As used to shine of old!

No longer to one battle cry
United Spaniards run,

And with their thronging spears uphold
The Virgin and her Son!

From Cadiz Bay to rough Biscay
Internal discord dwells,

And Barcelona bears the scars
Of Spanish shot and shells.

The fleets decline, the merchants pine
For want of foreign trade;

And gold is scant; and Alicante

Is seal'd by strict blockade!

The loyal fly, and Valour falls,
Opposed by court intrigue;
But treachery and traitors thrive,
Upheld by foreign league;

While factions seeking private ends

By turns usurping reign

Well may the dreaming, scheming Moor

Exulting point to Spain !

Well may he cleanse the rusty Key

With Afric sand and oil,

And hope an Andalusian home

Shall recompense the toil!

Well may he swear the Moorish spear

Through wild Castile shall sweep,
And where the Catalonian sow'd
The Saracen shall reap!

Well may he vow to spurn the Cross
Beneath the Arab hoof,

And plant the Crescent yet again

Above th' Alhambra's roof

When those from whom St. Jago's name

In chorus once arose,

Are shouting Faction's battle-cries,
And Spain forgets to "Close!"

Well may he swear his ataghan
Shall rout the traitor swarm,
And carve them into Arabesques
That show no human form-

The blame be theirs whose bloody feuds
Invite the savage Moor,

And tempt him with the ancient Key
To seek the ancient door!

FAIR INES.

I.

O SAW ye not fair Ines?
She's gone into the West,
To dazzle when the sun is down,
And rob the world of rest:
She took our daylight with her,

The smiles that we love best,

With morning blushes on her cheek,
And pearls upon her breast.

II.

O turn again, fair Ines,

Before the fall of night,

For fear the Moon should shine alone,

And stars unrivall'd bright;

And blessed will the lover be

That walks beneath their light,

And breathes the love against thy cheek

I dare not even write!

III.

Would I had been, fair Ines,

That gallant cavalier,

Who rode so gayly by thy side,
And whisper'd thee so near!-

Were there no bonny dames at home,
Or no true lovers here,

That he should cross the seas to win
The dearest of the dear?

IV.

I saw thee, lovely Ines,
Descend along the shore,
With bands of noble gentlemen,
And banners waved before;

And gentle youth and maidens gay,
And snowy plumes they wore;—

It would have been a beauteous dream,
-If it had been no more!

Alas, alas, fair Ines,

V.

She went away with song,

With Music waiting on her steps,

And shoutings of the throng;

But some were sad, and felt no mirth,

But only Music's wrong,

In sounds that sang Farewell, Farewell, To her you've loved so long.

VI.

Farewell, farewell, fair Ines,
That vessel never bore
So fair a lady on its deck,
Nor danced so light before,-
Alas for pleasure on the sea,
And sorrow on the shore !

The smile that blest one lover's heart
Has broken many more!

THE DEPARTURE OF SUMMER.

SUMMER is gone on swallows' wings,
And earth has buried all her flowers:
No more the lark, the linnet sings,
But Silence sits in faded bowers.
There is a shadow on the plain
Of Winter ere he comes again,—
There is in woods a solemn sound
Of hollow warnings whisper'd round,
As Echo in her deep recess

For once had turn'd a prophetess.
Shuddering Autumn stops to list,
And breathes his fear in sudden sighs,
With clouded face, and hazel eyes
That quench themselves, and hide in mist.

Yes, Summer's gone like pageant bright; Its glorious days of golden light

Are gone the mimic suns that quiver,
Then melt in Time's dark-flowing river.
Gone the sweetly-scented breeze
That spoke in music to the trees;
Gone for damp and chilly breath,
As if fresh blown o'er marble seas,
Or newly from the lungs of Death.-
Gone its virgin roses' blushes,
Warm as when Aurora rushes
Freshly from the god's embrace,
With all her shame upon her face.
Old Time hath laid them in the mould;
Sure he is blind as well as old,
Whose hand relentless never spares
Young cheeks so beauty-bright as theirs!
Gone are the flame-eyed lovers now
From where so blushing-blest they tarried
Under the hawthorn's blossom-bough,

Gone; for Day and Night are married.
All the light of love is fled :-

:

Alas! that negro breasts should hide
The lips that were so rosy red,
At morning and at even-tide!

Delightful Summer! then adieu
Till thou shalt visit us anew:
But who without regretful sigh
Can say, adieu, and see thee fly?
Not he that e'er hath felt thy pow'r,
His joy expanding like a flow'r
That cometh after rain and snow,
Looks up at heaven, and learns to glow:-
Not he that fled from Babel-strife
To the green sabbath-land of life,

To dodge dull Care 'mid cluster'd trees,
And cool his forehead in the breeze,―
Whose spirit, weary-worn perchance,
Shook from its wings a weight of grief,
And perch'd upon an aspen leaf,
For every breath to make it dance.

Farewell!-on wings of sombre stain,
That blacken in the last blue skies,
Thou fly'st; but thou wilt come again
On the gay wings of butterflies.
Spring at thy approach will sprout
Her new Corinthian beauties out,
Leaf-woven homes, where twitter-words
Will grow to songs, and eggs to birds;
Ambitious buds shall swell to flowers,
And April smiles to sunny hours.
Bright days shall be, and gentle nights
Full of soft breath and echo-lights,
As if the god of sun-time kept
His eyes half-open while he slept.
Roses shall be where roses were,
Not shadows, but reality;