PERU.

CANTO THE THIRD.

Now stern Pizarro seeks the distant plains, Where beauteous Cusco lifts her golden fanes: The meek Peruvians gaz'd in pale dismay, Nor barr'd the dark oppressor's sanguine way: And soon on Cusco, where the dawning light 5 Of glory shone, foretelling day more bright, Where the young arts had shed unfolding flowers, A scene of spreading desolation lowers; While buried deep in everlasting shade, Those l.u.s.tres sicken, and those blossoms fade. 10 And yet, devoted land, not gold alone, Or wild ambition wak'd thy parting groan; For, lo! a fiercer fiend, with joy elate, Feasts on thy suff'rings, and impels thy fate.

Fanatic fury rears her sullen shrine, 15 Where vultures prey, where venom'd adders twine; Her savage arm with purple torrents stains Thy rocking temples, and thy falling fanes; Her blazing torches flash the mounting fire, She grasps the sabre, and she lights the pyre; 20 Her voice is thunder, rending the still air, Her glance the livid light'ning's fatal glare; Her lips unhallow'd breathe their impious strain, And pure religion's sacred voice profane; Whose precepts, pity's mildest deeds approve, 25 Whose law is mercy, and whose soul is love.

Fanatic fury wakes the rising storm-- She wears the stern Valverda's hideous form; His bosom never felt another's woes, No shriek of anguish breaks its dark repose. 30 The temple nods--an aged form appears-- He beats his breast--he rends his silver hairs-- Valverda drags him from the blest abode Where his meek spirit humbly sought its G.o.d: See, to his aid his child, soft Zilia, springs, 35 And steeps in tears the robe to which she clings, Till bursting from Peruvia's frighted throng, Two warlike youths impetuous rush'd along; One, grasp'd his tw.a.n.ging bow with furious air, While in his troubled eye sat fierce despair. 40 But all in vain his erring weapon flies, Pierc'd by a thousand wounds, on earth he lies.

His drooping head the heart-struck Zilia rais'd, And on the youth in speechless anguish gaz'd; While he, who fondly shar'd his danger, flew, 45 And from his breast a reeking sabre drew.

"Deep in my faithful bosom let me hide "The fatal steel, that would our souls divide,"

He quick exclaims--the dying warrior cries, "Ah, yet forbear!--by all the sacred ties, 50 "That bind our hearts, forbear"--In vain he spoke, Friendship with frantic zeal impels the stroke: "Thyself for ever lost, thou hop'st in vain, "The youth replied, my spirit to detain; "From thee, my soul, in childhood's earliest year, 55 "Caught the light pleasure, and the starting tear; "Thy friendship then my young affections blest, "The first pure pa.s.sion of my infant breast; "That pa.s.sion, which o'er life delight has shed, "By reason cherish'd, and by virtue fed: 60 "And still in death I feel its strong controul; "Its sacred impulse wings my fleeting soul, "That only lingers here till thou depart, "Whose image lives upon my fainting heart."-- In vain the gen'rous youth, with panting breath, 65 Pour'd these lost murmurs in the ear of death; He reads the fatal truth in _Zilia's_ eye, And gives to friendship his expiring sigh.-- But now with rage Valverda's glances roll, And mark the vengeance rankling in his soul: 70 He bends his wrinkled brow--his lips impart The brooding purpose of his venom'd heart; He bids the h.o.a.ry priest in mutter'd strains, Abjure his faith, forsake his falling fanes, While yet the ling'ring pangs of torture wait, 75 While yet _Valverda's_ power suspends his fate.

"Vain man, the victim cried, to h.o.a.ry years "Know death is mild, and virtue feels no fears: "Cruel of spirit, come! let tortures prove "The Power I serv'd in life, in death I love."-- 80 He ceas'd--with rugged cords his limbs they bound, And drag the aged suff'rer on the ground; They grasp his feeble form, his tresses tear, His robe they rend, his shrivell'd bosom bare.

Ah, see his uncomplaining soul sustain 85 The sting of insult, and the dart of pain; His stedfast spirit feels one pang alone; A child's despair awakes one suff'ring groan-- The mourner kneels to catch his parting breath, To sooth the agony of ling'ring death; 90 No moan she breath'd, no tear had power to flow, Still on her lip expir'd th' unutter'd woe: Yet ah, her livid cheek, her stedfast look, The desolated soul's deep anguish spoke-- Mild victim! close not yet thy languid eyes; 95 Pure spirit! claim not yet thy kindred skies; A pitying angel comes to stay thy flight, _Las Casas_[A] bids thee view returning light: Ah, let that sacred drop to virtue dear, Efface thy wrongs--receive his precious tear; 100 See his flush'd cheek with indignation glow, While from his lips the tones of pity flow.

