PERUVIAN TALES.

PERUVIAN TALES .

ALZIRA . TALE I.

Description of Peru , and of its Productions — Virtues of the People ; and of their Monarch , ATALIBA — His love for ALZIRA — Their Nuptials celebrated — Character of ZORAI , her Father — Descent of the Genius of Peru — Prediction of the Fall of that Empire .

WHERE the Pacific deep in silence laves The western shore , with slow , and languid waves , There , lost PERUVIA ! bloom'd thy cultur'd bowers , Thy vallies fragrant with perennial flowers ; There , far above , the Pine unbending rose , Along the pathway of thy mountain snows ; The Palms fling high in air their feather'd heads , While each broad leaf an ample shadow spreads ; The Orange , and the rich Ananas bloom , And humid Balsams ever shed perfume ; The Bark , reviving shrub ! Ah , not in vain Thy rosy blossoms tinge PERUVIA'S plain ; Ye fost'ring gales around those blossoms blow , Ye balmy dew-drops o'er the tendrils flow ! Lo , as the health-diffusing plant aspires , Disease relents , and hov'ring death retires ; Affection sees new lustre light the eye , And feels her vanish'd peace again is nigh . The Pacas , The Paca is a domestic animal of Peru . and Vicunnas The Vicunna is a species of wild goat sport around , And the meek Lamas The Lamas are employed as mules in carrying burdens . , burden'd , press the ground . The Mocking-bird his varying note essays , And charms the grove with imitative lays ; The plaintive Humming-bird unfolds his wing Of vivid plumage to the ray of spring ; Then sinks , soft burthen , on the humid flower , His food , the dewdrops of the morning hour . Nor less , PERUVIA , for thy favour'd clime , The Virtues rose unsullied and sublime ; There melting Charity , with ardour warm , Spreads her wide mantle o'er the shiv'ring form ; Cheer'd with the festal song her rural toils , While in the lap of age she pour'd the spoils ; The people cheerfully assisted in reaping those fields of which the produce was given to old persons past their labour . There the mild Inca , ATALIBA sway'd , His high behest the willing heart obey'd ; Descendant of a scepter'd , sacred race , Whose origin from glowing suns they trace . Love's soft emotions now his soul possest , And fix'd ALZIRA'S image in his breast . In that blest clime affection never knew A selfish purpose , or a thought untrue ; Not as on Europe's shore , where wealth and pride , From mourning love the venal breast divide ; Yet Love , if there from sordid shackles free , One faithful bosom yet belongs to thee ; On that fond heart the purest bliss bestow , Or give , for thou canst give , a charm to woe ; Ah , never may that heart in vain deplore The pang that tortures when belov'd no more . And from that agony the spirit save , When unrelenting yawns th' untimely grave ; When death dissolves the ties for ever dear , When frantic passion pours her parting tear ; With all the wasting pains she only feels , Hangs on the quiv'ring lip that silence seals ; Views fondness struggling in the closing eye , And marks it mingling in the falt'ring sigh ; As the lov'd form , while folded to her breast , Breathes the last moan that gives its struggles rest ; Leaves her to pine in grief that none can share , And find the world a desert to despair . Bright was the lustre of the orient ray That joyful wak'd ALZIRA'S nuptial day ; Her auburn hair spread loosely on the wind , The virgin train with rosy chaplets bind ; While the fresh flowers that form her bridal wreathe Seem deeper hues and richer scents to breathe . The gentle tribe now sought the hallow'd fane , Where warbling vestals pour'd the choral strain ; There aged ZORAI his ALZIRA prest , With love parental , to his anxious breast ; Priest of the Sun ! within the sacred shrine His fervent spirit breath'd the strain divine ; With careful hand the guiltless off'ring spread , With pious zeal the clear libation shed . Nor vain the incense of erroneous praise When meek devotion's soul the tribute pays ; On wings of purity behold it rise , While bending mercy wafts it to the skies ! PERUVIA ! O delightful land in vain The virtues flourish'd on thy beauteous plain ; For soon shall burst the unrelenting storm O'er thy mild head , and crush thy prostrate form ! Recording Fame shall mark thy desp'rate fate , And distant ages weep for ills so great ! Now o'er the deep dull Night her mantle flung , Dim on the wave the moon's faint crescent hung ; PERUVIA'S Genius sought the liquid plain , Sooth'd by the languid murmurs of the main ; When sudden clamour the illusion broke , Wild on the surface of the deep it spoke ; A rising breeze expands her flowing veil , Aghast with fear , she spies a flying sail — The lofty mast impends , the banner waves , The ruffled surge th' incumbent vessel laves ; With eager eye she views her destin'd foe Lead to her peaceful shores th' advent'rous prow ; Trembling she knelt , with wild , disorder'd air , And pour'd with frantic energy her prayer : " O , ye avenging spirits of the deep ! Mount the blue lightning's wing , o'er ocean sweep ; Loud from your central caves the shell resound , That summons death to your abyss profound ; Call the pale spectre from his dark abode , To print the billow , swell the black'ning flood , Rush o'er the waves , the rough'ning deep deform , Howl in the blast , and animate the storm — Relentless powers ! for not one quiv'ring breeze Has ruffled yet the surface of the seas — Swift from your rocky steeps ye Condors The Condor is an inhabitant of the Andes . Its wings , when expanded , are said to be eighteen feet wide . stray , Wave your black plumes , and cleave th' aerial way ; Proud in terrific force your wings expand , Press the firm earth , and darken all the strand ; Bid the stern foe retire with wild affright , And shun the region veil'd in partial night . Vain hope , devoted land ! I read thy doom , My sad prophetic soul can pierce the gloom ; I see , I see my lov'd , my favour'd clime Consum'd , and wasted in its early prime . But not in vain this beauteous land shall bleed , Too late shall Europe's race deplore the deed . Region abhorr'd ! be gold the tempting bane , The curse that desolates thy hostile plain ; May pleasure tinge with venom'd drops the bowl , And luxury unnerve the sick'ning soul . " Ah , not in vain she pour'd th' impassion'd tear ; Ah , not in vain she call'd the powers to hear ! When borne from lost PERUVIA'S bleeding land , The guilty treasures beam'd on Europe's strand ; Each sweet affection fled the tainted shore , And virtue wander'd , to return no more .

ALZIRA . TALE II .

PIZARRO lands with the Forces — His meeting with ATALIBA — Its unhappy consequences — ZORAI dies — ATALIBA imprisoned , and strangled — Despair of ALZIRA .

FLUSH'D with impatient hope , the martial band , By stern PIZARRO led , approach the land ; No terrors arm his hostile brow , for guile Seeks to betray with candour's open smile . Too artless for distrust , the Monarch springs To meet his latent foe on friendship's wings . On as he moves , with dazzling splendour crown'd , His feather'd chiefs the golden throne surround ; The waving canopy its plume displays , Whose waving hues reflect the morning rays ; With native grace he hails the warrior train , Who stood majestic on PERUVIA'S plain , In all the savage pomp of armour drest , The frowning helmet , and the nodding crest . Yet themes of joy PIZARRO'S lips impart , And charm with eloquence the simple heart ; Unfolding to the monarch's wond'ring thought All that inventive arts the rude have taught . And now he bids the musing spirit rise Above the circle of surrounding skies ; Presents the page that sheds Religion's light O'er the dark mist of intellectual night : While , thrill'd with awe , the monarch trembling stands , He dropp'd the hallow'd volume from his hands . Sudden , Pizarro , who during a long conference had with difficulty restrained his soldiers , eager to seize the rich spoils of which they had now so near a view , immediately gave the signal of assault . At once the martial music struck up , the cannon and muskets began to fire , the horse sallied out fiercely to the charge , the infantry rushed on sword in hand . The Peruvians , astonished at the suddenness of an attack which they did not expect , and dismayed with the destructive effects of the fire-arms , fled with universal consternation on every side . Pizarro , at the head of his chosen band , advanced directly towards the Inca ; and though his nobles crowded around him with officious zeal , and fell in numbers at his feet , while they vied one with another in sacrificing their own lives that they might cover the sacred person of their sovereign , the Spaniards soon penetrated to the royal seat ; and Pizarro , seizing the Inca by the arm , dragged him to the ground , and carried him a prisoner to his quarters . Robertson's History of America . while frantic zeal each breast inspires , And shudd'ring demons fan the rising fires , The bloody signal waves , the banners play , The naked sabres flash their streaming ray ; The trumpet rolls its animating sound , And the loud cannon rend the vault around ; While fierce in sanguine rage , the sons of Spain Rush on Peru's unarm'd , defenceless train ! The fiends of slaughter urg'd their dire career , And virtue's guardian spirits dropped a tear ! Mild ZORAI fell , deploring human strife , And clos'd with prayer his consecrated life ! — In vain PERUVIA'S chiefs undaunted stood , Shield their lov'd Prince , and bathe his robes in blood ; — Touch'd with heroic ardour , cling around , And high of soul , receive each fatal wound ; Dragg'd from his throne , and hurried o'er the plain , The wretched Monarch swells the captive train ; With iron grasp the frantic Prince they bear , And feel their triumph in his wild despair . — Deep in the gloomy dungeon's lone domain , Lost ATALIBA wore the galling chain ; The earth's cold bed refus'd oblivious rest , While throbb'd the woes of thousands at his breast ; ALZIRA'S desolating moan he hears , And with the monarch's blends the lover's tears . Soon had ALZIRA felt affliction's dart Pierce her soft soul , and rend her bleeding heart ; Its quick pulsations paus'd , and chill'd with dread , A livid hue her fading cheek o'erspread ; No tear the mourner shed , she breath'd no sigh , Her lips were mute , and clos'd her languid eye ; Fainter , and slower heav'd her shiv'ring breast , And her calm'd passions seem'd in death to rest . — At length reviv'd , 'mid rising heaps of slain , She prest with hurried step the crimson plain ; The dungeon's gloomy depth she fearless sought , For love with scorn of danger arm'd her thought : She reach'd the cell where ATALIBA lay , Where human vultures haste to seize their prey . — In vain her treasur'd wealth PERUVIA gave , This dearer treasure from their grasp to save ; ALZIRA ! lo , the ruthless murd'rers come , This moment seals thy ATALIBA'S doom . Ah , what avails the shriek that anguish pours ? The look that mercy's lenient aid implores ? Torn from thy clinging arms , thy throbbing breast , The fatal cord his agony supprest ! — In vain the livid corpse she firmly clasps , And pours her sorrows o'er the form she grasps , The murd'rers soon their struggling victim tear From the lost object of her soul's despair ! The swelling pang unable to sustain , Distraction throbb'd in every beating vein ; Its sudden tumults seize her yielding soul , And in her eye distemper'd glances roll — " They come ! " the mourner cried with panting breath , " To give the lost ALZIRA rest in death ! One moment more , ye bloody forms , bestow , One moment more for ever cares my woe — Lo ! where the purple evening sheds her light On blest remains ! O ! hide them , pitying night ! Slow in the breeze I see the verdure wave , That shrouds with tufted grass my lover's grave ; Hark ! on its wand'ring wing in mildness blows The murm'ring gale , nor wakes his deep repose — And see , yon hoary form still lingers there ! Dishevell'd by rude winds his silver hair ; O'er his chill'd bosom falls the winter rain , I feel the big drops on my wither'd brain . Not for himself that tear his bosom steeps , For his lost child it flows — for me he weeps ! No more the dagger's point shall pierce thy breast , For calm and lovely is thy silent rest ; Yet still in dust these eyes shall see thee roll , Still the sad thought shall waste ALZIRA'S soul — What bleeding phantom moves along the storm ? It is my ATALIBA'S well-known form ! Approach ! ALZIRA'S breast no terrors move , Her fears are all for ever lost in love . Safe on the hanging cliff I now can rest , And press its pointed pillow to my breast — He weeps ! in heaven he weeps ! — I feel his tear — It chills my trembling heart , yet still 'tis dear . To him all joyless are the realms above , That pale look speaks of pity and of love ! Ah come , descend in yonder bending cloud , And wrap ALZIRA in thy misty shroud ! " As roll'd her wand'ring glances wild around , She snatch'd a reeking sabre from the ground ; Firmly her lifted hand the weapon prest , And deep she plung'd it in her panting breast ! " 'Tis but a few short moments that divide " — She falt'ring said — then sunk on earth and died !

ZILIA . TALE III .

PIZARRO takes possession of Cuzco — The fanaticism of VALVERDA , a Spanish priest — Its dreadful effects — A Peruvian priest put to the torture — His Daughter's distress — He is rescued by LAS CASAS , a Spanish ecclesiastic — And led to a place of safety , where he dies — His Daughter's narration of her sufferings — Her death .

Now stern PIZARRO seeks the distant plains , Where beauteous Cuzco lifts her golden fanes . The meek Peruvians gaz'd in wild dismay , Nor barr'd the dark Oppressor's sanguine way ; And soon on Cuzco , where the dawning light 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 , That lustre sickens , and those blossoms fade . And yet , devoted land , not gold alone , Or dire ambition wak'd thy rising groan ; For lo ! a fiercer fiend , with joy elate , Feasts on thy suff'rings , and impels thy fate : Fanatic Fury rears her sullen shrine , 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 ; Her voice is thunder rending the still air , Her glance the baleful lightning's lurid glare ; Her lips unhallow'd breathe their impious strain , And pure Religion's sacred voice profane ; Whose precepts pity's mildest deeds approve , Whose law is mercy , and whose soul is love . And see , fanatic Fury wakes the storm — She wears the stern VALVERDA'S hideous form ; His bosom never felt another's woes , No shriek of anguish breaks its dark repose . 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 God ; See , to his aid his child , soft ZILIA , springs , And steeps in tears the robe to which she clings ! Now bursting from PERUVIA'S frighted throng , Two warlike youths impetuous rush'd along ; One grasp'd his twanging bow with furious air , While in his troubled eye sat fierce despair ; But all in vain his erring weapon flies , Pierc'd by a thousand wounds , on earth he lies . His drooping head the trembling ZILIA rais'd , And on the youth in speechless anguish gaz'd ; While he who fondly shared his danger flew , And from his bleeding breast a poignard 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 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 , Caught the light pleasure and the passing tear ; Thy friendship then my young affections blest The first pure passion of my infant breast ; 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 , Pour'd these last 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 ; He bends his gloomy brow — his lips impart The brooding purpose of his venom'd heart ; He bids the hoary priest in mutter'd strains Abjure his faith , forsake his native fanes , While yet the ling'ring pangs of torture wait , While yet VALVERDA'S power suspends his fate . " Vain man , " the victim cried , " to hoary 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 . " He ceas'd — with rugged cords his limbs they bound , And drag the aged suff'rer on the ground ; They grasp his feeble frame , his tresses tear ; His robe they rend , his shrivell'd bosom bare . Ah , see his uncomplaining soul sustain The sting of insult and the dart of pain ! His stedfast spirit feels one pang alone , A child's despair awakes one bitter groan — The mourner kneels to catch his parting breath , To soothe the agony of ling'ring death : 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 ; Pure spirit ! claim not yet thy kindred skies ; A pitying angel comes to stay thy flight , LAS CASAS LAS CASAS , that admirable ecclesiastic , who obtained by his humanity the title of Protector of the Indies . bids thee view returning light ; Ah , let that sacred drop , to virtue dear , Efface thy wrongs — receive his precious tear ; 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 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 ; 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 , 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 hurried step he flew , with eager hands He broke the fetters , burst the cruel bands . 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 , " — — — on his crest Sat horror plum'd . " Par. Lost xiv , 988. The form of virtue as she stood confest ; So fierce VALVERDA sullen mov'd along , Abash'd , and follow'd by the hostile throng . At length the hoary victim , freed from chains , LAS CASAS gently leads to safer plains ; His searching eye explores a secret cave , Whose shaggy sides the languid billows lave ; " There rest secure , " he cried , " the Christian's God Will hover near , will guard the lone abode . " Oft to the gloomy cell his steps repair , 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 to bliss that dwells beyond the skies . Yet ah ! in vain his pious cares would save The aged 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 CASAS' hand he prest , He faintly clasp'd his ZILIA to his breast ; Then cried , " the God , whom now my vows adore , My heart through life obey'd , unknowing more ; His mild forgiveness then my soul shall prove , His mercy share , LAS CASAS' God is love . " He spoke no more , his ZILIA'S hopeless 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 , 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 ; Seek not the victim of despair to save , I ask but death — I only wish a grave . Witness , thou mangled form , that earth retains , Witness a murder'd lover's cold remains ; I liv'd my father's pangs to soothe , to share , I bore to live , though life was all despair . Ah ! still my lover's dying moan I hear , In every pulse I feel his parting tear — I faint — an icy coldness chills each vein , 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 God in mercy gave , To soothe my pangs , to find the wretch a grave . " 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 th' unconscious dead ; I view the sanguine flood , the wasting flame , I hear a suff'ring world LAS CASAS claim .

CORA . TALE IV .

ALMAGRO'S expedition to Chili — His troops suffer great hardships from cold , in crossing the Andes — They reach Chili — The Chilians make a brave resistance — The revolt of the Peruvians in Cuzco — They are led on by MANCO CAPAC , the successor of ATALIBA — 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 — They divide into two bands — ALPHONSO leads the second band , which soon reaches a fertile valley — The Spaniards observe that the natives are employed in searching the streams for gold — They resolve to attack them .

Now the stern partner of PIZARRO'S toils , ALMAGRO , lur'd by hope of golden spoils , To distant Chili's ever-verdant meads , Through paths untrod , a band of warriors leads ; O'er the high Andes' frozen steeps they go , 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 ; At length they reach luxuriant Chili's plain , Where ends the dreary bound of winter's reign . When first the brave Chilese , with eager glance , Beheld the hostile sons of Spain advance , Their threat'ning sabres red with purple streams , Their lances quiv'ring in the solar beams , With pale surprise they saw th' impending storm , Where low'ring danger wore 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 , And meet intrepid the superior foe . Long unsubdued by stern ALMAGRO'S train , Their valiant tribes unequal fight maintain ; Long vict'ry hover'd doubtful o'er the field , And oft she forc'd IBERIA'S band to yield ; Oft love 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 There yet remain'd a youth of blooming grace , Who pin'd , the captive of relentless Spain , And long in Cuzco dragg'd her galling chain ; CAPAC , whose lofty soul indignant bears The rankling fetters , and revenge prepares . 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 , Then on the victors rise with latent force , As sudden from its cloud , the brooding storm , Bursts in the thunder's voice , the light'ning's form . For this , from stern PIZARRO he obtains The boon , enlarg'd , to seek the neighb'ring plains , For one bless'd day , and with his friend's unite , To crown with solemn pomp an antient 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 , Far other purpose animates his breast : For now PERUVIA'S Nobles he commands To lead , with silent step , her martial bands Forth to the destin'd spot , prepared to dare The fiercest shock of dire , unequal war ; While every sacred 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 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 ; — I go , but soon exulting shall return , And bid my faithful CORA cease to mourn ; For O , 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 , And shed new fragrance o'er a path of flowers : But sure divided sorrow more endears The tie that passion seals with mutual tears ! He paus'd . Fast-flowing drops bedew'd her eyes , While thus in mournful accents she replies : — " Still let me feel the pressure of thy chain , Still share the fetters which my love detain ; The piercing iron to my soul is dear , Nor will its sharpness wound while thou art near . Look on our helpless babe , in mis'ry nurst — My child ! my child , thy mother's heart will burst ! O , wherefore bid the raging battle rise , Nor hear this harmless suff'rer's feeble cries ? Look on those blades that pour a crimson flood , And plunge their cruel edge in infant blood ! " She could no more — he sees with tender pain Her grief , and leads her to a shelt'ring fane . Now high in air his feather'd standard waves , And soon from shrouding woods and hollow caves To Cuzco's gate advance increasing throngs , And , such their ardour , rous'd by sense of wrongs , That vainly would PIZARRO'S vet'ran force Arrest the torrent in its raging course ; Danger and death PERUVIA'S sons disdain , And half their captive city soon regain . When stern ALMAGRO heard the voice of fame The triumphs of PERUVIA loud proclaim , Unconquer'd Chili's vale he swift forsakes , And his bold course to distant Cuzco takes . But now he shuns the Andes' frozen snows , The arrowy gale that on their summit blows ; A burning desert undismay'd he past , And meets the ardors of the fiery blast . As o'er the sultry waste they slowly move , The keenest pang of raging thirst they prove ; No cooling fruit its grateful juice distils , Nor flows one balmy drop from crystal rills ; For nature sickens in the parching 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 . 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 desert half his train — " And search , " he cried , " this vast , untrodden plain , Perchance some fruitage , with'ring in the breeze , The pains of lessen'd numbers may appease ; Or heaven in pity from some genial shower On the parch'd lip one precious drop may pour . " 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 snowy summit flings ; Where summer's flowers humected odours shed , And wildly bloom , a waste by beauty spread . And now ALPHONSO and his martial band On the rich border of the valley stand ; They quaff the limpid stream with eager haste , And the pure juice that swells the fruitage taste ; Then give to balmy rest the night's still hours , Fann'd by the cooling gale that shuts the flowers . Soon as the purple beam of morning glows , Refresh'd from all their toils , the warriors rose ; 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 The tempting lure , then breathe th' unpitying vow O'er those fair lawns to pour a sanguine flood , And dye those lucid streams with guiltless blood . Thus while the humming-bird , in beauty drest , Enchanting offspring of the ardent west , Attunes his tender song to notes of love , Mild as the murmurs of the morning dove , While his rich plumage glows with brighter hues , And with soft bill he sips the scented dews , The savage condor on terrific wings , From Andes' frozen steeps relentless springs ; And , quiv'ring in his fangs , his helpless prey Drops his weak wing , and sighs his soul away .

ACILOE . TALE V.

Character of ZAMOR , a bard — His passion 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 .

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 strain where art Has never veil'd the soul , or warp'd the heart ; Where fancy glows with all her native fire , And passion lives on the exulting lyre . Nature , in terror rob'd or beauty dreast , Could thrill with dear enchantment ZAMOR'S breast ; He lov'd the languid sigh the zephyr pours , He lov'd the placid rill that feeds the flowers — But more the hollow sound the wild winds form , When black upon the billow hangs the storm ; The torrent rolling from the mountain steep , Its white foam trembling on the darken'd deep — And oft on Andes' heights with earnest 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 . Oft his wild warblings charm'd the festal hour , Rose in the vale , and languish'd in the bower ; The heart's reponsive tones he well could move , Whose song was nature , and whose theme was love . ACILOE'S beauties his fond soul confest , Yet more ACILOE'S virtues warm'd his breast . Ah stay , ye tender hours of young delight , Suspend , ye moments , your impatient flight ; Prolong the charm when passion's pure controul Unfolds the first affections of the soul ! This gentle tribe ACILOE'S sire obey'd , 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 ; But virtue's calm remembrance cheer'd his breast , And life was joy serene , and death was rest : Bright is the blushing Summer's glowing ray , Yet not unlovely Autumn's temper'd day . Now stern IBERIA'S ruthless sons advance , Roll the fierce eye , and shake the pointed lance . PERUVIA'S tribe behold the hostile throng With desolating fury pour along ; The hoary chief to the dire conflict leads His death-devoted train — the battle bleeds . ACILOE'S searching eye can now no more The form of ZAMOR or her sire explore ; While destin'd all the bitterness to prove Of anxious duty and of mourning love , 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 ! 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 ; 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 . But O , how far each other pang above Throbs the wild agony of hopeless love ! That woe , for which in vain would comfort shed Her healing balm , or time in pity spread The veil that throws a shade o'er other care , For here , and here alone , profound despair Casts o'er the suff'ring soul a lasting gloom , And slowly leads her victim to the tomb . Now rude tumultuous sounds assail her ear , And soon ALPHONSO'S victor train appear ; Then , as with ling'ring step he mov'd along , She saw her father 'mid the captive throng ; She saw with dire dismay , she wildly flew , Her snowy arms around his form she threw ; — " He bleeds ! " she cries ; " I hear his moan of pain ! My father will not bear the galling chain ! Cruel ALPHONSO , let not helpless age Feel thy hard yoke , and meet thy barb'rous rage ; Or , O , if ever mercy mov'd thy soul , If ever thou hast felt her blest controul , Grant my sad heart's desire , and let me share The fetters which a father ill can bear . " While the young warrior , as she falt'ring spoke , With fix'd attention and with ardent look Hung on her tender glance , that love inspires , The rage of conquest yields to milder fires . Yet as he gaz'd enraptur'd on her form , Her virtues awe the heart her beauties warm ; And while impassion'd tones his love reveal , He asks with holy rites his vows to seal . " Hops't thou , " she cried , " those sacred ties shall join This bleeding heart , this trembling hand to thine ? To thine , whose ruthless heart has caus'd my pains , Whose barb'rous hand the blood of ZAMOR stains ! Canst thou , the murd'rer of my peace , controul The grief that swells , the pang that rends my soul ? — That pang shall death , shall death alone remove , And cure the anguish of despairing love . " At length , to madness stung by fixed disdain , ALPHONSO now to fury gives the rein ; And with relentless mandate dooms her sire , Stretch'd on the bed of torture to expire ; But O , what form of language can impart The frantic grief that wrung ACILOE'S heart ! When to the height of hopeless sorrow wrought , The fainting spirit feels a pang of thought , Which , never painted in the hues of speech , Lives at the soul , and mocks expression's reach ! At length she falt'ring cried , " the conflict's o'er , My heart , my breaking heart can bear no more ! Yet spare his feeble age — my vows receive , And O , in mercy bid my father live ! " " Wilt thou be mine ? " th' enamour'd chief replies — " Yes , cruel ! — see , he dies ! my father dies ! — Save , save my father ! " — " Dear , unhappy maid , " The charm'd ALPHONSO cried , " be swift obey'd — Unbind his chains — Ah , calm each anxious pain , ACILOE'S voice no more shall plead in vain ; Plac'd near his child , thy aged sire shall share Our joys , still cherished by thy tender care . " — " No more , " she cried , " will fate that bliss allow ; Before my lips shall breathe the impartial vow , Some faithful guide shall lead his aged feet To distant scenes that yield a safe retreat ; Where some soft heart , some gentle hand will shed The drops of comfort on his hoary head . My ZAMOR , if thy spirit hovers near , Forgive ! " — she ceas'd , and shed no more a tear . Now night descends , and steeps each weary breast , Save sad ACILOE'S , in the balm of rest . Her aged father's beauteous dwelling stood Near the cool shelter of a waving wood ; But now the gales that bend its foliage die , Soft on the silver turf its shadows lie ; While slowly wand'ring o'er the vale below , The gazing moon look'd pale as silent woe . The sacred shade , amid whose fragrant bowers ZAMOR oft sooth'd with song the evening hours , Pour'd to the lunar orb his magic lay , More mild , more pensive than her musing ray , That shade with trembling step the mourner sought , And thus she breath'd her tender , plaintive thought : — " Ah where , dear object of these piercing pains , Where rests thy murder'd form , thy Lov'd remains ? On what sad spot , my ZAMOR , flow'd the wound That purpled with thy streaming blood the ground ? O , had ACILOE in that hour been nigh , Hadst thou but fix'd on me thy closing eye , — Told with faint voice , 'twas death's worst pang to part , And dropp'd thy last cold tear upon my heart ! A pang less bitter then would waste this breast , That in the grave alone shall seek its rest . Soon as some friendly hand in mercy leads My aged father safe to Chili's meads , Death shall for ever seal the nuptial tie , The heart belov'd by thee is fix'd to die . " — She ceas'd , when dimly thro' her flowing tears She sees her ZAMOR'S form , his voice she hears . " 'Tis he ! " she cries , " he moves upon the gale ! My ZAMOR'S sigh is deep — his look is pale — I faint — " his arms receive her sinking frame , — He calls his love by every tender name ; He stays her fleeting spirit — life anew Warms her cold cheek — his tears her cheek bedew . " Thy ZAMOR lives , " he cried : " as on the ground I senseless lay , some child of pity bound My bleeding wounds , and bore me from the plain , — But thou art lost , and I have liv'd in vain ! " " Forgive , " she cried , in accents of despair , ZAMOR , forgive thy wrongs , and O forbear , The mild reproach that fills thy mournful eye , The tear that wets thy cheek — I mean to die . Could I behold my aged sire endure The pains his wretched child had power to cure ? Still , still my father , stretch'd in death , I see , His grey locks trembling while he gaz'd on me ; My ZAMOR , soft , breathe not so loud a sigh , Some list'ning foe may pityless deny This parting hour — hark , sure some step I hear , ZAMOR again is lost — for now 'tis near . " — She paus'd , when sudden from the shelt'ring wood A venerable form before them stood : " Fear not , soft maid , " he cried , " nor think I come To seal with deeper miseries thy doom ; To bruise the broken heart that sorrow rends , Ah , not for this LAS CASAS hither bends — He comes to bid those rising sorrows cease , To pour upon thy wounds the balm of peace . I rov'd with dire ALMAGRO'S ruthless train , Through scenes of death , to Chili's verdant plain ; Their wish to bathe that verdant plain in gore , Then from its bosom drag the golden ore : But mine to check the stream of human blood , Or mingle drops of pity with the flood ; When from those fair , unconquered vales they fled This languid frame was stretch'd upon the bed Of pale disease ; when , helpless and alone , The Chilese 'spied their friend , the murd'rers gone , With eager fondness round my couch they drew , And my cold hand with gushing tears bedew ; By day they soothe my pains with sweet delight , And give to watchings the dull hours of night ; For me their gen'rous bosoms joy to prove The cares of pity , and the toils of love — At length for me the pathless wild they trac'd , And softly bore me o'er its dreary waste ; Then parting , at my feet they bend , and clasp These aged knees — my soul yet feels their grasp ! Now o'er the vale with painful step I stray'd , And reach this shelt'ring grove ; here , hapless maid , My list'ning ear has caught thy piercing wail , My heart has trembled to thy moving tale . " — " And art thou he ? " the mournful pair exclaim , " How dear to mis'ry's soul LAS CASAS' name ! Spirit benign , who every grief can share , Whose pity stoops to make the wretch its care , Weep not for us — in vain thy tears shall flow For cureless evils , and for hopeless woe ! " — " Come , " he replied , " mild suff'rers , to the fane Where rests ALPHONSO with his martial train ; My voice shall urge his soul to gen'rous deeds , And bid him hear when truth and nature pleads . " While in meek tones LAS CASAS thus exprest His pious purpose , o'er ACILOE'S breast A dawning ray of cheering comfort streams , But faint the hope that on her spirit beams ; Faint as when ebbing life must soon depart , The pulse that trembles while it warms the heart . Before ALPHONSO now the lovers stand , The aged suff'rer joined the mournful band ; While , with the look that guardian seraphs wear , When sent to calm the throbs of mortal care , The story of their woes LAS CASAS told , Then cried , " the wretched ZAMOR here behold — Hop'st thou , fond man , a passion to controul Fix'd in the breast , and woven in the soul ? Ah , know , mistaken youth , thy power in vain Would bind thy victim in the nuptial chain ; That faithful heart will rend the galling tie , That heart will break , that tender frame will die ! Then , by each sacred name to nature dear , By faithful passion's agonizing tear , By all the wasting pangs that tear her breast , By the deep groan that gives the suff'rer rest , Let mercy's pleading voice thy bosom move , And fear to burst the bonds of plighted love ! " He paus'd — now ZAMOR'S moan ALPHONSO hears ; Now sees the cheek of age bedew'd with tears . Pallid and motionless ACILOE stands , Fix'd was her lifted eye , and clasp'd her hands ; Her heart was chill'd — her fainting heart — for there Hope slowly sinks in cold and dark despair . ALPHONSO'S soul was mov'd — " No more , " he cried , " My hapless flame shall hearts like yours divide . Live , tender spirit , soft ACILOE live , And all the wrongs of madd'ning rage forgive ! Go from this desolated region far , These plains , where av'rice spreads the waste of war ; Go where pure pleasures gild the peaceful scene , Go where mild virtue sheds her ray serene ! " In vain th' enraptur'd lovers would impart The rising joy that swells , that pains the heart ; LAS CASAS' feet in tears ACILOE steeps , Looks on her sire and smiles , then turns and weeps ; Then smiles again , while her flush'd cheek reveals The mingled tumult of delight she feels ; — So fall the crystal showers of fragrant Spring , And o'er the pure , clear sky , soft-shadows fling ; Then paint the drooping clouds from which they flow With the warm colours of the lucid bow . Now o'er the barren desert ZAMOR leads ACILOE and her sire to Chili's meads ; There many a wand'ring wretch , condemn'd to roam By hard oppression , found a shelt'ring home : ZAMOR to pity tun'd the vocal shell , Bright'ning the tear of anguish as it fell . