And Andes, in officious love, Impels his giant bulk above,

To prop the glorious arch, and shroud His head in evening's purple cloud.

So nature wrought: admiring man
With duteous zeal pursued the plan;
Culling, to deck his varied store,

The charm she wove, the robe she wore
Nurtured the infant race of flowers
In broad parterre, and perfumed bowers:
Leading the silvery founts to play
Through sculptured forms in freshening spray;
Taught the transparent beam to roam
On marble wall, and jasper dome ;
Earth's secret treasuries displayed
In pillared porch and colonnade:
Lofty and bold the turrets swell,
As mountains from the western dell;
Innumerous and bright they blaze,
As dew-drops in the morning's gaze :
And softly smiled the star of eve,
Where gold and flowers the net enwreathe ;
While, in unfelt captivity,

Their wildest notes the warblers sing,
And spread beneath a mimic sky

The glancing crest, and glorious wing,
Till, rich in death, their beauties live
In prouder tints than art can give :
Dear was that native skill-how dear
The few poor wrecks that moulder here!

"Nor lordly man unlettered trod
The glittering court and sylvan sod:
In nature's darkest thraldom pent,
Her chain his soaring spirit rent,

Rose through the wildering mist, and caught
The day-beam of inspiring thought;
Science illumed his searching eye,
And empire crowned his policy:
Through space unmeasured, undefined,

He led the conquering march of mind;
Firm as the targe his shoulder bore,
And pliant as the plume he wore.
Ye say, that, o'er this dazzling scene,
Spirits of ill, and powers unclean,
Usurping, rolled an impious flood
Of cruelty, pollution, blood;
While ye, in heaven-sent mercy, came
To blanch the blushing spot of shame,
And plant upon the guilty sod
The banner of a Saviour-God.

"Piercing the soft complying moss, Securely stands your mocking cross; And forward wends your pious tread, By avarice goaded, strumpet-led. Forward! your church hath blessed the strife, Your arms are primed, and gold is rife

A monarch feeds your craving eyes
With glittering ore, and gems of price:
Grasp at your will the tempting store,
Persuasive guns shall plead for more.
Forward! the young blade never bent
Beneath a mounted armament;
The fools combine, in erring plan,
Each noble beast with ruffian man,
And judge artillery's thunder given
From the dark cloud that wraps their heaven.
Then, while the awe-struck tribes discern
These monster-gods in mission zeal,
Your righteous creed they quickly learn,
Baptized in blood, and shrived with steel.
Forward! some million harmless lives
Must dew your consecrated knives:
Shout, while ye drive the weapon home,
'The gold for Spain! the gore for Rome!'"

"Blasphemer, cease!"-" Indulge the mood,
For I am born of stubborn blood:
My sires, who yon bright banner bore,
Would none of Rome's pacific lore:
They knew not Quiabislan's league,
Nor Zempoalla's dark intrigue;
Nor, like the Tlascalan, unbound,
With rending hand, their country's wound:
Descending from a regal throne,

They made the empire's cause their own;
They towered amid the battle swell,
And bravely fought, and freely fell.
Victims for Gautimozin's sake,

What time he spread his galley's wing,
And launched upon the fatal lake,

That murmured round her captive king,
Tradition tells the crimson stain

On yonder shield was drawn from Spain;
And vengeance whispers, Now renew
With kindred dye its faded hue.'

"Here dwell the very gods who led Your fathers to the western shore, Sustaining their infuriate tread,

Through leagured hosts and seas of gore. Those golden gods, so safely stored In guise of pillar, couch, and board; These flagons, where the deep-set rim Of sparkling rubies crowns the brim; For these they dared the battle plain, For these ye plough the briny main; Such faith your pious deeds rehearse, Your deities, your spoil, your curse."

"And meet it is your yellow ore Should swell the Christian's sacred store; From unbelievers rent by Heaven, And to its saints in guerdon given."

From Albert's lips an answer came,
In accent stern he uttered," Shame!
The Lord will that foul charge disown;
Dishonour not the sacred name

By which the Christian band are known. He who the mild commandment gave,

'Love ye the strangers,' loved them well; He came not to destroy but save,

Mercy to teach, and rage to quell.
He came to heal, He came to bind
The broken heart, and wounded mind.
He licensed not the ruthless sword,
He values not the glittering hoard;
Who e'er shall base allegiance owe
To mammon is Jehovah's foe.

Peace is His word, His banner love,
His work the stony heart to move;
His mercy, boundless, endless, free,
Gondolph, may even reach to thee:
To thee His grace can yet display
The fount, the purifying flood,
And from thy spirit roll away

That fearful spot-the guilt of blood."
On Albert's shoulder Izram pressed

A gentle hand-" My brother cease: Beam not upon his gloomy breast

The words of tenderness and peace. Sealed by his crimes, that eye is dim; Preach to the rocks, but not to him." "Dear Izram, do not bar my word"With proud derision Gondolph heard, And laughed "Dear Izram'-' brother'.

see

How well may infidels agree!
The heretic, whose sturdy breed
Is famed for many a daring deed,
The English mastiff, meet to chase
A herd of Mexico's faint race,-
Let but our holy faith appear,

Scourge of the unbelieving mind,
And straight we view the dog and deer
In goodly fellowship combined.