"Oh suff'ring Lord! he cried, whose streaming blood "Was pour'd for man--Earth drank the sacred flood-- "Whose mercy in the mortal pang forgave 105 "The murd'rous band, thy love alone could save; "Forgive--thy goodness bursts each narrow bound, "Which feeble thought, and human hope surround; "Forgive the guilty wretch, whose impious hand "From thy pure altar flings the flaming brand, 110 "In human blood that hallow'd altar steeps, "Libation dire! while groaning nature weeps-- "The limits of thy mercy dares to scan, "The object of thy love, his victim,--Man; "While yet I linger, lo, the suff'rer dies-- 115 "I see his frame convuls'd--I hear his sighs-- "Whoe'er controuls the purpose of my heart "First in this breast shall plunge his guilty dart:"

With anxious step he flew, with eager hands He broke the fetters, burst the cruel bands. 120 As the fall'n angel heard with awful fear The cherub's grave rebuke, in grace severe, And fled, while horror plum'd his impious crest[B], The form of virtue, as she stood confest; So fierce Valverda sullen mov'd along, 125 Abash'd, and follow'd by the guilty throng.

At length the h.o.a.ry victim, freed from chains, Las Casas gently leads to safer plains; Soft Zilia's yielding soul the joy opprest, She bath'd with floods of tears her father's breast. 130 Las Casas now explores a secret cave Whose s.h.a.ggy sides the languid billows lave; "There rest secure, he cried, the Christian G.o.d "Will hover near, will guard the lone abode."

Oft to the gloomy cell his steps repair, 135 While night's chill breezes wave his silver'd hair; Oft in the tones of love, the words of peace, He bids the bitter tears of anguish cease; Bids drooping hope uplift her languid eyes, And points a dearer bliss beyond the skies. 140 Yet ah, in vain his pious cares would save The h.o.a.ry suff'rer from the op'ning grave; For deep the pangs of torture pierc'd his frame, And sunk his wasted life's expiring flame; To his cold lip Las Casa's hand he prest, 145 He faintly clasp'd his Zilia to his breast; Then cried, "the G.o.d, whom now my vows adore, "My heart thro' life obey'd, unknowing more; "His mild forgiveness then my soul shall prove, "His mercy share--Las Casa's G.o.d, is Love!" 150 He spoke no more--his Zilia's frantic moan Was heard responsive to his dying groan.

"Victim of impious zeal, Las Casas cries, "Accept departed shade, a Christian's sighs; "And thou, soft mourner, tender, drooping form, 155 "What power shall guard thee from the fearful storm?

"Weep not for me, she cried, for Zilia's breast "Soon in the shelt'ring earth shall find its rest.

"Hope not the victim of despair to save, "I ask but death--I only seek a grave-- 160 "Witness thou mangled form that earth retains, "Witness a murder'd lover's cold remains.

"I liv'd my father's pangs to sooth, to share; "I bore to live, tho' life was all despair-- "In vain my lover, urg'd by fond desire 165 "To shield from torture, and from death my sire, "Flew to the fane where stern Valverda rag'd, "And fearless, with unequal force engag'd; "I saw him bleeding, dying press the ground, "I drew the poison from each fatal wound; 170 "I bath'd those wounds with tears--he pour'd a sigh-- "A drop hung trembling in his closing eye-- "Ah, still his mournful sign I shiv'ring hear, "In every pulse I feel his parting tear-- "I faint--an icy coldness chills each vein, 175 "No more these feeble limbs their load sustain: "Spirit of pity! catch my fleeting breath, "A moment stay--and close my eyes in death-- "_Las Casas_, thee, thy G.o.d in mercy gave "To sooth my pangs--to find the wretch a grave."-- 180 She ceas'd--her spirit fled to purer spheres-- _Las Casas_ bathes the pallid corse with tears-- Fly, minister of good! nor ling'ring shed Those fruitless sorrows o'er the unconscious dead; Ah fly--'tis innocence, 'tis virtue bleeds, 185 And heav'n will listen, when an angel pleads; I view the sanguine flood, the wasting flame, I hear a suff'ring world _Las Casas_ claim! 188

[A] LAS CASAS, &c. that amiable Ecclesiastic, who obtained by his humanity the t.i.tle of Protector of the Indies.

