There, there again! that demon's there, See how his flaming eye-balls glare! Thou fiend of fiends, what's brought thee back? He smiles, he beckons me to come; What are those words thou 'st written there ?— And to thy drunken banquet come; Thus raved that maniac rum had made; Then silent sunk-his soul had fled. Ex. CXXX.-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 !" 66 Rise, rise! even 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 the gray-haired chieftain's side, and there, dismounting, bent; A lowly knee to earth he bent, his father's hand he tookWhat 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 re nown, He flung his falchion from his side, and in the dust sat down. Then covering with his steel-gloved hands his darkly mourn ful 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 war-horse 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. Ex. CXXXI.-THE VISION OF LIBERTY. THE evening heavens were calm and bright; H. WARE, JR.. That sparkled from the wilderness of worlds on high. The placid planets held their modest way; And silence reigned profound o'er earth, and sea, and sky. Oh! what an hour for lofty thought! Till morning dawned, and sleep resumed her power. A vision passed upon my soul. Flame from the broad blue arch, and guide the moonless night. When, lo! upon the plain, Just where it skirts the swelling main, A massive castle, far and high, In towering grandeur broke upon my eye. Proud in its strength and years, the ponderous pile Flung up its time-defying towers; Its lofty gates seemed scornfully to smile. Its gorgeous carvings of heraldic pride Yet ivy there and moss their garlands wove, Bursting on my steadfast gaze, So small at first, the zephyr's slightest swell, Nor makes the withered leaf to drop, The feeble fluttering of that flame would quell. But soon it spread Waving, rushing, fierce, and red, Till every fervent pillar glowed, Beautiful, fearful, grand,— Silent as death, I saw the fabric stand. Till now in rattling thunder peals it flew, Like blazing comets through the troubled sky.- Nor even its ruins met my wondering eye. But in their place, Bright with more than human grace, Radiant glory in her face, And eyes with heaven's own brightness beaming, Rose a fair, majestic form, As the mild rainbow from the storm. I marked her smile, I knew her eye; Read ye the dream? and know ye not |