And checks his song to execrate Godoy, The royal wittol Charles, and curse the day When first Spain's queen beheld the black-eyed boy, XLIX. On yon long, level plain, at distance crown'd Here was the camp, the watch-flame, and the host, And points to yonder cliffs, which oft were won and lost. L. And whomsoe'er along the path you meet Bears in his cap the badge of crimson hue,* Which tells you whom to shun and whom to greet: Sharp is the knife, and sudden is the stroke; If subtle poniards, wrapt beneath the cloke, Could blunt the sabre's edge, or clear the cannon's smoke. LI. At every turn Morena's dusky height The holster'd steed beneath the shed of thatch, LII. Portend the deeds to come :-but he whose nod A little moment deigneth to delay: Soon will his legions sweep through these their way; LIII. And must they fall? the young, the proud, the brave, No step between submission and a grave? The rise of rapine and the fall of Spain? *The red cockade, with "Fernando VII." in the centre. † All who have seen a battery will recollect the pyramidal form in which shot and shells are piled. The Sierra Morena was fortified in every defile through which I passed in my way to Seville. And doth the Power that man adores ordain The Veteran's skill, Youth's fire, and Manhood's heart of steel? LIV. Is it for this the Spanish maid, aroused, LV. Ye who shall marvel when you hear her tale, Oh! had you known her in her softer hour, Mark'd her black eye that mocks her coal-black veil, Heard her light, lively tones in lady's bower, Seen her long locks that foil the painter's power, 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?* 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. *Such were the exploits of the Maid of Saragoza, who by her valour elevated herself to the highest rank of heroines. When the author was at Seville, she walked daily on the Prado, decorated with medals and orders, by command of the Junta. LVIII. The seal Love's dimpling finger hath impress'd Her glance, how wildly beautiful! how much 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 houris, whom ye scarce allow To taste the gale lest Love should ride the wind, His black-eyed maids of Heaven, angelically kind. LX. Oh thou, Parnassus! whom I now survey, 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 That I in feeblest accents must adore. In silent joy to think at last I look on thee! LXII. Happier in this than mightiest bards have been, Vestigio demonstrant mollitudinem."-AUL. GEL. |