[B] --On his crest Sat horror plum'd.

_Par. Lost_, iv. 988.

PERU.

CANTO THE FOURTH.

THE ARGUMENT.

Almagro's _expedition to Chili--his troops suffer great hardships from cold, in crossing the Andes--they reach Chili--the Chilese make a brave resistance--the revolt of the Peruvians in Cuzco--they are led on by_ Manco-Capac, _the successor of_ Ataliba--_his parting with_ Cora, _his wife--the Peruvians regain half their city_--Almagro _leaves Chili--to avoid the Andes, he crosses a vast desert--his troops can find no water --the rest divide in two bands_--Alphonso _leads the second band, which soon reaches a fertile valley--the Spaniards observe the natives are employed in searching the streams for gold--they resolve to attack them._

PERU.

CANTO THE FOURTH.

Now the stern partner of Pizarro's toils, Almagro, lur'd by hope of golden spoils, To distant Chili's ever-verdant meads, Thro' paths untrod, a band of warriors leads; O'er the high Andes' frozen steeps they go, 5 And wander mid' eternal hills of snow: In vain the vivifying orb of day Darts on th' impervious ice his fervent ray; Cold, keen as chains the oceans of the Pole, Numbs the shrunk frame, and chills the vig'rous soul-- 10 At length they reach luxuriant _Chili's_ plain, Where ends the dreary bound of winter's reign; Where spring sheds odours thro' th' unvaried year, And bathes the flower of summer, with her tear.

When first the brave _Chilese_, with eager glance, 15 Behold the hostile sons of Spain advance; Heard the loud thunder of the cannon crash, And view'd the light'ning of the instant flash, The threat'ning sabre red with purple streams, The lance that quiver'd in the solar beams; 20 With pale surprise they saw the lowring storm, Where hung dark danger, in an unknown form: But soon their spirits, stung with gen'rous shame, Renounce each terror, and for vengeance flame; Pant high with sacred freedom's ardent glow, 25 And met intrepid, the superiour foe.

Long unsubdu'd by stern Almagro's train, Their valiant tribes unequal fight maintain; Long victory hover'd doubtful o'er the field, And oft she forc'd Iberia's band to yield; 30 Oft tore from Spain's proud head her laurel bough, And bade it blossom on Peruvia's brow; When sudden tidings reach'd Almagro's ear That shook the warrior's soul with doubt and fear.

Of murder'd Ataliba's royal race 35 There yet remain'd a youth of blooming grace, Who pin'd, the captive of relentless Spain, And long in Cusco dragg'd her galling chain; _Capac_ his name, whose soul indignant bears The rankling fetters, and revenge prepares. 40 But since his daring spirit must forego The hope to rush upon the tyrant foe, Led by his parent orb, that gives the day, And fierce as darts the keen, meridian ray, He vows to bend unseen his hostile course, 45 Then on the victors rise with latent force, As sudden from its cloud the brooding storm, Bursts in the thunder's voice, the lightning's form-- For this, from stern Pizarro he obtains The boon, enlarg'd, to seek the neighb'ring plains, 50 For one bless'd day, and with his friends unite To crown with solemn pomp an ancient rite; Share the dear pleasures of the social hour, And mid' their fetters twine one festal flower.

So spoke the Prince--far other thoughts possest, 55 Far other purpose animates his breast: For now Peruvia's n.o.bles he commands To lead, with silent step, her martial bands Forth to the destin'd spot, prepar'd to dare The fiercest shock of dire, unequal war; 60 While every tender, human interest pleads, And urges the firm soul to lofty deeds.

Now Capac hail'd th' eventful morning's light, Rose with its dawn, and panted for the fight; But first with fondness to his heart he prest 65 The tender Cora, partner of his breast; Who with her lord, had sought the dungeon's gloom, And wasted there in grief, her early bloom.

"No more, he cried, no more my love shall feel "The mingled agonies I fly to heal; 70 "I go, but soon exulting shall return, "And bid my faithful Cora cease to mourn: "For oh, amid' each pang my bosom knows, "What wastes, what wounds it most, are Cora's woes.

"Sweet was the love that crown'd our happier hours, 75 "And shed new fragrance o'er a path of flowers; "But sure divided sorrow more endears "The tie, that pa.s.sion seals with mutual tears"-- He paus'd--fast-flowing drops bedew'd her eyes, While thus in mournful accents she replies: 80 "Still let me feel the pressure of thy chain, "Still share the fetters which my love detain; "Those piercing irons to my soul are dear, "Nor will their sharpness wound while thou art near.

