Shone with a youthful ardour while he spake, His gathering brow grew stern, and as he raised His arm, a warrior's impulse charactered
The impassioned gesture. But the King was calm, And heard him with unchanging countenance; For he had taken his resolve, and felt Once more the peace of God within his soul, As in that hour when by his father's grave He knelt before Pelayo.
Soon the old man Pursued in calmer tones.-Thus much I dare Believe, that Roderick fell not on that day When treason brought about his overthrow. If yet he live, for sure I think I know Ilis noble mind, 't is in some wilderness, Where, in some savage den inhumed, he drags The weary load of life, and on his flesh As on a mortal enemy, inflicts Fierce vengeance with immitigable hand. O that I knew but where to bend my way
In his dear search! my voice perhaps might reach His heart, might reconcile him to himself, Restore him to his mother ere she dies, His people and his country; with the sword, Them and his own good name should he redeem.
O might I but behold him once again Leading to battle these intrepid bands, Such as he was,-yea rising from his fall More glorious, more beloved! Soon I believe Joy would accomplish then what grief hath failed To do with this old heart, and I should die Clasping his knees with such intense delight, That when I woke in Heaven, even Heaven itself Could have no higher happiness in store.
Thus fervently he spake, and copious tears Ran down his cheeks. Full oft the Royal Goth, Since he came forth again among mankind, Had trembled lest some curious should read His lineaments too closely; now he longed To fall the neck of that old man, And give his full heart utterance. Of duty, by the pride of self-controul Corroborate, made him steadily repress His yearning nature. Whether Roderick live, Paying in penitence the bitter price
Of sin, he answered, or if earth hath given Rest to his earthly part, is only known
To him and Heaven. Dead is he to the world; And let not these imaginations rob His soul of thy continual prayers, whose aid Too surely, in whatever world, he needs. The faithful love that mitigates his fault, Beavenward addrest, may mitigate his doom. Living or dead, old man, be sure his soul,- It were unworthy else,-doth hold with thine Entire communion! Doubt not he relies Firmly on thee, as on a father's love, Counts on thy offices, and joins with thee In sympathy and fervent act of faith,
Though regions, or though worlds, should intervene. Lost as he is, to Roderick this must be Thy first, best, dearest duty; next must be To hold right onward in that noble path,
Which he would counsel, could his voice be heard. Now therefore aid me, while I call upon
Now when from Covadonga down the vale Holding his way, the princely mountaineer Came with that happy family in sight Of Cangas and his native towers, far off He saw before the gate, in fair array, The assembled land. Broad banners were displayed, And spears were sparkling to the sun, shields shone, And helmets glittered, and the blairing horn, With frequent sally of impatient joy, Provoked the echoes round. Well he areeds, From yonder ensigns and augmented force, That Odoar and the Primate from the west Have brought their aid; but wherefore all were thus Instructed, as for some great festival,
He found not, till Favila's quicker eye Catching the ready buckler, the glad boy Leapt up, and clapping his exultant hands,
Shouted, King! King! my father shall be King
This day! Pelayo started at the word,
And the first thought which smote him brought a sigh For Roderick's fall; the second was of hope, Deliverance for his country, for himself Enduring fame, aud glory for his line.
That high prophetic forethought gathered strength, As looking to his honoured mate, he read Her soul's accordant augury; her eyes Brightened; the quickened action of the blood Tinged with a deeper hue her glowing cheek, And on her lips there sate a smile which spake The honourable pride of perfect love, Rejoicing, for her husband's sake, to share The lot he chose, the perils he defied, The lofty fortune which their faith foresaw.
Roderick, in front of all the assembled troops, Held the broad buckler, following to the end That steady purpose to the which his zeal Had this day wrought the Chiefs. Tall as himself, Erect it stood beside him, and his hands Hung resting on the rim. This was an hour That sweetened life, repaid and recompensed All losses; and although it could not heal All griefs, yet laid them for awhile to rest. The active agitating joy that filled
The vale, that with contagious influence spread Through all the exulting mountaineers, that gave New ardour to all spirits, to all breasts Inspired fresh impulse of excited hope, Moved every tongue, and strengthened every limb,- That joy which every man reflected saw
From every face of all the multitude, And heard in every voice, in sound, Reached not the King. Aloof from sympathy, He from the solitude of his own soul
Beheld the busy scene. None shared or knew His deep and incommunicable joy; None but that Heavenly Father, who alone
Beholds the struggles of the heart, alone Knows and rewards the secret sacrifice. 43
Among the chiefs conspicuous Urban stood,
He whom, with well-weighed choice, in arduous time, To arduous office the consenting Church Had called when Sindered 44 fear-smitten fled; Unfaithful shepherd, who for life alone Solicitous, forsook his flock, when most In peril and in suffering they required
A pastor's care. Far off at Rome he dwells In ignominious safety, while the Church Keeps in her annals the deserter's name; But from the service which with daily zeal Devout her ancient prelacy recalls,
Blots it, unworthy to partake her prayers.45 Urban, to that high station thus being called, From whence disanimating fear had driven The former primate, for the general weal Consulting first, removed with timely care The relics and the written works of saints, Toledo's choicest treasure, prized beyond All wealth, their living and their dead remains; These to the mountain fastnesses he bore Of unsubdued Cantabria, there deposed, One day to be the boast of yet unbuilt Oviedo, and the dear idolatry
Of multitudes unborn. 46 To things of state
Then giving thought mature, he held advice With Odoar, whom of counsel competent
Of Grecian or Italian artist, trained In the eastern capital, or sacred Rome, Still o'er the West predominant, though fallen. Better the spear befits the shepherd's hand When robbers break the fold. Now he had laid The weapon by, and held a natural cross Of rudest form, unpeeled, even as it grew On the near oak that morn.
