Classic Poem

Hark ! from the towers of Aztlan how the shouts
Of clamorous joy re-ring! the rocks and hills
Take up the joyful sound, and o'er the lake
Roll their slow echoes. — Thou art beautiful,
Queen of the Valley! thou art beautiful!
Thy walls, like silver, sparkle to the sun;
Melodious wave thy groves; thy garden-sweets
Enrich the pleasant air; upon the lake
Lie the long shadows of thy towers; and high
In heaven thy temple-pyramids arise,
Upon whose summit now, far visible
Against the clear blue sky, the Cross of Christ
Proclaims unto the nations round the news
Of thy redemption. Thou art beautiful,
Aztlan! O City of the Cymbric Prince!
Long mayst thou flourish in thy beauty, long
Prosper beneath the righteous conqueror,
Who conquers to redeem! Long years of peace
And happiness await thy Lord and thee,
Queen of the Valley!
Hither joyfully
The Hoamen came to repossess the land
Of their forefathers. Joyfully the youth
Come shouting, with acclaim of grateful praise,
Their great Deliverer's name; the old, in talk
Of other days, which mingled with their joy
Memory of many a hard calamity,
And thoughts of time and change, and human life
How changeful and how brief. Prince Madoc met
Erillyab at the gate. — Sister and Queen,
Said he, here let us hold united reign,
O'er our united people; by one faith,
One interest bound, and closer to be link'd
By laws, and language, and domestic ties,
Till both become one race, for evermore
Indissolubly knit.
O friend, she cried,
The last of all my family am I;
Yet sure, though last, the happiest, and by Heaven
Favored abundantly above them all.
Dear Friend, and Brother dear! enough for me
Beneath the shadow of thy shield to dwell,
And see my people, by thy fostering care,
Made worthy of their fortune. Graciously
Hath the Beloved One appointed all,
Educing good from ill, himself being good.
Then to the royal palace of the Kings
Of Aztlan, Madoc led Erillyab,
There where her sires had held their ruder reign,
To pass the happy remnant of her years,
Honor'd and loved by all.
Now had the Prince
Provided for defence, disposing all
As though a ready enemy approach'd.
But from Patamba yet no army moved:
Four Heralds only, by the King despatch'd,
Drew nigh the town. The Hoamen, as they came,
Knew the green mantle of their privilege,
The symbols which they bore, an arrow-point
Depress'd, a shield, a net, which, from the arm
Suspended, held their food. They through the gate
Pass with permitted entrance, and demand
To see the Ocean Prince. The Conqueror
Received them, and the elder thus began:
Thus to the White King, King Yuhidthiton
His bidding sends; such greeting as from foe
Foe may receive, where individual hate
Is none, but honor and assured esteem,
And what were friendship, did the Gods-permit,
The King of Aztlan sends. Oh, dream not thou
That Aztlan is subdued; nor in the pride
Of conquest tempt thy fortune! Unprepared
For battle, at an hour of festival,
Her children were surprised; and thou canst tell
How perilously they maintain'd the long
And doubtful strife. From yonder temple-mount
Look round the plain, and count her towns, and mark
Her countless villages, whose habitants
All are in arms against thee! Thinkest thou
To root them from the land? Or wouldst thou live,
Harass'd by night and day with endless war,
War at thy gates; and to thy children leave
That curse for their inheritance? — The land
Is all before thee: Go in peace, and choose
Thy dwelling-place, North, South, or East, or West;
Or mount again thy houses of the sea,
And search the waters. Whatsoe'er thy wants
Demand, will Aztlan willingly supply,
Prepared with friendly succor, to assist
Thy soon departure. Thus Yuhidthiton,
Remembering his old friendship, counsels thee;
Thus, as the King of Aztlan, for himself
And people, he commands. if obstinate,
If blind to your own welfare, ye persist,
Woe to ye, wretches! to the armed man,
Who in the fight must perish; to the wife,
Who vainly on her husband's aid will call;
Woe to the babe that hangs upon the breast;
For Aztlan comes in anger, and her Gods
Spare none.
The Conqueror calmly answer'd him —
By force we won your city, Azteca;
By force we will maintain it: — to the King
Repeat my saying. — To this goodly land
Your fathers came for an abiding-place,
Strangers, like us, but not, like us, in peace.
They conquer'd and destroyed. A tyrant race,
Bloody and faithless, to the hills they drove
The unoffending children of the vale,
And, day by day, in cruel sacrifice
Consumed them. God hath sent the Avengers here!
Powerful to save we come, and to destroy,
When Mercy on Destruction calls for aid.
Go tell your nation that we know their force,
That they know ours; that their Patamba soon
Shall fall like Aztlan; and what other towns
They seek in flight, shall like Patamba fall;
Till, broken in their strength and spirit-crush'd,
They bow the knee, or leave the land to us,
Its worthier Lords.
If this be thy reply,
Son of the Ocean! said the messenger,
I bid thee, in the King of Aztlan's name,
Mortal defiance. In the field of blood,
Before our multitudes shall trample down
Thy mad and miserable countrymen,
Yuhidthiton invites thee to the strife
Of equal danger. So may he avenge
Coanocotzin, or like him in death
Discharge his duty.
Tell Yuhidthiton,
Madoc replied, that in the field of blood
I never shunn'd a foe. But say thou to him,
I will not seek him there, against his life
To raise the hand which hath been join'd with
In peace. — With that the Heralds went their way,
Nor to the right nor to the left they turn,
But to Patamba straight they journey back.