might have proved her shame;
475
Perish’d, perchance, in some domestic feud,
Or in a narrower sphere wild Rapine’s path pursued.
XLV
Full swiftly Harold wends his lonely way
Where proud Sevilla triumphs unsubdued:
Yet is she free – the spoiler’s wish’d-for prey!
480
Soon, soon shall Conquest’s fiery foot intrude,
Blackening her lovely domes with traces rude.
Inevitable hour! ’Gainst fate to strive
Where Desolation plants her famish’d brood
Is vain, or Ilion, Tyre might yet survive,
485
And Virtue vanquish all, and Murder cease to thrive.
XLVI
But all unconscious of the coming doom,
The feast, the song, the revel here abounds;
Strange modes of merriment the hours consume,
Nor bleed these patriots with their country’s wounds:
490
Nor here War’s clarion, but Love’s rebeck sounds;
Here Folly still his votaries inthralls;
And young-eyed Lewdness walks her midnight rounds:
Girt with the silent crimes of Capitals,
Still to the last kind Vice clings to the tott’ring walls.
XLVII
495
Not so the rustic – with his trembling mate
He lurks, nor casts his heavy eye afar,
Lest he should view his vineyard desolate,
Blasted below the dun hot breath of war.
No more beneath soft Eve’s consenting star
500
Fandango twirls his jocund castanet:
Ah, monarchs! could ye taste the mirth ye mar,
Not in the toils of Glory would ye fret;
The hoarse dull drum would sleep, and Man be happy yet!
XLVIII
How carols now the lusty muleteer?
505
Of love, romance, devotion is his lay,
As whilome he was wont the leagues to cheer,
His quick bells wildly jingling on the way?
No! as he speeds, he chants ‘Vivã el Rey!’ 1
And checks his song to execrate Godoy,
510
The royal wittol Charles, and curse the day
When first Spain’s queen beheld the black-eyed boy
And gore-faced Treason sprung from her adulterate joy.
XLIX
On yon long, level plain, at distance crown’d
With crags, whereon those Moorish turrets rest,
515
Wide scatter’d hoof-marks dint the wounded ground;
And, scathed by fire, the greensward’s darken’d vest
Tells that the foe was Andalusia’s guest:
Here was the camp, the watch-flame, and the host,
Here the bold peasant storm’d the dragon’s nest;
520
Still does he mark it with triumphant boast,
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: 1
525
Woe to the man that walks in public view
Without of loyalty this token true:
Sharp is the knife, and sudden is the stroke;
And sorely would the Gallic foeman rue,
If subtle poniards, wrapt beneath the cloke,
530
Could blunt the sabre’s edge, or clear the cannon’s smoke.
LI
At every turn Morena’s dusky height
Sustains aloft the battery’s iron load;
And, far as mortal eye can compass sight,
The mountain-howitzer, the broken road,
535
The bristling palisade, the fosse o’erflow’d,
The station’d bands, the never-vacant watch,
The magazine in rocky durance stow’d,
The holster’d steed beneath the shed of thatch,
The ball-piled pyramid, 2 the ever-blazing match,
LII
540
Portend the deeds to come: – but he whose nod
Has tumbled feebler despots from their sway,
A moment pauseth ere he lifts the rod;
A little moment deigneth to delay:
Soon will his legions sweep through these their way;
545
The West must own the Scourger of the world.
Ah! Spain! how sad will be thy reckoning-day,
When soars Gaul’s Vulture, with his wings unfurl’d,
And thou shalt view thy sons in crowds to Hades hurl’d.
LIII
And must they fall? the young, the proud, the brave,
550
To swell one bloated Chief’s unwholesome reign?
No step between submission and a grave?
The rise of rapine and the fall of Spain?
And doth the Power that man adores ordain
Their doom, nor heed the suppliant’s appeal?
555
Is all that desperate Valour acts in vain?
