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Uncovered to his grave: 'tis closed,—her loss The Mother then mourns, as she needs must
mourn; But soon, through Christian faith, is grief
subdued; And joy returns, to brighten fortitude.
FEELINGS OF A NOBLE BISCAYAN AT ONE OF
Yet, yet, Biscayans! we must meet our Foes
With firmer soul, yet labour to regain
Our ancient freedom; else 'twere worse than
vain To gather round the bier these festal shows. A garland fashioned of the pure white rose 5 Becomes not one whose father is a slave: Oh, bear the infant covered to his grave! These venerable mountains now enclose A people sunk in apathy and fear. If this endure, farewell, for us, all good! 10 The awful light of heavenly innocence Will fail to illuminate the infant's bier; And guilt and shame, from which is no defence, Descend on all that issues from our blood.
THE OAK OF GUERNICA.
The ancient oak of Guernica, says Laborde in his account of Biscay, is a most venerable natural monument. Ferdinand and Isabella, in the year 1476, after hearing Mass in the church of Santa Maria de la Antigua, repaired to this tree, under
which they swore to the Biscayans to maintain their fueros (privileges). What other interest belongs to it in the minds of this people will appear from the following
SUPPOSED ADDRESS TO THE SAME. 1810.
Oak of Guernica! Tree of holier power
If never more within their shady round
INDIGNATION OF A HIGH-MINDED SPANIARD.
We can endure that He should waste our lands,
Spain may be overpowered, and he possess,
Which he will break for us he dares to speak, Of benefits, and of a future day 10
When our enlightened minds shall bless his
sway; Then the strained heart of fortitude proves
weak; Our groans, our blushes, our pale cheeks declare That he has power to inflict what we lack
strength to bear.
AVaunt all specious pliancy of mind
In men of low degree, all smooth pretence!
I better like a blunt indifference,
And self-respecting slowness, disinclined
To win me at first sight: and be there joined 5
Patience and temperance with this high reserve,
Honour that knows the path and will not
swerve; Affections which, if put to proof, are kind; And piety towards God. Such men of old Were England's native growth; and throughout Spain 10 (Thanks to high God) forests of such remain: Then for that Country let our hopes be bold; For matched with these shall policy prove vain, Her arts, her strength, her iron, and her gold.
1810. O'erweeninq Statesmen have full long relied On fleets and armies, and external wealth: But from within proceeds a Nation's health; Which shall not fail, though poor men cleave
with pride To the paternal floor; or turn aside,
In the thronged city, from the walks of gain,
THE FRENCH AND THE SPANISH GUERILLAS.
Hunger, and sultry heat, and nipping blast From bleak hill-top, and length of march by
night Through heavy swamp, or over snow-clad
height— These hardships ill-sustained, these dangers
past, The roving Spanish Bands are reached at last, Charged, and dispersed like foam: but as a
Of scattered quails by signs do reunite,
heart! And thus from year to year his walk they
thwart, And hang like dreams around his guilty bed.
'See Laborde's character of the Spanish people; from him the sentiment of these last two lines is taken.
They seek, are sought; to daily battle led, Shrink not, though far outnumbered by their
Foes, For they have learnt to open and to close The ridges of grim war; and at their head Are captains such as erst their country bred 5 Or fostered, self-supported chiefs,—like those Whom hardy Rome was fearful to oppose; Whose desperate shock the Carthaginian fled. In One who lived unknown a shepherd's life Redoubted Viriathus breathes again; 10
And Mina, nourished in the studious shade, With that great Leader1 vies, who, sick of
strife And bloodshed, longed in quiet to be laid In some green island of the western main.
The power of Armies is a visible thing,