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LXIII. THE GLADIATOR.
I SEE before me the Gladiator lie:
He leans upon his hand; his manly brow
And his drooped head sinks gradually low;
Like the first of a thunder-shower; and now
Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won.
He heard it, but he heeded not- his eyes
All this rushed with his blood. Shall he expire,
LXIV. LAMENTATION FOR THE DEATH OF CELIN.* Ar the gate of old Grana'da, when all its bolts are barred, At twilight, at the Vega-gate, there is a trampling heard; There is a trampling heard, as of horses treading slow, And a weeping voice of women, and a heavy sound of woe. "What tower is fallen? what star is set ? what chief come these bewailing?"
"A tower is fallen! A star is set! Alas! alas for Celin!"
Three times they knock, three times they cry, and wide the doors they throw;
Dejectedly they enter, and mournfully they go!
In gloomy lines they mustering stand beneath the hollow porch,
Him yesterday a Moor did slay, of Bencerraje's blood: 'T was at the solemn jousting; around the nobles stood;
* Pronounce Sălin,
THE AMERICAN REPUBLIC. :
The nobles of the land were by, and ladies bright and fair Looked from their latticed windows, the haughty sight to share; But now the nobles all lament, the ladies are bewailing,
For he was Granada's darling knight, — "Alas! alas for Celin!"
With ashes on their turbans spread, most pitiful to view;
Between the tambour's dismal strokes take up their doleful tale; When stops the muffled drum, ye hear their brotherless bewailing,
And all the people, far and near, cry, "Alas! alas for Celin!"
The flower of all Granada's youth, the loveliest of them all;
The crust of blood lies black and dim upon his burnished mail;
The Moorish maid at her lattice stands, the Moor stands at his
One maid is wringing of her hands, and one is weeping sore. Down to the dust men bow their heads, and ashes black they
Upon their broidered garments, of crimson, green, and blue ; Before each gate the bier stands still, then bursts the loud bewailing,
From door and lattice, high and low, -"Alas! alas for Celin!" An old, old woman cometh forth, when she hears the people cry; Her hair is white as silver, like horn her glazed eye;
'Twas she who nursed him at her breast, who nursed him long
She knows not whom they all lament, but, ah! she soon shall
With one loud shriek, she through doth break, when her ears receive their wailing,
"Let me kiss my Celin ere I die!
- Alas! alas for Celin!"
LXV. THE AMERICAN REPUBLIC.
THE name of Commonwealth is past and
If the free Switzer yet bestrides alone
Full of the magic of exploded science
Still one great clime, in full and free defiance,
The floating fence of Albion's feebler crag,
May strike to those whose red right hands have bought
LXVI. THE LYRE AND THE SWORD.
The following will be found suitable for delivery by three speakers. Let the First Speaker be on the right, the Second on the left, and the Third in the middle. The First and Second Speakers will distinguish between those parts of their stanzas addressed to the audience, and those parts addressed to the Third Speaker.
"O, ARM thee, youthful warrior,
Come forth to breast, undaunted,
The battle's crimson tide;
THE LYRE AND THE SWORD.
Where the clarion soundeth joyously
Lies all the choice thou hast!"
But a Lyre hung near that falchion,
Ah, bring not thou the voice of tears
* Pronounced sord, by Walker, Smart, and the best English authorities.
The Sword spake yet more proudly:
Or the shame for those who fly?
To own thee for a son?
How should he brook his line's disgrace?
Out spake that youthful warrior: *
Where my true father fell:
"And thou, fond Lyre, remember
Still have thy noblest strains been poured
It may be more effective to omit this line in the delivery.
Here a hand on the First's shoulder; at Lyre on the Second's, and a look upward.