Iberia Won 52

Iberia Won 52

XXX. “So like a god he to her eyes doth seem,

Who came from demon-hate her soul to free.”

 

_Clyt._ Οὐκ ἔχω βωμὸν καταφυγεῖν ἄλλον, ἢ τὸ σὸν γόνυ,

Οὐδὲ φίλος οὐδεὶς γελᾷ μοι. * * *

Eurip. _Iphig. in Aul._ 911.

 

_Achil._ Θεὸς ἐγὼ πέφῃνά σοι

Μέγιστος, οὐκ ὢν.

_Ib._ 973.

 

_Clyt._ “I have no other altar to fly to but thy knee; nor have

I a friend!”

 

_Achil._ “I have appeared to thee a mighty God; but am not one.”

 

 

XXXII. “His frame sharp anguish shook,” &c.

 

----κλαίοντα λιγέως.

Hom. _Il._ T.

 

“Crying sharply”--such is the epithet which the poet applies to the

wailing of Achilles for Patroclus.

 

 

XXXIII. “Through fiery scourge so San Sebastian past,” &c.

 

Πόλις δ’ ὁμοῦ μὲν θυμιαμάτων γέμει,

Ὁμοῦ δὲ παιάνων τε καὶ στεναγμάτων.

Soph. _Œdip._ Tyr. 4.

 

Πόλις γὰρ, ὥσπερ καὐτὸς εἰσορᾷς, ἄγαν

Ἤδη σαλεύει, κᾴνακουφίσαι κάρα

Βυθῶν ἔτ’ οὐχ οἵα τε φοινίου σάλου.

_Ib._ 22.

 

“The whole city smokes, and is full of mournful pæans and

lamentations. * * As thou thyself dost witness, the city is shaken

with a mighty grief, nor can raise its head from the depths of the

gory sea.”

 

“Till all was smouldering heaps of desolation, wo.”

 

Gern möcht’ er in tempeln beten,

Nur trümmer findet er mehr!

Altar’ und Götter liegen

Zerstückelt am boden umher.

Anastasius Grün (Von Auersperg).

 

“Willingly would he pray in temples, but he finds only ruins.

Altars and Gods lie shattered upon the earth around!”

 

 

XXXIX. “Thy soul shall covet but of Locrian power

And intellect the glory! Beaconing men

To happiness be thine--still Freedom’s tower,

Still making every scowling Despot cower!”

 

Νέμει γὰρ Ἀτρέκεια πόλιν Λοκρῶν

Ζεφυρίων: μέλει τέ σφισι Καλλιόπα,

Καὶ χάλκεος Ἄρης.

Pind. _Olymp._ x.

 

“For Truth doth govern in the Zephyrian Locri’s city, and Calliope

is their care, and likewise brazen Mars.” A magnificent eulogy is

conveyed here in a few words. Ἀτρέκεια in the original has the

force both of Truth and Justice. No people of antiquity were more

renowned for the excellence of their institutions than the Locri,

who were the first to make use of written laws. (Strabo, _lib._ 6.)

Calliope is used by synecdoche for the Muses, to whom the Locri

were greatly devoted, having invented the Locric harmony which was

subsequently imitated by Sappho and Anacreon. (Athenæus, _lib._

xiv. et xv.) Their warlike character upon fitting occasions was

also terribly displayed, 10,000 Locri having put to flight 130,000

invading Crotonians on the banks of the river Sagra--a fact which,

at first doubted as impossible, was afterwards strictly verified,

and passed into a proverb. (Strabo, _lib._ 6.) The epithet “brazen”

applied here to Mars arises from the singular fact that iron did

not enter into the composition of the Grecian arms, which were all

of brass. (Pausanias, _in Laconicis_, and Homer _passim_.) The

magnificent region of Locris was situated at the foot of Parnassus;

and the splendid pre-eminence of its inhabitants in arts and arms,

with their prodigious victory over the Crotonians, appears to

justify their comparison with England.

 

 

XLII. “Her soul was all absorbed in his--her life

Was cast, since meeting, in another mould.”

 

Und wenn du ganz in dem gefühle selig bist,

Nenn es dann wie du willst,

Nenn’s glück! herz! liebe! Gott!

