Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Farewell, farewell, my ladye-love,
Bid me no longer stay;
My country with a thousand tongues,
Is calling me away.
Fierce is the invader's wrath, and bright
The lightning of his brand;
His breath pollutes the free, pure air,
His tread defiles the land.

Through Andalusia's peaceful vales,
By Xenil's silvery tide,
With prancing steeds, and bristling spears,
The banded foeman ride;
Far o'er the startled Vega sounds
A slow advancing hum,
While still from quivering lips is heard
The cry—“They come! they come!”

But fear not, warning fires each night,
Have lit the awakening hills,
And high resolve, each loyal heart,
With answering ardour fills;
Fear not; our standards from each tower,
Stream forth triumphantly,
Our gathering hosts o'erspread the plains,
Our gathering fleets, the sea.

The vow hath pass'd from lip to lip,
To conquer, or to die,

Swifter than cleaves the falcon's wing
The clear blue summer sky.
Then speed me, with thy own sweet voice,
To the lists of war and fame;—
To linger now would be to win
A scorn'd and branded name.

A branded name! forbid it heaven—
The holy saints forfend!
That on a son of Carpio's line
Such dark curse should descend!—
Thy warrior goes, belov'd, to find
Upon our soil a grave,
Or plant his country's battle-flag
Where hostile banners wave.

And now, farewell to that white hand—
Farewell to that fair brow—
To those deep tones of love, so like
A singing fountain's flow.

Such dulcet sounds must soon give place
To those with conflict rife—
The war-cry, and the trumpet blast,
The clang of coming strife.

Farewell, farewell, my ladye-love,
Bid me no longer wait;—
My sword is leaping in its sheath,
My steed neighs at the gate:
To horse! to horse! sound, clarions, sound!—
O'er mount, and stream, and plain—
Life to the noble and the free!
Death to the foes of Spain.