foul blood this instant stream

Seize, seize the traitor!" But not one
To move a finger dareth;
Bernardo standeth by the throne,

And calm his sword he bareth.

He drew the falchion from the sheath,
And held it up on high;

And all the hall was still as death.

Cries Bernard, "Here am I!

And here's the sword that owns no lord,

Excepting Heaven and me;

Fain would I know who dares its point,

King, Condé, or Grandee."

Then to his mouth the horn he drew,

It hung below his cloak,

His ten true men the signal knew,

And through the ring they broke;

With helm on head, and blade in hand,
The knights the circle brake,
And back the lordlings 'gan to stand,
And the false king to quake.

"Ha! Bernard," quoth Alphonso,

"What means this warlike guise?

Ye know full well I jested,

Ye know your worth I prize!"
But Bernard turned upon his heel,
And, smiling, passed away.
Long rued Alphonso and his realm
The jesting of that day!

SHALL WE GIVE UP THE UNION?-D. S. DICKINSON, Extract from a speech delivered at New York, May 20, 1861.

Shall we then surrender to turbulence, and faction, and rebellion, and give up the Union with all its elements of good, all its holy memories, all its hallowed associations, all its blood-bought history?

No! let the eagle change his plume,
The leaf its hue, the flower its bloom-

But do not give up the Union. Preserve it to "flourish in Immortal youth," until it is dissolved amid "the wreck of matter and the crush of worlds." Let the patriot and statesman stand by it to the last, whether assailed by foreign or domestic foes, and if he perishes in the conflict, let him fall like Rienzi, the last of the Tribunes, upon the same stand where he has preached liberty and equality to his country

men.

Preserve it in the name of the fathers of the Revolution; preserve it for its great elements of good; preserve it in the sacred name of liberty; preserve it for the faithful and devoted lovers of the Constitution in the rebellious States,those who are persecuted for its support, and are dying in its defence. Rebellion can lay down its arms to Government,-Government cannot surrender to rebellion.

Give up the Union!-"this fair and fertile plain, to batten on that moor!" Divide the Atlantic so that its tides shall beat in sections, that some spurious Neptune may rule in an ocean of his own; draw a line upon the sun's disc, that it may cast its beams upon earth in divisions; let the moon, like Bottom in the play, show but half its face; separate the constellation of the Pleiades and sunder the bands of Orion-but retain the Union!

Give up the Union, with its glorious flag, its stars and