Briton, what mak'st thou here the while?
Some envoy from the upstart isle,
Sent to explore this wondrous show,
Balance the peril 'gainst the bribe,-

And surely ye were worthier foe

To cope with than this woman tribe.

Slaves! 'neath the conquering bands of Spain,
When havoc's glorious day begun,
Their armies darkened hill and plain,

And millions were opposed to one :
Crouching before a warrior's frown,

The trembling dastards lay in shoals;
Our weary chargers trod them down,

And trampled out their worthless souls.
Cortez had won a nobler fame,
Had fate provided bolder game."

By the rude taunt to madness stung, Izram with brandished dagger sprung; On high the flashing weapon shone"To Cortez and the fiends begone!" Ere on the scowling foe he closed, Albert his fierce career opposed. "Izram, forbear; as thou would'st plead For mercy in thy dearest need, Slay not a soul."-" Now on thy life, Unloose thy hold, or dread the knife!" Foaming, he writhed, in wild disdain, Beneath that nervous grasp; in vain. Borne back a space by Albert's hand, He rallied to a desperate stand: With arm aloft, and breast to breast,

Each in the grapple firmly stood; One movement-Izram's snowy vest Is dark with Albert's blood.

Forth rushed the band: tumultuous swell
Discordant tones through vault and cell;
Relaxed was Albert's straining grasp,
Yet do his fingers faintly clasp

The falling wrist :-to distance thrown,
Rings the keen dirk upon the stone.
Round Gondolph swords and daggers shine,
But Izram bars the stern design.
"Go, to the inner dungeon-grot
Bear him away, but harm him not:
A deeper vengeance yet shall drain
The pois'nous tide from every vein.”
Beneath his comrade's drooping weight
Oppressed, he bends the trembling knee,
And groans.
"Oh, wretch accursed by fate!
My brother, have I murdered thee?"
Albert's faint smile consoling broke-
"Haste, strip the arm, explore the wound:"
A channel, rived by slanting stroke,

Was swiftly closed, and smoothly bound, And, on his lip the cordial poured,

He breathed to life and sense restored.

Wavers the chief, but who shall chain
The vengeance of his princely train?
Or who, should Gondolph 'scape, defend
The remnant of their scattered line,
From raging avarice, prompt to rend

The treasure from the secret mine?
"Thou heard'st me tell of many a hoard,
By foreign tyrant ne'er explored;
Tortures would rack, and flames devour,
While lust surmised one hidden store :
Thou would'st not crush my race, to save
This felon from a well-earned grave?"

While pondering yet, they hear the throng Of hurried footsteps wend along: The Mexicans in wrath surround A comrade, pale, disarmed, and bound. Few words the angry charge explain"Gondolph by Nepuel's dirk is slain." "I slew him not: let Izram hear, From justice I have nought to fear. Few moons have waned, since in a strife Almarez Gondolph saved my life From one of his own band: he gave Chastisement to the vaunting slave, And pardoned me; yet claimed a meed, And swore me at his hour of need, To succour him in turn: he came, A captive, doomed to die in shame. Pacing on guard before his cell, He saw me, and remembered well. He sought the boon, but had it led To flight or treason, ne'er had sped. Yielding, although I might not slay, I gave my dirk, and turned away: There lies the tyrant, grim in death, Leaving my fate to Izram's breath."

Scarce on the ear his step could die,
A mantled figure, hovering nigh,
Deliberate trod, and seemed to peer
Irresolute amid the shade :
Albert-the Christian knows no fear-

Calmly the towering form surveyed,
And rising, with unruffled brow,

The challenge gave-" Say, what art thou?" "Peace, Briton; hear, but answer not:

I know thee; thou art firm and brave; Brief be my speech-a darksome blot Of treason taints this fatal cave. That royal youth,-thou lov'st him well,Speed him away, and time shall tell I counselled wisely let him go, My hand shall crush the darkling foe. Izram, secure in fancied power, Would fire the train ere ripe the hour. Bold boy! how wide that soul sublime Had flourished in a kindlier clime! Nurtured like fawn to lady dear,

He dreamed not of the savage chase, Nor trembled when that note of fear Was borne amid his cowering race,

sight:

Justice hath sternly claimed her right. I censure, but the deed forgiveConfirm it friends, and bid him live."

