More for mankind at this unhappy day
Than all the pride of intellect and thought?

AND is it among rude untutor❜d Dales,
There, and there only, that the heart is true?
And, rising to repel or to subdue,

Is it by rocks and woods that man prevails?
Ah no! though Nature's dread protection fails,
There is a bulwark in the soul. This knew
Iberian Burghers when the sword they drew
In Zaragoza, naked to the gales

Of fiercely-breathing war. The truth was felt
By Palafox, and many a brave compeer,
Like him of noble birth and noble mind;
By ladies, meek-eyed women without fear;
And wanderers of the street, to whom is dealt
The bread which without industry they find.

O'ER the wide Earth, on mountain and on plain,
Dwells in th' affections and the soul of man
A Godhead, like the universal PAN;
But more exalted, with a brighter train:
And shall his bounty be dispensed in vain,
Shower'd equally on city and on field,
And neither hope nor steadfast promise yield
In these usurping times of fear and pain?
Such doom awaits us. Nay, forbid it Heaven!
We know the arduous strife, th' eternal laws
To which the triumph of all good is given,
High sacrifice, and labour without pause,
Even to the death:-else wherefore should the eye
Of man converse with immortality?

ON THE FINAL SUBMISSION OF THE TYROLESE.

It was a moral end for which they fought;
Else how, when mighty Thrones were put to shame,
Could they, poor Shepherds, have preserved an aim,
A resolution, or enlivening thought?

Nor hath that moral good been vainly sought;
For in their magnanimity and fame

Powers have they left, an impulse, and a claim
Which neither can be overturn'd nor bought.
Sleep, Warriors, sleep! among your hills repose!
We know that ye, beneath the stern control
Of awful prudence, keep th' unvanquish'd soul:

And when, impatient of her guilt and woes,
Europe breaks forth; then, Shepherds! shall ye rise
For perfect triumph o'er your Enemies.

HAIL, Zaragoza! If with unwet eye
We can approach, thy sorrow to behold,
Yet is the heart not pitiless nor cold;
Such spectacle demands not tear or sigh.
These desolate remains are trophies high
Of more than martial courage in the breast
Of peaceful civic virtue: they attest
Thy matchless worth to all posterity.
Blood flow'd before thy sight without remorse;
Disease consumed thy vitals; War upheaved
The ground beneath thee with volcanic force:
Dread trials! yet encounter'd and sustain'd
Till not a wreck of help or hope remain'd,
And law was from necessity received.*

SAY, what is Honour? - "Tis the finest sense
Of justice which the human mind can frame,
Intent each lurking frailty to disclaim,
And guard the way of life from all offence
Suffer'd or done. When lawless violence
Invades a Realm, so press'd that in the scale
Of perilous war her weightiest armies fail,
Honour is hopeful elevation, whence
Glory, and triumph. Yet with politic skill
Endanger'd States may yield to terms unjust;
Stoop their proud heads, but not unto the dust,
A Foe's most favourite purpose to fulfil:
Happy occasions oft by self-mistrust
Are forfeited; but infamy doth kill.

THE martial courage of a day is vain,

An empty noise of death the battle's roar,

4 The siege of Saragossa was one of the most memorable passages in the dreadful wars of those times. Here, again, men, women, and children worked together day and night in defence of their altars and their homes. Week after week, month after month, they held out against the French: there was a large army of besiegers; many assaults were made, still the place was not carried: to the common horrors of war was added a plague that swept off many thousands. After the wails were battered down, the Spaniards still fought their ground inch by inch: and at one stage of the contest the dead and dying lay heaped on each other to the depth of several feet; but, mounting the ghastly pile, the foemen still kept up the fight for hours together; and repeatedly, while they were fast locked in the struggle, the whole, dead, dying, and combatants, were blown into the air together by the explosion of mines beneath. And, after all, it was the pestilence, not the arms of the French, that induced a capitulation and surrender.

If vital hope be wanting to restore,
Or fortitude be wanting to sustain,

Armies or kingdoms. We have heard a strain
Of triumph, how the labouring Danube bore
A weight of hostile corses: drench'd with gore
Were the wide fields, the hamlets heap'd with slain.
Yet see, (the mighty tumult overpast,)
Austria a Daughter of her Throne hath sold!
And her Tyrolean Champion we behold
Murder'd, like one ashore by shipwreck cast,
Murder'd without relief. O, blind as bold,
To think that such assurance can stand fast!

BRAVE Schill! by death deliver'd, take thy flight
From Prussia's timid region." Go, and rest
With heroes, 'mid the islands of the Blest,
Or in the fields of empyrean light.

A meteor wert thou crossing a dark night:
Yet shall thy name, conspicuous and sublime,
Stand in the spacious firmament of time,
Fix'd as a star: such glory is thy right.
Alas! it may not be; for earthly fame

Is Fortune's frail dependant: yet there lives
A Judge, who, as man claims by merit, gives;
To whose all-pondering mind a noble aim,
Faithfully kept, is as a noble deed;

In whose pure sight all virtue doth succeed.