"Oh think not, when in thee alone I live, 85 "This breast can bear the pain thy dangers give, "Look on our helpless babe in mis'ry nurst-- "My child--my child, thy mother's heart will burst!

"Methinks I see the raging battle rise, "And hear this harmless suff'rer's feeble cries; 90 "I view the blades that pour a sanguine flood, "And plunge their cruel edge in infant blood."-- She could no more; her falt'ring accents die, Yet her soul spoke expressive in her eye; Her lord beholds her grief, with tender pain, 95 And leads her breathless, to a shelt'ring fane.

Now high in air his feather'd standard waves, And soon from shrouding woods, and hollow caves, A num'rous host along the plain appear, And hail their monarch with a gen'rous tear: 100 To Cusco's gate now rush th' increasing throngs, And such their ardor, rouz'd by sense of wrongs, That vainly would Pizarro's vet'ran force Arrest the torrent in its raging course; In vain his murd'ring bands terrific stood, 105 And plung'd their sabres in a sea of blood; Danger and death Peruvia's sons disdain, And half their captive city soon regain.

With such pure joy the natives view their lord To the warm wishes of their souls restor'd, 110 As feels the tender child whom force had torn From his lov'd home, and bruis'd the flower of morn, When his fond searching eye again beholds His mother's form, when in her arms she folds The long lost child, who bathes with tears her face, And finds his safety in her dear embrace.--

Soon as Almagro heard applauding fame 115 The triumphs of Peruvia, loud proclaim, Unconquer'd Chili's vale he swift forsakes, And his bold course to distant Cusco takes; Shuns Andes' icy shower, its chilling snows, The arrowy gale that on its summit blows; 120 A burning desart undismay'd he past, And meets the ardours of the fiery blast.

Now as along the sultry waste they move, The keenest pang of raging thirst they prove: No cooling fruit its grateful juice distils, 125 Nor flows one balmy drop from crystal rills; For nature sickens in th' oppressive beam, That shrinks the vernal bud, and dries the stream; While horror, as his giant stature grows, O'er the drear void his spreading shadow throws. 130

Almagro's band now pale, and fainting stray, While death oft barr'd the sinking warrior's way: At length the chief divides his martial force, And bids Alphonso, by a sep'rate course, Lead o'er the hideous desart half his train-- 135 "And search, he cried, this drear, uncultur'd plain: "Perchance some fruitage withering in the breeze, "The pains of lessen'd numbers may appease; "Or Heav'n in pity, from some genial shower, "On the parch'd lip one precious drop may pour." 140

Not far the troops of young Alphonso went, When sudden, from a rising hill's ascent, They view a valley, fed by fertile springs, Which Andes from his lofty summit flings; Where summer's flowers their mingled odours shed, 145 And wildly bloom, a waste by beauty spread-- To the charm'd warrior's eye, the vernal scene That 'mid the howling desart, smil'd serene, Appear'd like nature rising from the breast Of chaos, in her infant graces drest; 150 When warbling angels hail'd the lovely birth, And stoop'd from heav'n to bless the new-born earth.

And now Alphonso, and his martial band, On the rich border of the valley stand; They quaff the limpid stream with eager haste, 155 And the pure juice that swells the fruitage taste; Then give to balmy rest the night's still hours, Fann'd by the sighing gale that shuts the flowers.

Soon as the purple beam of morning glows, Refresh'd from all their toils, the warriors rose; 160 And saw the gentle natives of the mead Search the clear currents for the golden seed; Which from the mountain's height with headlong sweep The torrents bear, in many a shining heap-- Iberia's sons beheld with anxious brow 165 The tempting lure, then breathe th' unpitying vow O'er those fair lawns to pour a sanguine flood, And dye those lucid streams with waves of blood.

Thus, while the humming bird in beauty drest, Enchanting offspring of the ardent West, 170 Attunes his soothing song to notes of love, Mild as the murmurs of the mourning dove; While his soft plumage glows with brighter hues, And while with tender bill he sips the dews, The savage Condor, on terrific wings, 175 From Andes' frozen steep relentless springs; And quiv'ring in his fangs, his hapless prey Drops his gay plume, and sighs his soul away. 178

PERU.

CANTO THE FIFTH.

THE ARGUMENT.