Ich habe keinen namen

Dafür! Gefühl ist alles.

Goethe, _Faust_.

 

“And when thou art perfectly blissful in that feeling, call it

what thou wilt--call it joy--heart--love--God! I have no name for

it--feeling is all!”

 

 

XLIII. “And pluck the golden apple from the bough.”

 

Vel cùm decorum mitibus pomis caput

Autumnus arvis extulit,

Ut gaudet ... decerpens pyra,

Certantem et uvam purpuræ.

Hor. _Epod._ ii.

 

XLVII. “Even the dread Cathedral leap

Chose the maid before dishonour.”

 

----Θυσίας

Παρθενίου θ’ αἵματος ὀρ-

γᾷ περιόργως ἐπιθυ-

μεῖν Θέμις.

Æschyl. _Agamem._ 216.

 

“Of the sacrifice of virgin blood Diana is vehemently desirous.”

 

 

 

 

IBERIA WON.

 

Canto X.

 

 

I.

 

Heavy the Morn, and sullenly and fierce

A thunder-storm o’ergathers Haya’s crest.

His rocky diadem red lightnings pierce,

Leap o’er each crag, and smite the eagle’s nest;

And volleying thunder rolls from East to West.

Now rain in gushing torrents drowns the sky;

Anon a fiery bolt on Mandal’s breast

Leaves its black scar;--anon the storm from high

O’er Bidasóa falls while winds like spirits cry!

 

 

II.

 

Great Arthur seized the tempest as a boon,

His columns lit by glory to advance

Tow’rds Commissari, Bayonnette, and Rhune,

And entering tame the pride of haughty France.

Daring his mighty plan, whose toils enhance

The Fuéntarábian waters poured between.

A stronger than Bernardo wields the lance,

And Paladins again to quail are seen.

Our conquering footsteps Spain re-echoes proud, I ween.

 

 

III.

 

For Roncesvalles is to Spain restored;

Her Mina’s legions fill its storied dell.

His Guerrilleros ’neath that Chief adored

’Gainst the marauding Gaul have battled well.

And at Baigorri hark where grandly swell

The war-notes of Castile, while rush the wild

Partidas ringing many a Norman’s knell;

And sweep from France the forage she hath piled

On Spanish soil profaned, from stall and sheepfold mild.

 

 

IV.

 

Unconsciously the lowing herds resent

Their change of masters, rudely by the horn

Seized in the foray while trabúcos bent

’Gainst Gaulish bosoms vomit deathful scorn,

With loud explosive sound on Echo borne.

And innocent sheep in thousands piteous bleat

’Gainst hands that will restore them ere the Morn

To the sweet fold, and oxen loud repeat

Moan upon moan, by bayonet pricked or firelock beat.

 

 

V.

 

And on Ayrola’s rock is swift surprised

By Campbell’s highlanders a post of Gaul;

For not more firm the red-deer’s limb is poised

For strength and fleetness mixed than doth befal

Those hardy mountaineers whose shouts appal

The braves of France--as e’en surprised them more,

When first beheld by Vimieiro’s wall,

Their antique garb, such as in days of yore

(In them revived to-day) the Roman legions wore.

 

 

VI.

 

Thus breaking fast the spirit of Gallia’s sons,

Great Arthur now begins his great emprize;

Where Bidasóa’s stream impetuous runs,

Resolved to pass though strenuous Soult defies.

And while the thunder-storm doth lash the skies,

His dread artillery’s ranged on Marcial’s flanks.

O’er the tall crest doth many a cannon rise;

His columns line the Bidasóa’s banks,

In silence poured along, and form their warlike ranks.

 

 

VII.

 

Full many a howitzer by fair Irún,

While rages still the blast, its thunder hoards;

And there lies closely moored each strong pontoon,

Beneath the town. Where Bidasóa’s fords,

Through fishermen unawed by Gallic swords,

To lynx-eyed vigilance their soundings yield,

Castile shall pass and flout her tyrant lords.

With deftest skill the troops are all concealed

By Jonco, Biriatú, and Fuéntarabia’s field.