CANTO III .
Far , far on the pinions of fancy I strayed,
To a land where the Muses their bowers had made;
Where the harp of affection for ever is heard,
As it blends with the notes of the Paradise bird.
How swift was my flight to that region so fair,
No cloud dimmed the sunshine, no sorrow was there:
I looked on a flower which a dewdrop impearled;
Its leaves by the breath of a zephyr were curled.
A voice gently said, " wouldst thou bear it to Earth,
This amaranth blossom of Heavenly birth?
Then go, but remember, wherever thou art,
This innocent flower hath its home in the heart. "
I eagerly seized it: — on wings light and free
I hastened to bear it in beauty to thee.
Dear friend, it is thine; and wherever thou art,
May it bloom as it now does — fresh in thy heart.
O H ! man, by nature formed to reign
Lord of Creation's wide domain!
Why should ambition's mad control
The nobler feelings of thy soul
Hold captive — like a tyrant's chain?
Yes, thou the battle-field wouldst tread
In search of what? — A wreath of fame
To deck thy grave when thou art dead!
Kind reader, wouldst thou trace with me
Our hero's mournful destiny?
For truth demands I must unfold
A tale I fain would leave untold.
Hark! 'tis the fearful voice of war
Now calls Columbia's sons from far!
A Nation's wrongs for vengance call —
The haughty Mexican must fall.
That voice on Edward's ear hath broke,
And in his restless soul awoke
A stern resolve, whose strength and power
Grew firmer with each passing hour.
" 'Tis done, " he cries. " My home, farewell!
I go my country's foes to quell; —
And if the hand of fate hath sealed
My doom upon the battle-field,
I'll meet it with a spirit brave!
Yes, mine shall be the warrior's grave!
I dread — and yet I scarce know why —
To meet the glance of Lucy's eye;
She'll not reproach me, but her heart
Will writhe beneath the cruel smart
My words inflict; how can I bear
To see her look of mute despair?
My mother and my sister too —
Can I those sacred ties undo?
Ties that are dear as life to me!
Away these thoughts — it must not be:
No, no, they shall not rend my heart,
Or I would play the coward's part.
Now let my task be quickly done,
A task I would, but cannot shun;
This secret I must now reveal,
'Twere madness longer to conceal! "
Reader, if thou hast ever known
The pangs a parting moment brings;
If thou hast heard the last sad tone
Die on affection's broken strings —
Let fancy to thy mind convey
A scene no language can portray;
And if a tear should stain thy cheek,
Think not the world will deem thee weak.
Now dawns the morn — its cheerful light
But mocks the gloom of sorrow's night.
It brings no joy to those who weep —
The night had brought no gentle sleep:
They feel yet deeper than before,
That the last ray of hope is o'er.
There was no tear in Lucy's eye,
For grief, alas! that fount had sealed;
She spoke not, but a stifled sigh
The anguish of her heart revealed.
One fond embrace, one last farewell
From the pale lips of Isabel;
A mother's blessing on her child —
He heard, and though he faintly smiled,
'Twas forced: his heart was breaking then,
He felt they ne'er should meet again.
*****
Behold him where the dismal cry
Of strife and battle rend the sky;
And as the rival troops advance,
He marks his General's steady glance,
And feels that hero's eye of fire
With energy his soul inspire.
But see! he falls! a fatal blow
Hath in a moment laid him low.
He gasps! — the life-blood streaming fast
Tells that this struggle is his last.
Quick from the field his form they bore,
And all their comrade's fate deplore;
And o'er that youthful soldier's bier
E'en Taylor bent and dropped a tear.
But when the tidings reached his cot,
His gentle Lucy heard them not;
For she had passed from earth away,
And with his aged mother lay,
Beneath an oak tree's quiet shade,
Where once a happy child he played.
And Isabel alone was left —
Of every kindred tie bereft.
And oft her wandering thoughts would stray
To him who fell at Monterey;
Till death her spirit hushed to peace,
And bade the orphan's sorrows cease.
