Check this mad fury! wait the coming fray!
Then shall it crush the foe in glory's day.

What a wild rage is this that bears you on,
Blindly, to sure perdition,-to despair!
These murderous, fratricidal swords throw down,
Or point them at the tyrant! He is here!
The Christian felons, noble chiefs! are near.
Spill their base blood! but spare, O spare your own!
Die if you will,-like men, like patriots die;
But dread a death of shame, of infamy.

Madden your weapons
O let them probe th' invader's inmost breast;
He who would chain you to his proud control,—

with th' enthusiast soul!

To slavery, insult!-O 'twere wise, 'twere best To stay his fettering hand, nor tamely rest While strength and valour on your efforts call! Your blood, chiefs, is your country's!-guard it then For her!-it is not yours, heroic men!

It grieves me not to see a warlike rage,—
I hail the rapturous fury of the brave!
But never let its violence engage

In struggles leading on to freedom's grave;
Such madness loses what it seeks to save:
Discord's deep wounds, not valour can assuage.
I cannot bear it, chiefs!—if this must be,
Come wreak your waking violence on me.

Let me fall first; for I am sick of life,

And wearied with misfortune:-let me die!
Devote my bosom to the horrid knife,

Since these sad thoughts end not my misery!
Happy the dying babe! O why was I

Thus made the victim of this vain world's strife?
Yet will I raise my voice, though weak and rude,—
The tears of age may touch the brave, the good.

In strength and valour ye all equal are;
To each a noble heritage was given !

And power, and wealth, and bravery in war,

Were equally conferr'd by bounteous Heaven. In greatness,-strength of soul,-ye all are even, And each might rule the world, they blaze so far. Now prove your worth by valiant hero-deeds: This is no time for words! your country bleeds.

I trust your arms,—your hearts; nor aught suspect ;
The future smiles:- there is no thought of fear!
Yet it were wise some chieftain to elect

Who all may govern, and whom all revere.
Let it be he who yon vast log can bear
Longest upon his shoulder, firm, erect.
Since wealth and fortune made ye equal all,
Upon the strongest chief the lot shall fall.

Madrid, 1776, p. 27-29.

COMENDADOR ESCRIBA.

WELCOME DEATH.

"Ven muerte, tan escondida."

COME, gentle death! come silently,-
And sound no knell, no warning give,
Lest the sweet bliss of welcoming thee
Should rouse my wearied soul to live.

Come like the rapid lightning's ray,

That wounds, but while it wounds is still;

It passes, voiceless, on its way,

And flings its mortal barb at will.

Thus soft, thus calm, thy coming be,
Else, death! this warning now I give,
That the sweet bliss of welcoming thee
Will rouse my weary soul to live.

Cancionero de Valencia, 1511, p. 128.

VICENTE ESPINEL.

FAINT HEART NEVER WON FAIR LADY.

"Siempre alcanza lo que quiere.”

HE who is both brave and bold
Wins the lady that he would;
But the courageless and cold
Never did, and never could.

Modesty, in women's game,
Is a wide and shielding veil :
They are tutor❜d to conceal
Passion's fiercely burning flame.
He who serves them brave and bold,

He alone is understood;

But the courageless and cold

Ne'er could win, and never should.

If you love a lady bright,

Seek-and shall find a way;

you

All that love would say-to say—

If you watch the occasion right,

Cupid's ranks are brave and bold,
Every soldier firm and good;
But the courageless and cold

Ne'er have conquer'd-never could.

Rimas, Madrid, 1591, p. 139.