Poems and Plays By William Hayley ... in Six Volumes. A New Edition |
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| I. |
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| III. | CANTO III. |
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| XXI. |
| XXXIII. |
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 | Poems and Plays |  |
103
CANTO III.
O cureless malady! Oh fatal pest!Embrac'd with ardour and with pride carest;
Thou common vice, thou most contagious ill,
Bane of the mind, and frenzy of the will!
Thou foe to private and to public health;
Thou dropsy of the soul, that thirsts for wealth,
Insatiate Avarice!—'tis from thee we trace
The various misery of our mortal race.
[OMITTED]
104
The steady pikemen of the savage band,
Waiting our hasty charge, in order stand;
But when th' advancing Spaniard aim'd his stroke,
Their ranks, to form a hollow square, they broke;
An easy passage to our troop they leave,
And deep within their lines their foes receive;
Their files resuming then the ground they gave,
Bury the Christians in that closing grave.
Waiting our hasty charge, in order stand;
But when th' advancing Spaniard aim'd his stroke,
Their ranks, to form a hollow square, they broke;
An easy passage to our troop they leave,
And deep within their lines their foes receive;
Their files resuming then the ground they gave,
Bury the Christians in that closing grave.
105
As the keen Crocodile, who loves to lay
His silent ambush for his finny prey,
Hearing the scaly tribe with sportive sound
Advance, and cast a muddy darkness round,
Opens his mighty mouth, with caution, wide,
And, when th' unwary fish within it glide,
Closing with eager haste his hollow jaw,
Thus satiates with their lives his rav'nous maw:
So, in their toils, without one warning thought,
The murd'rous foe our little squadron caught
With quick destruction, in a fatal strife,
From whence no Christian soldier 'scap'd with life.
[OMITTED]
His silent ambush for his finny prey,
Hearing the scaly tribe with sportive sound
Advance, and cast a muddy darkness round,
Opens his mighty mouth, with caution, wide,
And, when th' unwary fish within it glide,
Closing with eager haste his hollow jaw,
Thus satiates with their lives his rav'nous maw:
So, in their toils, without one warning thought,
The murd'rous foe our little squadron caught
With quick destruction, in a fatal strife,
From whence no Christian soldier 'scap'd with life.
The hostile sword, now deeply dy'd in blood,
Drench'd the wide field with many a sanguine flood;
Courage still grows to form the fierce attack,
But wasted vigour makes the combat slack:
No pause they seek, to gain exhausted breath,
No rest, except the final rest of death:
The wariest combatants now only try
To snatch the sweets of vengeance ere they die.
Drench'd the wide field with many a sanguine flood;
Courage still grows to form the fierce attack,
But wasted vigour makes the combat slack:
No pause they seek, to gain exhausted breath,
No rest, except the final rest of death:
The wariest combatants now only try
To snatch the sweets of vengeance ere they die.
106
The fierce disdain of death, and scorn of flight,
Give to our scanty troop such wond'rous might,
The Araucanian host begin to yield;
They quit with loss and shame the long-fought field:
They fly; and their pursuers shake the plain
With joyous shouts of Victory and Spain.
But dire mischance, and Fate's resistless sway,
Gave a strange issue to the dreadful day.
Give to our scanty troop such wond'rous might,
The Araucanian host begin to yield;
They quit with loss and shame the long-fought field:
They fly; and their pursuers shake the plain
With joyous shouts of Victory and Spain.
But dire mischance, and Fate's resistless sway,
Gave a strange issue to the dreadful day.
An Indian Youth, a noble Chieftain's son,
Who as our friend his martial feats begun,
Our Leader's Page, by him to battle train'd,
Who now beside him the hard fight sustain'd,
As he beheld his kindred Chiefs retire,
Felt an indignant flash of Patriot fire;
And thus incited to a glorious stand
The flying champions of his native land:
Who as our friend his martial feats begun,
Our Leader's Page, by him to battle train'd,
Who now beside him the hard fight sustain'd,
As he beheld his kindred Chiefs retire,
Felt an indignant flash of Patriot fire;
And thus incited to a glorious stand
The flying champions of his native land:
Misguided Country! by vain fear possest,
Ah whither dost thou turn thy timid breast?
