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Still, if the time allowed! My hour draws near; But he will prompt me when I faint with fear.
Alas, he hears me not! He cannot hear! Twice the moon filled her silver urn with light. Then from the throne an angel winged his flight; He, who unfixed the compass, and assigned O'er the wild waves a pathway to the wind; Who, while approached by none but spirits pure, Wrought, in his progress through the dread obscure, Signs like the ethereal bow that shall endure! 2
As he descended through the upper air,
Day broke on day 3 as God himself were there!
The vain to dream, the wise to doubt, shall cease;
"Not then to leave thee! to their vengeance cast, Thy heart their aliment, their dire repast!"
To other eyes shall MEXICO unfold
Her feathered tapestries, and roofs of gold,
To other eyes, from distant cliff descried,"
"What though thy gray hairs to the dust descend, Their scent shall track thee, track thee to the end; Thy sons reproached with their great father's fame," And on his world inscribed another's name! That world a prison-house, full of sights of woe, Where groans burst forth, and tears in torrents flow! These gardens of the sun, sacred to song,
By dogs of carnage, howling loud and long,
Swept till the voyager, in the desert air,15
"Not thine the olive, but the sword to bring; Not peace, but war! Yet from these shores shall spring Peace without end; " from these, with blood defiled,
Spread the pure spirit of thy Master mild!
Here, in His train, shall arts and arms attend,18
Untouched shall drop the fetters from the slave;"
And He shall rule the world he died to save!
Hence, and rejoice. The glorious work is done. A spark is thrown that shall eclipse the sun! And, though bad men shall long thy course pursue, As erst the ravening brood o'er chaos flew,21
He, whom I serve, shall vindicate his reign;
World beyond world to visit and to bless."
ON the two last leaves, and written in another hand, are some stanzas in the romance or ballad measure of the Spaniards. The subject is an adventure soon related.
THY lonely watch-tower, Larenille,
Had lost the western sun;
And loud and long from hill to hill
When Hernan, rising on his oar,
Shot like an arrow from the shore.
"Those lights are on St. Mary's Isle;
He blew and would not wait.
Home by his dangerous path he went;
Two strangers at the convent-gate.
They ascended by steps hewn out in the rock; and, having asked for admittance, were lodged there.
Brothers in arms the guests appeared;
The youngest with a princely grace!
His velvet cap a medal bore,
And ermine fringed his broidered vest;
The eldest had a rougher aspect, and there was craft in his eye stood a little behind, in a long black mantle, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword; and his white hat and white shoes glittered in the moonshine.3
"Not here unwelcome, though unknown.
The moon, that-through the portal shone,
Through many a court and gallery dim
When other sounds had died away,
"PEREZ, thou good old man," they cried,