Poems and Plays by Mr. Jerningham. In Four Volumes ... The Ninth Edition |
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GUATIMOZINO's SPEECH, AT THE PLACE OF INTERMENT. |
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GUATIMOZINO's SPEECH, AT THE PLACE OF INTERMENT.
[_]
The Mexicans having gained an advantage over the Spaniards, and having buried the troops (that were slain in the action) in a large field, Guatimozino, the emperor of Mexico, thus addresses the place of interment:
“Hail, sepulchre, which ev'ry coward shuns!
“Thou glorious hecatomb of Valour's sons!
“On thee, oh sacred altar of renown,
“Th' Eternal Being looks propitious down!
“They, they are dear to that all-seeing eye,
“Who greatly daring act, or bravely die.
“Let this suggestion sooth the bleeding heart,
“In which Despair has lodg'd his poison'd dart:
“To you I speak, ye fair afflicted train,
“Who weep for brothers, friends, and lovers slain:
“To you I speak, ye widows plung'd in care;
“And you whose sons stern fate refus'd to spare.”
“Thou glorious hecatomb of Valour's sons!
“On thee, oh sacred altar of renown,
“Th' Eternal Being looks propitious down!
“They, they are dear to that all-seeing eye,
“Who greatly daring act, or bravely die.
“Let this suggestion sooth the bleeding heart,
“In which Despair has lodg'd his poison'd dart:
“To you I speak, ye fair afflicted train,
“Who weep for brothers, friends, and lovers slain:
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“And you whose sons stern fate refus'd to spare.”
As thus he said—deep from some breast unknown
Burst unsubdued Affliction's piercing moan,
Now intermitting, now returning loud—
At length, advancing thro' the wond'ring crowd,
A matron-form th' attentive hero view'd,
Her robe neglected, and her tresses rude;
With hurried step the royal Youth she sought,
Her wild eye speaking th' inexpressive thought:
Close at her side a lovely boy appears—
Now through opposing grief her voice she rears:
“Give, give to me the virtue that repels
“The whelming surge of Sorrow as it swells!
“Two valiant sons, in age my comfort's store,
“My lov'd, my duteous children, are no more:
“This morn, this direful morn, a prey to fears,
“I bath'd our parting with presaging tears:
“That they expir'd on Honour's sacred bed,
“That their souls mingle with th' illustrious dead,
“Well do I know—and glory in the thought:
“Bright Virtue's flame, perchance, from me they caught,
“From me th' instructive lesson first they claim'd,
“This bosom nurtur'd, and this voice inflam'd.
“Yet ill with this vain pomp of splendid words
“My drooping, loaded, sinking heart accords:
“Ah! still to Glory's thought despair succeeds,
“And th' agonizing Mother inly bleeds.
“This orphan babe to you I now bequeath,
“With Honour's brightest flow'rs his mind inwreath.”
Burst unsubdued Affliction's piercing moan,
Now intermitting, now returning loud—
At length, advancing thro' the wond'ring crowd,
A matron-form th' attentive hero view'd,
Her robe neglected, and her tresses rude;
With hurried step the royal Youth she sought,
Her wild eye speaking th' inexpressive thought:
Close at her side a lovely boy appears—
Now through opposing grief her voice she rears:
“Give, give to me the virtue that repels
“The whelming surge of Sorrow as it swells!
“Two valiant sons, in age my comfort's store,
“My lov'd, my duteous children, are no more:
“This morn, this direful morn, a prey to fears,
“I bath'd our parting with presaging tears:
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“That their souls mingle with th' illustrious dead,
“Well do I know—and glory in the thought:
“Bright Virtue's flame, perchance, from me they caught,
“From me th' instructive lesson first they claim'd,
“This bosom nurtur'd, and this voice inflam'd.
“Yet ill with this vain pomp of splendid words
“My drooping, loaded, sinking heart accords:
“Ah! still to Glory's thought despair succeeds,
“And th' agonizing Mother inly bleeds.
“This orphan babe to you I now bequeath,
“With Honour's brightest flow'rs his mind inwreath.”
The child, half-conscious of the mother's grief,
As if attempting to dispense relief,
Stretch'd forth his little arms, and playful smil'd:
In vain the boy her scorpion thoughts beguil'd;
Inclining at his call her anguish'd face,
Death struck she perish'd in the wish'd embrace.
As if attempting to dispense relief,
Stretch'd forth his little arms, and playful smil'd:
In vain the boy her scorpion thoughts beguil'd;
Inclining at his call her anguish'd face,
Death struck she perish'd in the wish'd embrace.
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