University of Virginia Library


42

THE DESERTER.

By others blest with genius' rays
Let noble acts be told,
While I, content with humbler praise,
A simple tale unfold:
The Spaniard left the hostile plain,
To seek his native land,
Beneath the sails that swept the main,
Cabeysa join'd the band:
Who, as he met his country's foes
Within the field of Fame,
Above his rank obscure arose,
And grac'd his humble name:

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Yet not the early wreath of Fame
With haughtiness was twin'd:
Nor pride nor fickleness could claim
The empire of his mind:
The lowly hut, beneath whose roof
He sigh'd a sad adieu,
Receiv'd him (time and distance-proof)
To Love and Laura true:
This hamlet-fair, by Fortune scorn'd,
Seem'd Nature's fav'rite child,
With hand profuse by her adorn'd
—The flowret of the wild!
Her neat but homely garments press'd
The pure, the feeling heart,
Oft sought in vain behind the vest
Of decorated art:

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“If sharing all thy cares (she said)
“Has paled my beauty's rose,
“Ah! know, for thee the heart that bled,
“With all its passion glows:
“Blest moment, to my wish that gives
“The long long absent youth!
“He lives—th' endear'd Cabeysa lives,
“And Love confirms the truth.
“When thy brave comrades fell around,
“What Pow'r's benignant care
“Secur'd thee from the fatal wound,
“And Laura from despair?
“Oft in the troubling dream of night
“I saw the rushing spear;
“Nor did the Morn's awak'ning light
“Dispel the ling'ring fear.”

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“Thy tender fears (the youth replied)
“Ah give them to the air!
“To happiness we're now allied,
“And pleasure be our care:
“Let us pursue the joy begun,
“Nor lose by dull delay:
“Say, Laura, shall to-morrow's sun
“Illume our nuptial day?”
With look declin'd she blush'd consent—
Reserve that takes alarm,
And Love and Joy their influence lent
To raise meek Beauty's charm.
The guests, to hail the wedded pair,
Beneath their roof repair'd;
With them the little feast to share
Their scanty purse prepar'd:

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Tho' no delicious wines were pour'd,
Mirth took his destin'd place,
The handmaid Neatness spread the board,
And sage Content said grace.
Scarce thro' one hasty week had Love
His grateful blessings shed,
When bliss (as flies the frighted dove)
Their humble mansion fled:
'Twas at Bellona's voice it flew,
That call'd to War's alarms:
Bad the youth rise, to valor true,
And break from Laura's arms:
But she still strain'd him to her heart,
To lengthen the adieu:
“Ah what, (she said) should'st thou depart,
“Shall I and Sorrow do?

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“Say, valiant youth, when thou'rt away
“Who'll raise my drooping head?
“How shall I chase the fears that say
“Thy lov'd Cabeysa's dead?
“With thine my fate I now involve,
“Intent thy course to steer;
“No words shall shake my firm resolve,
“Not e'en that trickling tear.”
“Fram'd for each scene of soft delight,
“(He said) thy gentle form,
“As shrinks the lily at the blight,
“Will droop beneath the storm.”
“Blest in thy presence! ev'ry pain
“(She added) brings its charm,
“And Love, tho' falls the beating rain,
“Will keep this bosom warm.”

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E'en as the wall-flow'r rears its head,
'Mid ruins, wrecks, and tombs,
So 'mid the woes around that spread,
True Love unconquer'd blooms.
Her zeal (the supplement of strength)
Upheld her many a day,
But Nature's pow'rs subdued at length,
On Sickness' couch she lay:
Three painful days unseen she lay
Of him she held so dear:
“Ah! does he thus my love repay?”
She said—and dropt a tear:
Cabeysa, at a league's remove,
“Dwells on the tent-spread hill:
“Ah! wherefore did he vow true love,
“And not that vow fulfil?”

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Yet not deficiency of truth
Forbad to yield relief,
Stern pow'r with-held the tender youth,
And duty to his chief:
Who, wisely counsel'd, drew a line
To check the hand of Stealth,
That ravag'd wide th' encircling vine,
The humble peasant's wealth:
To pass the line, it was ordain'd,
Whoever should presume,
Should a Deserter be arraign'd,
And meet the coward's doom.
This law, by Equity approv'd,
And to the peasant dear,
Soon to the brave Cabeysa prov'd
Destructively severe:

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Now Laura's image haunts his soul,
In Woe's dark tints array'd:
While to his breast Compassion stole,
And all her claims display'd:
“For me her native home, (he said)
“For me each weeping friend,
“For me a Father's arms she fled—
“And shall not Love attend?
“Say for a chosen lover's sake,
“What more cou'd woman do?
“And now that Health and Peace forsake,
“Shall I forsake her too?
“Now stretch'd upon the naked ground,
“Oppress'd with pain and fear,
“She casts a languid eye around,
“Nor sees Cabeysa near:

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“Now, now she weeps at my delay,
“And shall neglect be mine?
“Submit, ye fears, to Pity's sway:”
He spoke—and cross'd the line.
Soon at his sight the fair resum'd
Each captivating grace:
On her pale cheek the rose re-bloom'd,
And smiles illum'd her face.
Yet to that cheek return'd in vain
Bright Health's vermilion dye,
For bitter tears that cheek shall stain,
And dim her brilliant eye:
The youth returning thro' the gloom,
At Midnight's secret hour,
Was seiz'd—and to Dishonour's tomb
Doom'd by the martial pow'r.

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To meet his fate at wake of day
(Love's victim) he was led:
No weakness did his cheek betray,
While to the chief he said,
“If in the battle death I've dar'd,
“In all its horror drest,
“Think not this scene, by thee prepar'd,
“Sheds terror on my breast:
“Yet then at Laura's hapless fate,
“My fortitude impairs,
“Unmann'd I sink beneath the weight
“Of her oppressive cares:
“Ah! when her grief-torn heart shall bleed,
“Some little solace grant,
“Oh! guard her in the hour of need
“From the rude hand of Want!”

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Now, kneeling on the fatal spot,
He twin'd the dark'ning band:
The twelve, who drew th' unwelcome lot,
Reluctant took their stand:
And now the murm'ring throng grew dumb,
'Twas silence all—save where,
At intervals, the sullen drum
Struck horror on the ear:
Now, with their death-fraught tubes up-rear'd,
The destin'd twelve were seen—
And now th' explosion dire was heard
That clos'd Cabeysa's scene.
Another scene remain'd behind
For Laura to supply—
She comes! mark how her tortur'd mind
Speaks thro' th' expressive eye:

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“Forbear—will ye in blood (she said)
“Your cruel hands imbrue?
“On me, on me your vengeance shed,
“To me alone 'tis due:
“Relent—and to these arms again
“The valiant youth restore.
“I rave—already on the plain
“He welters in his gore.”
Advancing now, she pierc'd the crowd,
And reach'd the fatal place,
Where, listing from the corse the shroud,
No semblance could she trace.
“Is this—oh blasting view! (she cried)
“The youth who lov'd too well?
“His love for me the law defied,
“And for that love he fell!

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“When will the grave this form receive?—
“Prepare the mutual tomb;
“There, only there, I'll cease to grieve,
“There cease to curse my doom.”
Now, conquer'd by Affection's force,
Which broke her heart in twain,
She sunk upon the bleeding corse,
And never rose again.