_Character of_ Zamor, _a Bard--his pa.s.sion for_ Aciloe, _daughter of the Cazique who rules the valley--the Peruvian tribe prepare to defend themselves--a battle--the Peruvians are vanquished_--Aciloe's _father is made a prisoner, and_ Zamor _is supposed to have fallen in the engagement_--Alphonso _becomes enamoured of_ Aciloe--_offers to marry her; she rejects him--in revenge he puts her father to the torture--she appears to consent, in order to save him--meets_ Zamor _in a wood_--Las Casas _joins them--leads the two lovers to_ Alphonso, _and obtains their freedom_--Zamor _conducts_ Aciloe _and her father to Chili--a reflection on the influence of Poetry over the human mind._

PERU.

CANTO THE FIFTH.

In this sweet scene, to all the virtues kind, Mild Zamor own'd the richest gifts of mind; For o'er his tuneful breast the heav'nly muse Shed from her sacred spring, inspiring dews.

She loves to breathe her hallow'd flame, where art 5 Has never veil'd the soul, or warp'd the heart; Where fancy glows with all her native fire, And pa.s.sion lives on the exulting lyre.

Nature, in terror rob'd, or beauty drest, Could thrill with dear enchantment Zamor's breast: 10 He lov'd the languid sigh the zephyr pours, He lov'd the murm'ring rill that fed the flow'rs; But more the hollow sound the wild winds form, When black upon the billow hangs the storm; The torrent rolling from the mountain steep, 15 Its white foam trembling on the darken'd deep-- And oft on Andes' height with eager gaze, He view'd the sinking sun's reflected rays, Glow like unnumber'd stars, that seem to rest Sublime, upon his ice-encircled breast. 20 Oft his wild warblings charm'd the festal hour, Rose in the vale, and languish'd in the bower; The heart's responsive tones he well could move, Whose song was nature, and whose theme was love.

Aciloe's beauties his fond eye confest, 25 Yet more Aciloe's virtues warm'd his breast.

Ah stay, ye tender hours of young delight, Suspend ye moments your impatient flight; For sure if aught on earth can bliss impart, Can shed the genuine joy that sooths the heart, 30 'Tis felt, when early pa.s.sion's pure controul Unfolds the first affections of the soul; Bids her soft sympathies the bosom move, And wakes the mild emotions dear to love.

The gentle tribe Aciloe's sire obey'd 35 Who still in wisdom, and in mercy sway'd.

From him the dear illusions long had fled, That o'er the morn of life enchantment shed; Yet virtue's calm reflections cheer'd his breast, And life was joy serene, and death was rest. 40 Tho' sweet the early spring, her blossoms bright, When first she swells the heart with pure delight, Yet not unlovely is the sober ray That meekly beams o'er autumn's temper'd day; Dear are her fading beauties to the soul, 45 While scarce perceiv'd the deep'ning shadows roll.

Now the charm'd lovers dress their future years In forms of joy, then weep delicious tears, Expressive on the glowing cheek that hung, And spoke the fine emotions whence they sprung-- 50 'Twas truth's warm energy, love's sweet controul, 'Twas all that virtue whispers to the soul.

When lo, Iberia's ruthless sons advance, Roll the stern eye, and shake the pointed lance: Oh Nature! the destroying band oppose, 55 Nature, arrest their course--they come thy foes-- Benignant power, where thou with lib'ral care Hast planted joy, they come to plant despair-- Peruvia's tribe beheld the hostile throng With desolating fury pour along; 60 With horror their ensanguin'd path they trac'd, And now to meet the murd'ring band they haste; The h.o.a.ry chief to the dire conflict leads His death devoted train--the battle bleeds.

Aciloe's searching eye can now no more 65 The form of Zamor, or her sire explore; She hears the moan of death in every gale, She sees a purple torrent stain the vale; While destin'd all the bitterness to prove Of mourning duty, and of bleeding love, 70 Each name that's dearest wakes her bursting sigh, Throbs at her soul, and trembles in her eye.

Now, pierc'd by wounds, and breathless from the fight, Her friend, the valiant Omar, struck her sight: "Omar (she cried) you bleed, unhappy youth, 75 "And sure that look unfolds some fatal truth: "Speak, pitying speak, my frantic fears forgive, "Say, does my father, does my Zamor live?"

"All, all is lost, (the dying Omar said) "And endless griefs are thine, dear wretched maid; 80 "I saw thy aged sire a captive bound, "I saw thy Zamor press the crimson ground"-- He could no more, he yields his fleeting breath, While all in vain she seeks repose in death.