The Poems of Felicia Hemans
“O ye sierras of eternal snow!
Ye streams that by the tombs of heroes flow,
Woods, fountains, rocks of Spain! ye saw their might
In many a fierce and unforgotten fight--
Shall ye behold their lost, degenerate race
Dwell midst your scenes in fetters and disgrace
With each memorial of the past around,
Each mighty monument of days renown’d?
May this indignant heart ere then be cold,
This frame be gather’d to its kindred mould!
And the last life-drop circling through my veins
Have tinged a soil untainted yet by chains!
“And yet one struggle ere our doom is seal’d,
One mighty effort, one deciding field!
If vain each hope, we still have choice to be
In life the fetter’d, or in death the free!”
Still while he speaks each gallant heart beats high,
And ardour flashes from each kindling eye;
Youth, manhood, age, as if inspired, have caught
The glow of lofty hope and daring thought;
And all is hush’d around--as every sense
Dwelt on the tones of that wild eloquence.
But when his voice hath ceased, th’ impetuous cry
Of eager thousands bursts at once on high;
Rampart, and rock, and fortress ring around,
And fair Alhambra’s inmost halls resound.
“Lead us, O chieftain! lead us to the strife,
To fame in death, or liberty in life!”
O zeal of noble hearts! in vain display’d!
Now, while the burning spirit of the brave
Is roused to energies that yet might save--
E’en now, enthusiasts! while ye rush to claim
Your glorious trial on the field of fame,
Your king hath yielded! Valour’s dream is o’er;[86]
Power, wealth, and freedom are your own no more;
And for your children’s portion, but remains
That bitter heritage--the stranger’s chains.
[72] Garcilaso de la Vega derived his surname from a single combat (in
which he was the victor) with a Moor, on the Vega of Granada.
[73] “El Rey D. Fernando bolviò à la Vega, y pusò su Real à la vista de
Huecar, a veyute y seys dias del mes de Abril, adonde fuè fortificado
de todo lo necessario; poniendo el Christiano toda su gente en
esquadron, con todas sus vanderas tendidas, y su Real Estandarte, el
qual llevava por divisa un Christo crucificado.”--_Historia de las
Guerras Civiles de Granada._
[74] Andalusia signifies, in Arabic, the region of the evening or the
west; in a word, the _Hesperia_ of the Greeks.--See Casiri’s _Bibliot.
Arabico-Hispana_, and Gibbon’s _Decline and Fall_, &c.
[75] “Los Abencerrages salieron con su acostumbrada librea azul y
blanca, todos llenos de ricos texidos de plata, las plumas de la
misma color; en sus adargas, su acostumbrada divisa, salvages que
desquixalavan leones, y otros un mundo que lo deshazia un selvage con
un baston.”--_Guerras Civiles de Granada._
[76] The loftiest heights of the Sierra Nevada are those called
Mulhacen and Picacho de Veleta.
[77] It is known to be a frequent circumstance in battle, that the
dying and the wounded drag themselves, as it were mechanically, to the
shelter which may be afforded by any bush or thicket on the field.
[78] “Severe in youthful beauty.”--Milton.
[79] Transcriber’s Note: Anchor not found on original page 76 footnote
2. Granada stands upon two hills, separated by the Darro. The Xenil
runs under the walls. The Darro is said to carry with its stream small
particles of gold, and the Xenil of silver. When Charles V. came to
Granada with the Empress Isabella, the city presented him with a
crown made of gold, which had been collected from the Darro.--See
Bourgoanne’s and other Travels.
[80] “At this period, while the inhabitants of Granada were sunk in
indolence, one of those men whose natural and impassioned eloquence
has sometimes aroused a people to deeds of heroism, raised his voice
in the midst of the city, and awakened the inhabitants from their
lethargy. Twenty thousand enthusiasts, ranged under his banners, were
prepared to sally forth, with the fury of desperation, to attack the
besiegers, when Abo Abdeli, more afraid of his subjects than of the
enemy, resolved immediately to capitulate, and made terms with the
Christians, by which it was agreed that the Moors should be allowed the
free exercise of their religion and laws; should be permitted, if they
thought proper, to depart unmolested with their effects to Africa; and
that he himself, if he remained in Spain, should retain an extensive
estate, with houses and slaves, or be granted an equivalent in money if
he preferred retiring to Barbary.”--See Jacob’s _Travel in Spain_.
[81] Azarques, Zegris, Almoradis, different tribes of the Moors of
Granada, all of high distinction.
[82] The conquest of Granada was greatly facilitated by the civil
dissensions which at this period prevailed in the city. Several of the
Moorish tribes, influenced by private feuds, were fully prepared for
submission to the Spaniards; others had embraced the cause of Muley el
Zagal, the uncle and competitor for the throne of Abdallah, (or Abo
Abdeli,) and all was jealousy and animosity.
[83] Tarik, the first leader of the Arabs and Moors into Spain.
“The Saracens landed at the pillar or point of Europe. The corrupt
and familiar appellation of Gibraltar (Gebel al Tarik) describes
the mountain of Tarik; and the intrenchments of his camp were the
first outline of those fortifications which, in the hands of our
countrymen, have resisted the art and power of the house of Bourbon.
The adjacent governors informed the court of Toledo of the descent
and progress of the Arabs; and the defeat of his lieutenant Edeco,
who had been commanded to seize and bind the presumptuous strangers,
first admonished Roderic of the magnitude of the danger. At the royal
summons, the dukes and counts, the bishops and nobles of the Gothic
monarchy, assembled at the head of their followers; and the title of
king of the Romans, which is employed by an Arabic historian, may be
excused by the close affinity of language, religion, and manners,
between the nations of Spain.”--Gibbon’s _Decline and Fall_, &c. vol.
ix. p. 472, 473.