Of royal rites was this solemnity. Where was the rubied crown, the sceptre where, And where the golden pome, the proud array Of ermines, aureate vests, and jewelry, With all which Leuvigild for after kings Left, ostentatious of his power? 50 The Moor Had made his spoil of these, and on the field Of Xercs, where contending multitudes Had trampled it beneath their bloody feet, The standard of the Goths forgotten lay Defiled, and rotting there in sun and rain. Utterly is it lost; nor ever more Herald or antiquary's patient search Shall from forgetfulness avail to save Those blazoned arms, so fatally of old Renowned through all the affrighted Occident. That banner, before which imperial Rome First to a conqueror bowed her head abased; Which when the dreadful Hun with all his powers Came like a deluge rolling o'er the world, Made head, and in the front of battle broke
And firm of heart he knew. What then they planned, His force, till then resistless; which so oft
Time and the course of over-ruled events
To earlier act had ripened, than their hope Had ever in its gladdest dream proposed; And here by agents unforeseen, and means Beyond the scope of foresight brought about, This day they saw their dearest heart's desire Accorded them: All-able Providence
Thus having ordered all, that Spain this hour With happiest omens, and on surest base, Should from its ruins rear again her throne.
For acclamation and for sacring now
One form must serve, more solemn for the breach Of old observances, whose absence here Deeplier imprest the heart, than all display Of regal pomp and wealth pontifical, Of vestments radiant with their gems, and stiff With ornature of gold; the glittering train, The long procession, and the full-voiced choir. This day the forms of piety and war, In strange but fitting union must combine. Not in his alb and cope and orary 47 Came Urban now, nor wore he mitre here, Precious or auriphrygiate; 48 bare of head He stood, all else in arms complete, and o'er His gorget's iron rings the pall was thrown Of wool undyed, which on the Apostle's tomb Gregory had laid, 49 and sanctified with prayer; That from the living Pontiff and the dead Replete with holiness, it might impart Doubly derived its grace. One Page beside Bore his broad-shadowed helm; another's hand Held the long spear, more suited in these times For Urban, than the crosier richly wrought With silver foliature, the elaborate work
Had with alternate fortune braved the Frank; Driven the Byzantine from the farthest shores Of Spain, long lingering there, to final flight; And of their kingdoms and their name despoiled The Vandal, and the Alan, and the Sueve; 51 Blotted from human records is it now
As it had never been. So let it rest With things forgotten! But Oblivion ne'er Shall cancel from the historic roll, nor Time,
Who changeth all obscure that fated sign, Which brighter now than mountain snows at noon To the bright sun displays its argent field.
Refulgent, and recalled that thrilling shout Which he had heard when on Romano's grave The joy of victory woke him from his dream, And sent him with prophetic hope to work Fulfilment of the great events ordained, There in imagination's inner world Prefigured to his soul.
Alone advanced Before the ranks, the Goth in silence stood, While from all voices round, loquacious joy Mingled its buzz continuous with the blast Of horn, shrill pipe, and tinkling cymbals' clash, And sound of deafening drum. But when the Prince Drew nigh, and Urban with the cross upheld Stept forth to meet him, all at once were stilled With instantaneous hush; as when the wind, Before whose violent gusts the forest oaks, Tossing like billows their tempestuous heads, Roar like a raging sea, suspends its force, And leaves so dead a calm that not a leaf Moves on the silent spray. The passing air Bore with it from the woodland undisturbed The ringdove's wooing, and the quiet voice Of waters warbling near.
Now and for ever, O my countrymen! Replied Pelayo; and so deal with me
Here and hereafter, thou, Almighty God, In whom I put my trust!
