XXIV.

Bernardo Del Carpio.-MRS HEMANS.

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! e'en 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 a 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 grey-haired chieftain's side, and there dismounting bent,

A lowly knee to earth he bent, his father's hand he took

What 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 childhood 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 his falchion from his side, and in the dust sat down.

Then covering with his steel-gloved hands his darkly mournful 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 warhorse 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.

XXV.

Patriotic Exhortation.*-REV. R. HALL.

THE inundation of lawless power, after covering the rest of Europe, threatens England; and we are most exactly, most critically placed in the only aperture, where it can be successfully repelled, in the Thermopyle of the universe.

As far as the interests of freedom are concerned, the most important by far of sublunary interests, you, my countrymen, stand in the capacity of the federal representatives of the human race for with you it is to determine, (under God) in what condition the latest posterity shall be born; their fortunes are entrusted to your care, and on your conduct at this moment depend the colour and complexion of their des

* From a Sermon delivered before the volunteers of Bristol, when an invasion of England from France was anticipated.

tiny. If liberty, after being extinguished on the continent, is suffered to expire here, where is it ever to emerge in the midst of that thick night that will invest it?

It remains with you, then, to decide, whether that freedom, at whose voice the kingdoms of Europe awoke from the sleep of ages, to run a career of virtuous emulation in every thing great and good; the freedom which dispelled the mists of superstition, and invited the nations to behold their God; whose magic touch kindled the rays of genius, the enthusiasm of poetry and the flame of eloquence; the freedom which poured into our lap opulence and arts, and embellished life with innumerable institutions, till it became a theatre of wonders: it is for you to decide whether this freedom shall yet survive, or perish for ever.

But you have decided. With such a trust, every thought of what is afflicting in warfare, every apprehension of danger must vanish, and you are impatient to mingle in the battle of the civilized world.

Go then, ye defenders of your country, accompanied with every auspicious omen; advance with alacrity into the field, where God himself musters the hosts of war. Religion is too much interested in your success, not to lend you her aid; she will shed over your enterprise her selectest influence.

While you are engaged in the field, many will repair to the closet, many to the sanctuary; the faithful of every name will employ that prayer which has power with God; the feeble hands which are unequal to any other weapon, will grasp the sword of the Spirit: and from myriads of humble, contrite hearts, the voice