[84] “In the neighbourhood of Cadiz, the town of Xeres has been
illustrated by the encounter which determined the fate of the kingdom;
the stream of the Guadalete, which falls into the bay, divided the two
camps, and marked the advancing and retreating skirmishes of three
successive days. On the fourth day, the two armies joined a more
serious and decisive issue. Notwithstanding the valour of the Saracens,
they fainted under the weight of multitudes, and the plain of Xeres was
overspread with sixteen thousand of their dead bodies.--‘My brethren,’
said Tarik to his surviving companions, ‘the enemy is before you, the
sea is behind; whither would ye fly? Follow your general; I am resolved
either to lose my life, or to trample on the prostrate king of the
Romans.’ Besides the resource of despair, he confided in the secret
correspondence and nocturnal interviews of Count Julian with the sons
and the brother of Witiza. The two princes, and the Archbishop of
Toledo, occupied the most important post: their well-timed defection
broke the ranks of the Christians; each warrior was prompted by fear or
suspicion to consult his personal safety; and the remains of the Gothic
army were scattered or destroyed in the flight and pursuit of the three
following days.”--Gibbon’s _Decline and Fall_, &c. vol. ix. p. 473, 474.
[85] The _tecbir_, the shout of onset used by the Saracens in battle.
CANTO III.
“Fermossi al fin il cor che balzo tanto.”
Hippolito Pindemonte.
Heroes of elder days! untaught to yield,
Who bled for Spain on many an ancient field;
Ye that around the oaken cross of yore[87]
Stood firm and fearless on Asturia’s shore,
And with your spirit, ne’er to be subdued,
Hallow’d the wild Cantabrian solitude;
Rejoice amidst your dwellings of repose,
In the last chastening of your Moslem foes!
Rejoice!--for Spain, arising in her strength,
Hath burst the remnant of their yoke at length,
And they, in turn, the cup of woe must drain,
And bathe their fetters with their tears in vain.
And thou, the warrior _born in happy hour_,[88]
Valencia’s lord, whose name alone was power,
Theme of a thousand songs in days gone by,
Conqueror of kings! exult, O Cid! on high;
For still ’twas thine to guard thy country’s weal,
In life, in death, the watcher for Castile!
Thou, in that hour when Mauritania’s bands
Rush’d from their palmy groves and burning lands,
E’en in the realm of spirits didst retain
A patriot’s vigilance, remembering Spain![89]
Then at deep midnight rose the mighty sound,
By Leon heard in shuddering awe profound,
As through her echoing streets, in dread array,
Beings once mortal held their viewless way--
Voices from worlds we know not--and the tread
Of marching hosts, the armies of the dead,
Thou and thy buried chieftains: from the grave
Then did thy summons rouse a king to save,
And join thy warriors with unearthly might
To aid the rescue in Tolosa’s fight.
Those days are past--the crescent on thy shore,
O realm of evening! sets, to rise no more.[90]
What banner streams afar from Vela’s tower?[91]
The cross, bright ensign of Iberia’s power!
What the glad shout of each exulting voice?
“Castile and Aragon! rejoice, rejoice!”
Yielding free entrance to victorious foes,
The Moorish city sees her gates unclose,
And Spain’s proud host, with pennon, shield, and lance,
Through her long streets in knightly garb advance.
Oh! ne’er in lofty dreams hath Fancy’s eye
Dwelt on a scene of statelier pageantry,
At joust or tourney, theme of poet’s lore,
High masque or solemn festival of yore.
The gilded cupolas, that proudly rise
O’erarch’d by cloudless and cerulean skies;
Tall minarets, shining mosques, barbaric towers,
Fountains and palaces, and cypress bowers:
And they, the splendid and triumphant throng,
With helmets glittering as they move along,
With broider’d scarf and gem-bestudded mail,
And graceful plumage streaming on the gale;
Shields, gold-emboss’d, and pennons floating far,
And all the gorgeous blazonry of war,
All brighten’d by the rich transparent hues
That southern suns o’er heaven and earth diffuse--
Blend in one scene of glory, form’d to throw
O’er memory’s page a never-fading glow,
And there, too, foremost midst the conquering brave,
Your azure plumes, O Aben-Zurrahs! wave.
There Hamet moves; the chief whose lofty port
Seems nor reproach to shun, nor praise to court;
Calm, stern, collected--yet within his breast
Is there no pang, no struggle, unconfess’d?
If such there be, it still must dwell unseen,
Nor cloud a triumph with a sufferer’s mien.
Hear’st thou the solemn yet exulting sound
Of the deep anthem floating far around?
The choral voices, to the skies that raise
The full majestic harmony of praise?
Lo! where, surrounded by their princely train,
They come, the sovereigns of rejoicing Spain,
Borne on their trophied car--lo! bursting thence
A blaze of chivalrous magnificence!
Onward their slow and stately course they bend
To where th’ Alhambra’s ancient towers ascend,
Rear’d and adorn’d by Moorish kings of yore,
Whose lost descendants there shall dwell no more.
They reach those towers--irregularly vast
And rude they seem, in mould barbaric cast:[92]
They enter--to their wondering sight is given
A genii palace--an Arabian heaven![93]
A scene by magic raised, so strange, so fair,