Lord God of Hosts, 51 Urban pursued, of Angels and of Men Creator and Disposer, King of Kings, Ruler of Earth and Heaven,-look down this day, And multiply thy blessings on the head Of this thy servant, chosen in thy sight! Be thou his counsellor, his comforter,
His hope, his joy, his refuge, and his strength! Crown him with justice, and with fortitude! Defend him with thy all-sufficient shield! Surround him every where with the right hand Of thine all-present power! and with the might Of thine omnipotence, send in his aid Thy unseen angels forth, that potently And royally against all enemies
He may endure and triumph! Bless the land O'er which he is appointed; bless it with The waters of the firmament, the springs Of the low-lying deep, the fruits which sun And moon mature for man, the precious stores Of the eternal hills, and all the gifts Of earth, its wealth and fulness!
Then he took Pelayo's hand, and on his finger placed
The mystic circlet.-With this ring, O Prince, To our dear Spain, who like a widow now Mourneth in desolation, I thee wed: For weal or woe thou takest her, till death Dispart the union: Be it blest to her, To thee, and to thy seed!
He gave the awaited signal. Roderick brought The buckler: 53 Eight for strength and stature chosen Came to their honoured office: Round the shield Standing, they lower it for the Chieftain's feet, Then slowly raised upon their shoulders lift The steady weight. Erect Pelayo stands, And thrice he brandishes the shining sword, While Urban to the assembled people cries, Spaniards, behold your King! The multitude Then sent forth all their voice with glad acclaim, Raising the loud Real; thrice did the word Ring through the air, and echo from the walls Of Cangas. Far and wide the thundering shout, Rolling among reduplicating rocks,
Pealed o'er the hills, and up the mountain vales. The wild ass starting in the forest glade Rau to the covert; the affrighted wolf Skulked through the thicket, to a closer brake; The sluggish bear, awakened in his den, Roused up, and answered with a sullen growl, Low-breathed and long; and at the uproar scared, The brooding eagle from her nest took wing.
Heroes and Chiefs of old! and ye who bore Firm to the last your part in that dread strife, When Julian and Witiza's viler race Betrayed their country, hear ye from The joyful acclamation which proclaims That Spain is born again! O ye who died In that disastrous field, and ye who fell Embracing with a martyr's love your death Amid the flames of Auria; and all ye Victims innumerable, whose cries unheard On earth, but heard in heaven, from all the land
Went up for vengeance; not in vain ye cry
Before the eternal throne!-Rest, innocent blood! Vengeance is due, and vengeance will be given! Rest, innocent blood! The appointed age is come! The star that harbingers a glorious day Hath risen! Lo there the avenger stands! Lo there Ble brandishes the avenging sword! Lo there The avenging banner spreads its argent field Refulgent with auspicious light!-Rejoice, O Leon, for thy banner is displayed, 54 Rejoice with all thy mountains, and thy vales And streams! And thou, O Spain, through all thy realms, For thy deliverance cometh! Even now,
As from all sides the miscreant hosts move on;- From southern Betis; from the western lands Where through redundant vales smooth Minho flows, And Douro pours through vine-clad hills the wealth Of Leon's gathered waters; from the plains Burgensian, in old time Vardulia called, But in their castellated strength ere long To be designed Castille, a deathless name; From midland regions where Toledo reigns Proud city on her royal eminence, And Tagus bends his sickle round the scene Of Roderick's fall;55 from rich Rioja's fields;
Dark Ebro's shores; the walls of Salduba, Seat of the Sedetanians old, by Rome Cæsarian and August denominate, Now Zaragoza, in his later time
Above all cities of the earth renowned For duty perfectly performed;-East, West, And South, where'er their gathered multitudes Urged by the speed of vigorous tyranny, With more than with commeasurable strength Haste to prevent the danger, crush the hopes Of rising Spain, and rivet round her neck The eternal yoke,—the ravenous fowls of heaven Flock there presentient of their food obscene, Following the accursed armies, whom too well They know their purveyors long. Pursue their march, Ominous attendants! Ere the moon hath filled Her horns, these purveyors shall become the prey, And ye on Moorish not on Christian flesh Wearying your beaks, shall clog your scaly feet With foreign gore. Soon will ye learn to know, Followers and harbingers of blood, the flag 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 Calvijo, where the dreadful cry Of Santiago, then first heard, o'erpowered 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 scattered and destroyed, 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, rolled 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.
RODERICK AND RUSILLA.
WHEN all had been performed, the royal Goth Looked up toward the chamber in the tower, Where, gazing on the multitude below, Alone Rusilla stood. He met her eve, For it was singling him amid the crowd; Obeying then the hand which beckoned him, He went with heart prepared, nor shriuking now, But arm'd with self-approving thoughts that hour. Entering in tremulous baste, he closed the door, And turned 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 furrowed countenance, exclaimed, Still, still, my Roderick! the same noble mind!
