Uncovered to his grave: 'tis closed,—her loss The Mother then mourns, as she needs must FEELINGS OF A NOBLE BISCAYAN AT ONE OF 1810. 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 people sunk in apathy and fear. 5 IO If this endure, farewell, for us, all good! XXVI. 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 The dews of morn, or April's tender shower? If never more within their shady round 10 XXVII. INDIGNATION OF A HIGH-MINDED SPANIARD. 1810. WE can endure that He should waste our lands, Spain may be overpowered, and he possess, 5 Where all the brave lie dead. But, when of bands 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. XXVIII. AVAUNT all specious pliancy of mind And self-respecting slowness, disinclined swerve; Affections which, if put to proof, are kind; And piety towards God. Such men of old Were England's native growth; and through out Spain (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. XXIX. O'ERWEENING Statesmen have full long relied To the paternal floor; or turn aside, In the thronged city, from the walks of gain, As being all unworthy to detain A Soul by contemplation sanctified. There are who cannot languish in this strife, XXX. 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 flight Of scattered quails by signs do reunite, 6 So these, and, heard of once again, are chased With combinations of long-practised art And newly-kindled hope; but they are fled— 10 Gone are they, viewless as the buried dead: Where now?-Their sword is at the Foeman's heart! And thus from year to year his walk they thwart, And hang like dreams around his guilty bed. 1810. 'See Laborde's character of the Spanish people; from him the sentiment of these last two lines is taken. XXXI. SPANISH GUERILLAS. 1811. THEY seek, are sought; to daily battle led, For they have learnt to open and to close And Mina, nourished in the studious shade, With that great Leader1 vies, who, sick of strife And bloodshed, longed in quiet to be laid XXXII. 1811. THE power of Armies is a visible thing, 5 That power, that spirit, whether on the wing Like the strong wind, or sleeping like the wind Within its awful caves.-From year to year 10 1 Sertorius. |