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From the Columbiad.
SOON the glad prince, in robes of white array’d, | |
| Call’d his attendants, and the sire obey’d; | |
| A diamond broad, in burning gold imprest, | |
| Display’d the sun’s bright image on his breast; | |
| A pearl-dropt girdle bound his waist below, | 5 |
| And the white lautu graced his lofty brow. | |
| They journey’d forth, o’ermarching far the mound | |
| That flank’d the kingdom on its Andean bound; | |
| Ridge after ridge through vagrant hordes they pass’d, | |
| Where each new tribe seem’d wilder than the last; | 10 |
| To all they preach and prove the solar sway | |
| And climb fresh mountains on their tedious way. | |
| At length, as through disparting clouds they rise, | |
| And hills above them still obstruct the skies, | |
| While a dead calm o’er all the region stood | 15 |
| And not a leaf could fan its parent wood, | |
| Sudden a strange portentous noise began; | |
| The birds fled wild, the beasts for shelter ran; | |
| Slow, sullen, loud, with deep astounding blare, | |
| Swell the strong tones of subterranean war; | 20 |
| Behind, before, beneath them groans the ground, | |
| Earth heaves and labors with the shuddering sound; | |
| Columns of smoke, that cap the rumbling height, | |
| Roll reddening far through heaven and choke the light; | |
| From tottering steeps descend their cliffs of snow, | 25 |
| The mountains reel, the valleys rend below; | |
| The headlong streams forget their usual round | |
| And shrink and vanish in the gaping ground. | |
| The sun descends; but night recalls in vain | |
| Her silent shades, to recommence her reign; | 30 |
| The bursting mount gapes high, a sudden glare | |
| Corruscates wide, till all the purpling air | |
| Breaks into flame; it wheels and roars and raves | |
| And wraps the welkin in its folding waves. | |
| Light sailing cinders, through its vortex driven, | 35 |
| Stream high and brighten to the midst of heaven; | |
| And, following slow, full floods of boiling ore | |
| Swell, swoop aloft, and through the concave roar. | |
| Torrents of molten rocks, on every side, | |
| Lead o’er the shelves of ice their fiery tide; | 40 |
| Hills slide before them, skies around them burn, | |
| Towns sink beneath and heaving plains upturn; | |
| O’er many a league the flaming deluge hurl’d, | |
| Sweeps total nations from the staggering world. | |
| Meanwhile, at distance through the livid light, | 45 |
| A busy concourse met their wondering sight; | |
| The prince drew near; where lo! an altar stood, | |
| Rude in its form and fill’d with burning wood; | |
| Wrapt in the flames a child expiring lay | |
| And the fond father thus was heard to pray: | 50 |
| “Receive, O dreadful power, from feeble age | |
| This last pure offering to thy sateless rage; | |
| Thrice has thy vengeance on this hated land | |
| Claim’d a dear infant from my yielding hand, | |
| Thrice have those lovely lips the victim press’d, | 55 |
| And all the mother torn that tender breast, | |
| When the dread duty stifled every sigh | |
| And not a tear escaped her beauteous eye. | |
| Our fourth and last now meets the fatal doom; | |
| Groan not, my child, thy god remands thee home; | 60 |
| Attend once more, thou dark infernal name, | |
| From yon far streaming pyramid of flame; | |
| Snatch from his heaving flesh the blasted breath, | |
| Sacred to thee and all the fiends of death; | |
| Then in thy hall, with spoils of nations crown’d, | 65 |
| Confine thy walks beneath the rending ground; | |
| No more on earth the embowell’d flames to pour, | |
| And scourge my people and my race no more.” | |
| Thus Rocha heard; and to the trembling crowd | |
| Turn’d the bright image of his beaming god. | 70 |
| The afflicted chief, with fear and grief oppress’d, | |
| Beheld the sign, and thus the prince address’d: | |
| “From what far land, O royal stranger, say, | |
| Ascend thy wandering steps this nightly way? | |
| From plains like ours, by holy demons fired? | 75 |
| Have thy brave people in the flames expired? | |
| And hast thou now, to stay the whelming flood, | |
| No son to offer to the furious god?” | |
| “From happier lands I came,” the prince returns, | |
| “Where no red flaming flood the concave burns, | 80 |
| No furious god bestorms our soil and skies, | |
| Nor yield our hands the bloody sacrifice; | |
| But life and joy the Power delights to give, | |
| And bids his children but rejoice and live. | |
| Thou seest through heaven the day-dispensing Sun | 85 |
| In living radiance wheel his golden throne, | |
| O’er earth’s gay surface send his genial beams, | |
| Force from yon cliffs of ice the vernal streams; | |
| While fruits and flowers adorn the cultured field, | |
| And seas and lakes their copious treasures yield: | 90 |
| He reigns our only god. In him we trace | |
| The friend, the father of our happy race. | |
| Late the lone tribes, on those unlabor’d shores, | |
| Ran wild, and served imaginary powers; | |
| Till he in pity taught their feuds to cease, | 95 |
| Devised their laws and fashion’d all for peace. | |
| My sacred parents first the reign began, | |
| Sent from his courts to guide the paths of man, | |
| To plant his fruits, to manifest his sway, | |
| And give their blessings where he gives the day.” * * * * * * | 100 |
| The legates now their further course descried, | |
| A young cazique attending as a guide, | |
| O’er craggy cliffs pursued their eastern way, | |
| Trod loftier champaigns, meeting high the day: | |
| Saw timorous tribes in these sublime abodes | 105 |
| Adore the blasts and turn the storms to gods; | |
| While every cloud that thunders through the skies | |
| Claims from their hands a human sacrifice. | |