And Counsel sage, and patriotic Zeal,
The Veteran’s skill, Youth’s fire, and Manhood’s heart of
475
Perish’d, perchance, in some domestic feud,
Or in a narrower sphere wild Rapine’s path pursued.
XLV
Full swiftly Harold wends his lonely way
Where proud Sevilla triumphs unsubdued:
Yet is she free – the spoiler’s wish’d-for prey!
480
Soon, soon shall Conquest’s fiery foot intrude,
Blackening her lovely domes with traces rude.
Inevitable hour! ’Gainst fate to strive
Where Desolation plants her famish’d brood
Is vain, or Ilion, Tyre might yet survive,
485
And Virtue vanquish all, and Murder cease to thrive.
XLVI
But all unconscious of the coming doom,
The feast, the song, the revel here abounds;
Strange modes of merriment the hours consume,
Nor bleed these patriots with their country’s wounds:
490
Nor here War’s clarion, but Love’s rebeck sounds;
Here Folly still his votaries inthralls;
And young-eyed Lewdness walks her midnight rounds:
Girt with the silent crimes of Capitals,
Still to the last kind Vice clings to the tott’ring walls.
XLVII
495
Not so the rustic – with his trembling mate
He lurks, nor casts his heavy eye afar,
Lest he should view his vineyard desolate,
Blasted below the dun hot breath of war.
No more beneath soft Eve’s consenting star
500
Fandango twirls his jocund castanet:
Ah, monarchs! could ye taste the mirth ye mar,
Not in the toils of Glory would ye fret;
The hoarse dull drum would sleep, and Man be happy yet!
XLVIII
How carols now the lusty muleteer?
505
Of love, romance, devotion is his lay,
As whilome he was wont the leagues to cheer,
His quick bells wildly jingling on the way?
No! as he speeds, he chants ‘Vivã el Rey!’ 1
And checks his song to execrate Godoy,
510
The royal wittol Charles, and curse the day
When first Spain’s queen beheld the black-eyed boy
And gore-faced Treason sprung from her adulterate joy.
XLIX
On yon long, level plain, at distance crown’d
With crags, whereon those Moorish turrets rest,
515
Wide scatter’d hoof-marks dint the wounded ground;
And, scathed by fire, the greensward’s darken’d vest
Tells that the foe was Andalusia’s guest:
Here was the camp, the watch-flame, and the host,
Here the bold peasant storm’d the dragon’s nest;
520
Still does he mark it with triumphant boast,
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: 1
525
Woe to the man that walks in public view
Without of loyalty this token true:
Sharp is the knife, and sudden is the stroke;
And sorely would the Gallic foeman rue,
If subtle poniards, wrapt beneath the cloke,
530
Could blunt the sabre’s edge, or clear the cannon’s smoke.
LI
At every turn Morena’s dusky height
Sustains aloft the battery’s iron load;
And, far as mortal eye can compass sight,
The mountain-howitzer, the broken road,
535
The bristling palisade, the fosse o’erflow’d,
The station’d bands, the never-vacant watch,
The magazine in rocky durance stow’d,
The holster’d steed beneath the shed of thatch,
The ball-piled pyramid, 2 the ever-blazing match,
LII
540
Portend the deeds to come: – but he whose nod
Has tumbled feebler despots from their sway,
A moment pauseth ere he lifts the rod;
A little moment deigneth to delay:
Soon will his legions sweep through these their way;
545
The West must own the Scourger of the world.
Ah! Spain! how sad will be thy reckoning-day,
When soars Gaul’s Vulture, with his wings unfurl’d,
And thou shalt view thy sons in crowds to Hades hurl’d.
LIII
And must they fall? the young, the proud, the brave,
550
To swell one bloated Chief’s unwholesome reign?
No step between submission and a grave?
The rise of rapine and the fall of Spain?
And doth the Power that man adores ordain
Their doom, nor heed the suppliant’s appeal?
555
Is all that desperate Valour acts in vain?
And Counsel sage, and patriotic Zeal,
The Veteran’s skill, Youth’s fire, and Manhood’s heart of
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