LOOK now on that Adventurer who hath paid
His vows to Fortune; who, in cruel slight
Of virtuous hope, of liberty, and right,
Hath follow'd wheresoe'er a way was made
By the blind Goddess, ruthless, undismay'd;
And so hath gain'd at length a prosperous height,
Round which the elements of worldly might
Beneath his haughty feet, like clouds, are laid.
O, joyless power that stands by lawless force!

5 The gentle and heroic Hoffer was at last betrayed, captured, and brought to a court-martial; and Napoleon, on learning that the court would not convict him, sent a peremptory order for him to be put to death within twenty-four hours. A most mean and execrable murder!

6 Schill was a Prussian colonel, and something of a poet withal, whose patriotic songs did much to rekindle the old national spirit in his countrymen. While Napoleon was holding Prussia under his feet year after year, and was fleecing, skinning, and plucking her to the very bone, he gathered a band of patriots about him, and in 1809 prematurely headed an insurrection against the oppressors. A French army being sent against him, he took refuge in Straslund. There he was besieged, and the result was yet doubtful, when he was killed, and his heroic band, left without a leader, soon dispersed.

Curses are his dire portion, scorn, and hate,
Internal darkness and unquiet breath;

And, if old judgments keep their sacred course,
Him from that height shall Heaven precipitate
By violent and ignominious death.

1810.

АH! where is Palafox? Nor tongue nor pen
Reports of him, his dwelling or his grave!
Does yet th' unheard-of vessel ride the wave?
Or is she swallow'd up, remote from ken
Of pitying human-nature? Once again
Methinks that we shall hail thee, Champion brave,
Redeem'd to baffle that imperial Slave,

And through all Europe cheer desponding men
With new-born hope. Unbounded is the might
Of martyrdom, and fortitude, and right.
Hark, how thy Country triumphs! - Smilingly
Th' Eternal looks upon her sword that gleams,
Like His own lightning, over mountains high,
On rampart, and the banks of all her streams.

INDIGNATION OF A HIGH-MINDED SPANIARD. 1810.
WE can endure that He should waste our lands,
Despoil our temples, and by sword and flame
Return us to the dust from which we came;
Such food a Tyrant's appetite demands:
And we can brook the thought that by his hands
Spain may be overpower'd, and he possess,
For his delight, a solemn wilderness

Where all the brave lie dead. But, when of bands
Which he will break for us he dares to speak,

Of benefits, and of a future day

When our enlighten'd minds shall bless his sway;
Then, the strain'd heart of fortitude proves weak;
Our groans, our blushes, our pale cheeks declare

That he has power to inflict what we lack strength to bear.

7 Don Joseph Palafox was a Spanish nobleman, and one of the few men in his class who were then a credit to it. He held the chief command in Saragossa during the siege of that place; at the time of the surrender he was sick almost unto death; and as soon as he was able to travel he was conducted a close prisoner into France, and there lost sight of. Jones, in his Sieges of the Peninsula, says that, "while heroic self-devotion, unshaken loyalty, and exalted patriotism are held in estimation among mankind, the name of Palafox, blended with that of Saragossa, will be immortal. 8 While Napoleon was holding Spain by the throat, and harrowing her people with all the calamities of a war treacherously begun and madly prosecuted, he still tried to conciliate them with promises of freedom and enlightenment, and a good time generally.

AVAUNT all specious pliancy of mind
In men of low degree, all smooth pretence!
I better like a blunt indifference,

And self-respecting slowness, disinclined
To win me at first sight: and be there join'd
Patience and temperance with this high reserve,
Honour that knows the path and will not swerve;
Affections, which, if put to proof, are kind;
And piety towards God. Such men of old

Were England's native growth; and, throughout Spain,
(Thanks to high God!) forests of such remain:
Then for that Country let our hopes be bold;
For match'd with these shall policy prove vain,
Her arts, her strength, her iron, and her gold.

1810.

O'ERWEENING Statesmen have full long relied
On fleets and armies, and external wealth:
But from within proceeds a Nation's health;
Which shall not fail, though poor men cleave with pride
To the paternal floor; or turn aside,

In the throng'd city, from the walks of gain,
As being all unworthy to detain

A Soul by contemplation sanctified.

There are who cannot languish in this strife, -
Spaniards of every rank, by whom the good
Of such high course was felt and understood;
Who to their Country's cause have bound a life
Erewhile, by solemn consecration, given

To labour and to prayer, to Nature and to Heaven.
1811.

THE power of Armies is a visible thing,

Formal, and circumscribed in time and space;
But who the limits of that power shall trace
Which a brave People into light can bring
Or hide, at will, for freedom combating
By just revenge inflamed? No foot may chase,
No eye can follow, to a fatal place

That power, that spirit, whether on the wing
Like the strong wind, or sleeping like the wind
Within its awful caves.- From year to year
Springs this indigenous produce far and near;
No craft this subtle element can bind,
Rising like water from the soil, to find
In every nook a lip that it may cheer.