Far , far on the pinions of fancy I strayed,
To a land where the Muses their bowers had made;
Where the harp of affection for ever is heard,
As it blends with the notes of the Paradise bird.
How swift was my flight to that region so fair,
No cloud dimmed the sunshine, no sorrow was there:
I looked on a flower which a dewdrop impearled;
Its leaves by the breath of a zephyr were curled.
A voice gently said, " wouldst thou bear it to Earth,
This amaranth blossom of Heavenly birth?
Then go, but remember, wherever thou art,
This innocent flower hath its home in the heart. "
I eagerly seized it: — on wings light and free
I hastened to bear it in beauty to thee.
Dear friend, it is thine; and wherever thou art,
May it bloom as it now does — fresh in thy heart.
O H ! man, by nature formed to reign
Lord of Creation's wide domain!
Why should ambition's mad control
The nobler feelings of thy soul
Hold captive — like a tyrant's chain?
Yes, thou the battle-field wouldst tread
In search of what? — A wreath of fame
To deck thy grave when thou art dead!
Kind reader, wouldst thou trace with me
Our hero's mournful destiny?
For truth demands I must unfold
A tale I fain would leave untold.
Hark! 'tis the fearful voice of war
Now calls Columbia's sons from far!
A Nation's wrongs for vengance call —
The haughty Mexican must fall.
That voice on Edward's ear hath broke,
And in his restless soul awoke
A stern resolve, whose strength and power
Grew firmer with each passing hour.
" 'Tis done, " he cries. " My home, farewell!
I go my country's foes to quell; —
And if the hand of fate hath sealed
My doom upon the battle-field,
I'll meet it with a spirit brave!
Yes, mine shall be the warrior's grave!
I dread — and yet I scarce know why —
To meet the glance of Lucy's eye;
She'll not reproach me, but her heart
Will writhe beneath the cruel smart
My words inflict; how can I bear
To see her look of mute despair?
My mother and my sister too —
Can I those sacred ties undo?
Ties that are dear as life to me!
Away these thoughts — it must not be:
No, no, they shall not rend my heart,
Or I would play the coward's part.
Now let my task be quickly done,
A task I would, but cannot shun;
This secret I must now reveal,
'Twere madness longer to conceal! "
Reader, if thou hast ever known
The pangs a parting moment brings;
If thou hast heard the last sad tone
Die on affection's broken strings —
Let fancy to thy mind convey
A scene no language can portray;
And if a tear should stain thy cheek,
Think not the world will deem thee weak.
Now dawns the morn — its cheerful light
But mocks the gloom of sorrow's night.
It brings no joy to those who weep —
The night had brought no gentle sleep:
They feel yet deeper than before,
That the last ray of hope is o'er.
There was no tear in Lucy's eye,
For grief, alas! that fount had sealed;
She spoke not, but a stifled sigh
The anguish of her heart revealed.
One fond embrace, one last farewell
From the pale lips of Isabel;
A mother's blessing on her child —
He heard, and though he faintly smiled,
'Twas forced: his heart was breaking then,
He felt they ne'er should meet again.
*****
Behold him where the dismal cry
Of strife and battle rend the sky;
And as the rival troops advance,
He marks his General's steady glance,
And feels that hero's eye of fire
With energy his soul inspire.
But see! he falls! a fatal blow
Hath in a moment laid him low.
He gasps! — the life-blood streaming fast
Tells that this struggle is his last.
Quick from the field his form they bore,
And all their comrade's fate deplore;
And o'er that youthful soldier's bier
E'en Taylor bent and dropped a tear.
But when the tidings reached his cot,
His gentle Lucy heard them not;
For she had passed from earth away,
And with his aged mother lay,
Beneath an oak tree's quiet shade,
Where once a happy child he played.
And Isabel alone was left —
Of every kindred tie bereft.
And oft her wandering thoughts would stray
To him who fell at Monterey;
Till death her spirit hushed to peace,
And bade the orphan's sorrows cease.