The same heroic heart! Still, still, my Son!- Changed,—yet not wholly fall'n,- -not wholly lost, He cried, not wholly in the sight of Heaven Unworthy, O my Mother, nor iu thine! She locked her arms again around his neck, Saying, Lord let me now depart in peace! And bowed her head again, and silently Gave way to tears.
When that first force was past, And passion in exhaustment found relief,— I knew thee, said Rusilla, when the dog Rose from my feet, and licked his master's hand. All flashed 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 seemed,-Siverian's tale,- Florinda's,-every action,-every word,— Each strengthening each, and all confirming all, Revealed thee, O my son! but I restrained My heart, and yielded to thy holier will The thoughts which rose to tempt a soul not yet Weaned wholly from the world.
What thoughts? replied Roderick. That I might see thee yet again Such as thou wert, she answered; 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 beart
Healed, 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 trained 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 renewed, And love to think the little hand which there Played 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 unflawed; 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 length, 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 flow 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 achieve 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 answered, and subdued the vain desire.
It was the World's last effort. Thou hast chosen The better part. Yea, 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 His earthly weal,--unerring Justice claimed In forfeiture. I with submitted soul Bow to the righteous law and kiss the rod. Only while thus submitted, suffering thus,- Only while offering up that name on earth, Perhaps in trial offered to my choice, Could I present myself before thy sight; Thus only could endure myself, or fix My thoughts upon that fearful pass, where Death Stands in the Gate of Heaven!-Time passes on, The healing work of sorrow is complete; All vain desires have long been weeded out, All vain regrets subdued; the heart is dead, The soul is ripe and eager for her birth. Bless me, my Mother! and come when it will The inevitable hour, we die in peace.
So saying, on her knees he bowed his head; She raised her hands to Heaven and blest her child; Then bending forward, as he rose, embraced And claspt him to her heart, and cried, Once more, Theodofred, with pride behold thy son!
THE MOORISH CAMP.
Taɛ times are big with tidings; every hour From east and west and south the breathless scouts Bring swift alarums in; the gathering foe,
Advancing from all quarters to one point, Close their wide crescent. Nor was aid of fear To magnify their numbers needed now: They came in myriads. Africa had poured Fresh shoals upon the coast of wretched Spain; Lured from their hungry deserts to the scene Of spoil, like vultures to the battle-field, Fierce, unrelenting, habited in crimes, Like bidden guests the mirthful ruffians flock To that free feast which in their Prophet's name Rapine and Lust proclaimed. Nor were the chiefs Of victory less assured, by long success Elate, and proud of that o'erwhelming strength, Which, surely they believed, as it had rolled Thus far uncheck'd, would roll victorious on, Till, like the Orient, the subjected West Should bow in reverence at Mahommed's name; And pilgrims, from remotest Arctic shores, Tread with religious feet the burning sands Of Araby and Mecca's stony soil. Proud of his part in Roderick's overthrow, Their leader Abulcacem came, a man Immitigable, long in war renowned.
Here Magued comes, who on the conquered walls Of Cordoba by treacherous fear betrayed, Planted the moony standard: Ibrahim here, He, who by Genil and in Darro's vales,
Had for the Moors the fairest portion won Of all their spoils, fairest and best maintained, And to the Alpuxarras given in trust His other name, through them preserved in song. Here too Alcahman, vaunting his late deeds At Auria, all her children by the sword Cut off, her bulwarks rased, her towers laid low, Her dwellings by devouring flames consumed. Bloody and hard of heart, he little weened, Vain boastful chief! that from those fatal flames The fire of retribution had gone forth Which soon should wrap him round.
Here too were seen, Elba and Sisibert; A spurious brood, but of their parents' crimes True heirs in guilt begotten, and in ill Trained up. The same unnatural rage that turned Their swords against their country, made them seek, Unmindful of their wretched mother's end, Pelayo's life. No enmity is like Domestic hatred! For his blood they thirst, As if that sacrifice might satisfy Witiza's guilty ghost, efface the shame
Of their adulterous birth, and, one crime more Crowning a hideous course, emancipate Thenceforth their spirits from all earthly fear. This was their only care; but other thoughts Were rankling in that elder villain's mind, Their kinsman Orpas, he of all the crew, Who in this fatal visitation fell,
The foulest and the falsest wretch that e'er Renounced his baptism. From his cherished views Of royalty cut off, he coveted
Count Julian's wide domains, and hopeless now To gain them through the daughter, laid his toils Against the father's life,-the instrument Of his ambition first, and now designed Its victim. To this end with cautious hints,
At favouring season ventured, he possessed
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