There sits in parchment robe arrayed, and by His side is hung a seal and sable scroll, Where blazoned glare, names known to chivalry, And sundry signatures adorn the roll Where at the Urchin points and laughs with all his soul. XXV. CONVENTION is the dwarfish demon styled That foiled the knights in Marialva's dome : XXVI. And ever since that martial synod met, And folks in office at the mention fret, And fain would blush, if blush they could, for shame. How will posterity the deed proclaim! Will not our own and fellow-nations sneer, To view these champions cheated of their fame, By foes in fight o'erthrown, yet victors here, Where scorn her finger points, through many a coming year? XXVII. So deemed the Childe, as o'er the mountains he Sweet was the scene, yet soon he thought to flee, More restless than the swallow in the skies: For meditation fixed at times on him; And conscious reason whispered to despise His early youth, mispent in maddest whim; But as he gazed on truth his aching eyes grew dim. XXVIII. To horse! to horse! he quits, for ever quits But seeks not now the harlot and the bowl. Or he shall calm his breast, or learn experience sage. XXIX. Yet MAFRA shall one moment claim delay, 5 Where dwelt of yore the Lusian's luckless queen; And church and court did mingle their array. And mass and revel were alternate seen; Lordlings and freres-ill sorted fry I ween! XXX. O'er vales that teem with fruits, romantic hills, The toilsome way, and long, long league to trace, XXXI. More bleak to view the hills at length recede, Far as the eye discerns, without an end, Shain's realms appear whereon her shepherds tend Flocks, whose rich fleece right well the trader knows-- Now must the pastor's arm his lambs defend : For Spain is compassed by unyielding foes, And all must shield their all, or share subjection's woes. XXXII. Where Lusitania and her sister meet, Deem ye what bounds the rival realms divide? Or ere the jealous queens of nations greet, Doth Tay interpose his mighty tide? Or dark Sierras rise in craggy pride? Rise like the rocks that part Hispania's land, from Gaul. XXXIII. But these between a silver streamlet glides,. And scarce a name distinguisheth the brook, Though rival kingdoms press its verdant sides. I And vacant on the rippling waves doth look, Well doth the Spanish hind the difference know XXXIV. But ere the mingling bounds hove far been passed Dark Guadiana rolls his power along In sullen billows, murmuring and vast, So noted ancient roundelays among, Whilome upon his banks did legions throng Of moor and knight, in mailed splendour drest: Here ceased the swift their race, The Paynim turban and the Christian crest Mixed on the bleeding stream, by floating hosts oppressed. XXXV. Oh, lovely Spain ! renowned, romantic land! When Cava's traitor-sire first called the band That dyed thy mountain streams with Gothic gore?7 Where are those bloody banners which of yore And drove at last the spoilers to their shore? Red gleamed the cross, and waned the crescent pale, While Afric's echoes thrilled with Moorish matrons' wail. XXXVI. Teems not each ditty with the glorious tale? Ah! such, alas! the hero's amplest fate! A peasant's plaint prolongs his dubious date. See how the mighty shrink into a song! Can volume, pillar, pile preserve thee great? Or must thou trust tradition's simple tongue, When flattery sleeps with thee, and history does thee wrong! |