Dispersed the train; yet lingered nigh A chief, who looked on Izram's eye. "How likest thou Nepuel's tale? what meed, Save treason, could the Spaniard seek From such as he? a fouler deed Was pondered: it hath tongue to speak A bond in treachery alliedInfection may be spreading wide: Some brows are glooming here: I would Our step were free beyond the flood." He parted, and to Albert's ear Izram revealed his comrade's fear.

"What meant he by the flood?"-" The wave That rolls around this island cave."

His sportive step to grace their den, Curious their reeking fangs to view, Displayed his harmless pearls again, And tossed his budding antlers wide, In the free play of fearless pride. Thou seest in him a portrait fair Of Aztlan's hero-kings that were. Swells in his veins the current bold Of many a monarch, famed of old; Caziques, who battled, conquered, fell, Spurning the chain: in memory's cell He stores their deeds, with tales that dye The page of eastern chivalry: Thanks to the self-deluding foe, Who taught his martial fire to glow. Thus trained, he decks a dastard crew In his own spirit's ardent hue; And loth were I to break the charm, Till he be safe from treach'rous harm.

Izram arose, but lingered still-
"Albert, I would thy race could reign,
Careering over every hill,

And ruling every fertile plain :
We are too weak, too frail, too few,
To plant our ancient palm anew:
To them I'd ope the secret mine,
And blythe my shadowy throne resign."
Albert in sadness smiled-" Alas!

Before thy gold's destructive gleam,
The virtues of our race would pass,
Like frost before the fervid beam:
Look to the neighbouring isles, and scan
The boasted righteousness of man—
These western isles-their very name
Should burn a Briton's cheek with shame-
'Trust not in man,' the Lord hath spoke;
And there, beneath the hideous yoke,
Mid groans and blood on every side,
'Trust not in man,' is echoed wide.
Still rolls the yell of agony
Unanswered through the listening sky;
Nor yet displays requiting time
A scourge for Britain's impious crime;
Nor heaven-commissioned whirlwinds sweep
That noisome plague to ocean's deep.
But days of reckoning wrath shall come,
To hurl the bolt of vengeance home,
If mercy o'er the billowy sea,
Still vainly pour the warning plea."
Izram the cup in silence brought

His brow was stamped with solemn thought;
And Albert said, "I needs must gain

One boon from thee: when passed the tide, Wilt thou, like faithful nurse, remain,

Nor yield thy charge to other guide ?” "Forsake thee? no-though limb from limb Were rent, I would abide by him Who saved me, doubly saved, and bled”"Enough, my friend - the draught was

sweet:

Now let me pray, ere sense be dead;
And when in waking hours we meet,
Methinks I shall be strong, and free
To tread the greenwood sward with thee."

CANTO III.

THERE comes a sound of waters dashing, A voice from nature's midnight tomb; And fast the silvery foam is flashing,

In flakes of light athwart the gloom; The vampire bat his circuit wheels,

Gliding amid the thorny brake;

And where the poisonous gum congeals, The bloated toad from covert steals,

Rousing the torpid snake.

Nor aloe waves, nor towering palm,
No shrub distils the odorous balm;
But slimy venoms, trickling slow

From clasping vines, bedew the moss;
Where aconite and hemlock grow,
And dank festoons, depending low,

The ocotochtli's pathway cross. No gales of heaven, but vapours damp, Heavily through the dark trees breathe, And curling round the sullen swamp,

Their noxious eddies wreathe. Hurled from a rock's black beetling brow, The fretful waters spin below: Deep, deep beneath the trembling ground, Giddily flies the whirlpool round; Nought but the light spray foaming high Again beholds the cheerful sky; Entombed within some caverned cell, They roar a hollow, stern farewell.

Close on the verge of that buried tide, With cautious step two figures glide: Low tones of shuddering horror thrill—

"This is no haunt for living men; Sepulchral damps my spirit chill, And nature faints, as powers of ill

Presided o'er this murky glen." "Yes, I have led thee where the breath Of all that moves is fraught with death; Where adders thrive, and poisons wave, And rudely gapes the frowning grave. When tardy morn shall glimmer here, I'll show thee wilder forms of fear; Aye, show thee in how small a span May cluster every curse, but man, The master-curse: now strain thy sight, Pierce the foul mist, and mark the sky, A moment see the fitful light

Flashing its blood-red column high: Volcanic fires: 'tis sweet to gaze At midnight on their lurid blaze, And here from sullen slumber rouse The tribes of death's dark treasure-house. Thou'lt chide me now"-" I'll rather weep, Powerless to heal."-" But prompt to soothe, Thou voice of hope, and soul of truth! Mark those cold waves with rapid sweep, In darkness born, to darkness leap, Yet glimmer as they go, in light That half illumes this dreary night. Hurried like them in shrouding gloom, From rayless birth to joyless doom, If Izram's soul one moment shine In its fell course, that gleam is thine. Yet wherefore link thy fate to one By Heaven disowned, by man undone?