Wo to the man that walks in public view 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, The Veteran's skill, Youth's fire, and Manhood's heart of steel? (1) 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. 3 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 qua 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 Heard her light, lively tones in Lady's bower, Seen her long locks that foil the painter's power, Her fairy form, with more than female grace, Scarce would you deem that Saragoza's tower Beheld her smile in Danger's Gorgon face, Thin the closed ranks, and lead in Glory's fearful c Her lover sinks - she sheds no ill-timed tear; Her chief is slain - she fills his fatal post; Her fellows flee-she checks their base career; The foe retires-she heads the sallying host: Who can appease like her a lover's ghost? Who can avenge so well a leader's fall? What maid retrieve when man's flush'd hope is los Who hang so fiercely on the flying Gaul, Foil'd by a woman's hand, before a batter'd wall? () (1) Such were the exploits of the Maid of Saragoza. When the aut Seville she walked daily on the Prado, decorated with medals and order mand of the Junta. Pecking the hand that hovers o'er her mate: 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 Her glance how wildly beautiful! how much LIX. Match me, ye climes! which poets love to laud; Match me those Houries, whom ye scarce allow His black-eyed maids of Heaven, angelically kind. LX. Oh, thou Parnassus! (2) whom I now survey, 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. (1) "Sigilla in mento impressa Amoris digitulo Vestigio demonstrant mollitudinem." AUL. GEL. (2) These stanzas were written in Castri, (Delphos,) at the foot of Parnassis, now called Atakupa-Liakura. LXI. Oft have I dream'd of Thee! whose glorious name In silent joy to think at last I look on Thee! LXII. Happier in this than mightiest bards have been, LXIII. Of thee hereafter. Ev'n amidst my strain And hail'd thee, not perchance without a tear. Yield me one leaf of Daphne's deathless plant, Nor let thy votary's hope be deem'd an idle vaunt. LXIV. But ne'er didst thou, fair Mount! when Greece was young, See round thy giant base a brighter choir, Nor e'er did Delphi, when her priestess sung The Pythian hymn with more than mortal fire, The song of love than Andalusia's maids, Ah! that to these were given such peaceful shades As Greece can still bestow, though Glory fly her glad‹ s. LXV. Fair is proud Seville; let her country boast Her strength, her wealth, her site of ancient days; (') Calls forth a sweeter, though ignoble praise. A Cherub-hydra round us dost thou gape, LXVI. When Paphos fell by time - accursed Time! To nought else constant, hither deign'd to flee; A housand altars rise, for ever blazing bright. LXVII. From morn till night, from night till startled Morn; Peeps blushing on the revel's laughing crew, The song is heard, the rosy garland worn; Devices quaint, and frolics ever new, Tread on each other's kibes. A long adieu He bids to sober joy that here sojourns Nought interrupts the riot, though in lieu Of true devotion monkish incense burns, And love and prayer unite, or rule the hour bv turns. LXVIII. The Sabbath comes, a day of blessed rest; What hallows it upon this Christian shore? Lo! it is sacred to a solemn feast; Hark! heard you not the forest-monarch's roar? Crashing the lance, he snuffs the spouting gore Of man and steed, o'erthrown beneath his horn; The throng'd arena shakes with shouts for more; Yells the mad crowd o'er entrails freshly torn, Nor shrinks the female eye, nor ev'n affects to mourn. (1) Seville was the Hispalis of the Romans. |