Ye brave compatriots, shall your ancient fame
Be vilely buried in this field of shame?
Those laws, those rights, ye gloried to defend,
All perish, all, by this ignoble end!
From Chiefs of dreaded power, and honour'd worth,
Ye sink to abject slaves, the scorn of earth!
To the pure founders of your boasted race
Ye give the cureless wound of deep disgrace!
Behold the wasted vigour of your foe!
See, bath'd in sweat and blood, their coursers blow!
Lose not your mental force, your martial fires,
Our best inheritance from generous fires;
Sink not the noble Araucanian name
From glory's summit to the depths of shame;
Fly, fly the servitude your souls detest!
To the keen sword oppose the dauntless breast.
Why shew ye frames endued with manly power,
Yet shrink from danger in the trying hour?
Fix in your minds the friendly truth I speak;
Vain are your fears, your terror blind and weak:
Now make your names immortal; now restore
Freedom's lost blessings to your native shore:
Now turn, while Fame and Victory invite,
While prosp'rous Fortune calls you to the fight;
Or yet a moment cease, O cease to fly,
And for our country learn of me to die!
Ah whither dost thou turn thy timid breast?
Ye brave compatriots, shall your ancient fame
Be vilely buried in this field of shame?
Those laws, those rights, ye gloried to defend,
All perish, all, by this ignoble end!
From Chiefs of dreaded power, and honour'd worth,
Ye sink to abject slaves, the scorn of earth!
To the pure founders of your boasted race
Ye give the cureless wound of deep disgrace!
107
See, bath'd in sweat and blood, their coursers blow!
Lose not your mental force, your martial fires,
Our best inheritance from generous fires;
Sink not the noble Araucanian name
From glory's summit to the depths of shame;
Fly, fly the servitude your souls detest!
To the keen sword oppose the dauntless breast.
Why shew ye frames endued with manly power,
Yet shrink from danger in the trying hour?
Fix in your minds the friendly truth I speak;
Vain are your fears, your terror blind and weak:
Now make your names immortal; now restore
Freedom's lost blessings to your native shore:
Now turn, while Fame and Victory invite,
While prosp'rous Fortune calls you to the fight;
Or yet a moment cease, O cease to fly,
And for our country learn of me to die!
As thus he speaks, his eager steps advance,
And 'gainst the Spanish Chief he points his lance;
To lead his kindred fugitives from flight,
Singly he dares to tempt th' unequal fight:
Against our circling arms, that round him shine,
Eager he darts amidst the thickest line,
Keen as, when chaf'd by summer's fiery beam,
The young Stag plunges in the cooling stream.
[OMITTED]
And 'gainst the Spanish Chief he points his lance;
To lead his kindred fugitives from flight,
Singly he dares to tempt th' unequal fight:
Against our circling arms, that round him shine,
Eager he darts amidst the thickest line,
Keen as, when chaf'd by summer's fiery beam,
The young Stag plunges in the cooling stream.
108
Or match this young Barbarian's noble deed?
Vict'ry for them, her purpose unexplor'd,
Tempted by equal chance their happy sword:
What risk, what peril, did they boldly meet,
Save where Ambition urg'd the splendid feat;
Or mightier Int'rest fir'd the daring mind,
Which makes a Hero of the fearful Hind?
Many there are who with a brave disdain
Face all the perils of the deathful plain,
Who, fir'd by hopes of glory, nobly dare,
Yet fail the stroke of adverse chance to bear;
With animated fire their spirit shines,
Till the short splendor of their day declines;
But all their valour, all their strength expires,
When fickle Fortune from their side retires.
This youthful Hero, when the die was cast,
War's dire decree against his country past,
109
And finally reverse the cruel doom:
He, by his efforts in the dread debate,
Forc'd the determin'd will of adverse Fate;
From shouting Triumph rush'd the palm to tear,
And fix'd it on the brow of faint Despair.
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