Poems and Plays :: :: University of Virginia Library

What can redeem Lautaro's wounded name?
What plea preserve his failing arms from shame?
Did not my ardent soul this task demand,
Which now upbraids my unperforming hand?
On me, on me alone can censure fall;
Myself th' adviser and the guide of all.
Am I the Chief who, in Fame's bright career,
Ask'd to subdue the globe a single year?

While, at the head of this my glittering train,
I weakly threaten Spanish walls in vain,
Thrice has pale Cynthia, with replenish'd ray,
Seen my ill-order'd troop in loose array;
And the rich chariot of the blazing sun
Has from the Scorpion to Aquarius run.
At last, as fugitives these paths we tread,
And mourn twice fifty brave companions dead.
Could Fate's kind hand this hateful stain efface,
Could death redeem me from this worse disgrace,
My useless spear should pierce this abject heart,
Which has so ill sustain'd a soldier's part.
Unworthy thought! the mean, ignoble blow
Would only tempt my proud and vaunting foe
To boast that I preferr'd, in fear's alarm,
My own weak weapon to his stronger arm.

By Hell I swear, who rules the sanguine strife,
If Chance allow me yet a year of life,

131

I'll chase these foreign lords from Chile's strand,
And Spanish blood shall saturate our land.
No changing season, neither cold nor heat,
Shall make the firmer step of War retreat;
Nor shall the earth, nor hell's expanding cave,
From this avenging arm one Spaniard save.

Now the brave Chief, with solemnardour, swore
To his dear native home to turn no more;
From no fierce sun, no stormy winds to fly,
But patiently abide the varying sky,
And spurn all thoughts of pleasure and of ease,
Till rescu'd fame his tortur'd soul appease;
Till earth confess the brave Lautaro's hand
Has clos'd the glorious work his spirit plann'd.
In these resolves the Hero found relief,
And thus relax'd the o'erstrain'd cord of grief;
Whose pressure gall'd him with such mental pain,
That frenzy almost seiz'd his burning brain.