| Awhile the youth, their better faith to gain, | |
| Strives with his usual art, but strives in vain; | 110 |
| In vain he pleads the mildness of the sun; | |
| A gale refutes him ere his speech be done; | |
| Continual tempests from their orient blow, | |
| And load the mountains with eternal snow. | |
| The sun’s own beam, the timid clans declare, | 115 |
| Drives all their evils on the tortured air; | |
| He draws the vapors up their eastern sky, | |
| That sail and centre round his dazzling eye; | |
| Leads the loud storms along his mid-day course | |
| And bids the Andes meet their sweeping force, | 120 |
| Builds their bleak summits with an icy throne, | |
| To shine through heaven, a semblance of his own; | |
| Hence the sharp sleet these lifted lawns that wait, | |
| And all the scourges that attend their state. | |
| Two toilsome days the virtuous Inca strove | 125 |
| To social life their savage minds to move; | |
| When the third morning glow’d serenely bright, | |
| He led their elders to an eastern height; | |
| The world unlimited beneath them lay, | |
| And not a cloud obscured the rising day. | 130 |
| Vast Amazonia, starr’d with twinkling streams, | |
| In azure drest, a heaven inverted seems; | |
| Dim Paraguay extends the aching sight, | |
| Xaraya glimmers like the moon of night, | |
| Land, water, sky, in blending borders play | 135 |
| And smile and brighten to the lamp of day. | |
| When thus the prince: What majesty divine! | |
| What robes of gold! what flames about him shine! | |
| There walks the god; his starry sons on high | |
| Draw their dim veil and shrink behind the sky; | 140 |
| Earth with surrounding nature ’s born anew, | |
| And men by millions greet the glorious view. | |
| Who can behold his all delighting soul | |
| Give life and joy, and heaven and earth control, | |
| Bid death and darkness from his presence move, | 145 |
| Who can behold and not adore and love? | |
| Those plains, immensely circling, feel his beams, | |
| He greens the groves, he silvers gay the streams, | |
| Swells the wild fruitage, gives the beast his food, | |
| And mute creation hails the genial god. | 150 |
| But richer boons his righteous laws impart, | |
| To aid the life and mould the social heart, | |
| His arts of peace through happy realms to spread, | |
| And altars grace with sacrificial bread; | |
| Such our distinguish’d lot, who own his sway, | 155 |
| Mild as his morning stars and liberal as the day. | |
| His unknown laws, the mountain chief replied, | |
| May serve perchance your boasted race to guide: | |
| And yon low plains, that drink his partial ray, | |
| At his glad shrine their just devotions pay. | 160 |
| But we nor fear his frown nor trust his smile; | |
| Vain as our prayers is every anxious toil; | |
| Our beasts are buried in his whirls of snow, | |
| Our cabins drifted to his slaves below. | |
| Even now his placid looks thy hopes beguile, | 165 |
| He lures thy raptures with a morning smile; | |
| But soon (for so those saffron robes proclaim) | |
| His own black tempest shall obstruct his flame, | |
| Storm, thunder, fire against the mountains driven, | |
| Rake deep their sulphur’d sides, disgorging here his heaven. | 170 |
| He spoke; they waited, till the fervid ray | |
| High from the noontide shot the faithless day; | |
| When lo, far gathering under eastern skies, | |
| Solemn and slow, the dark red vapors rise; | |
| Full clouds, convolving on the turbid air, | 175 |
| Move like an ocean to the watry war. | |
| The host, securely raised, no dangers harm, | |
| They sit unclouded and o’erlook the storm; | |
| While far beneath, the sky-borne waters ride, | |
| Veil the dark deep and sheet the mountain’s side; | 180 |
| The lightning’s glancing fires in fury curl’d | |
| Bend their long forky foldings o’er the world; | |
| Torrents and broken crags and floods of rain | |
| From steep to steep roll down their force amain | |
| In dreadful cataracts; the bolts confound | 185 |
| The tumbling clouds, and rock the solid ground. | |
| The blasts unburden’d take their upward course, | |
| And o’er the mountain top resume their force. | |
| Swift through the long white ridges from the north, | |
| The rapid whirlwinds lead their terrors forth; | 190 |
| High walks the storm, the circling surges rise, | |
| And wild gyrations wheel the hovering skies; | |
| Vast hills of snow, in sweeping columns driven, | |
| Deluge the air and choke the void of heaven; | |
| Floods burst their bounds, the rocks forget their place, | 195 |
| And the firm Andes tremble to their base. | |
| Long gazed the host; when thus the stubborn chief, | |
| With eyes on fire, and fill’d with sullen grief: | |
| Behold thy careless god, secure on high, | |
| Laughs at our woes and peaceful walks the sky, | 200 |
| Drives all his evils on these seats sublime, | |
| And wafts his favors to a happier clime; | |
| Sire of the dastard race, thy words disclose, | |
| There glads his children, here afflicts his foes. | |
| Hence! speed thy flight! pursue him where he leads, | 205 |
| Lest vengeance seize thee for thy father’s deeds, | |
| Thy immolated limbs assuage the fire | |
| Of those curst powers, who now a gift require. | |
| The youth in haste collects his scanty train | |
| And with the sun flies o’er the western plain; | 210 |
| The fading orb with plaintive voice he plies, | |
| To guide his steps and light him down the skies. | |
| So when the moon and all the host of even | |
| Hang pale and trembling on the verge of heaven, | |
| While storms ascending threat their nightly reign, | 215 |
| They seek their absent sire and sink below the main. | |
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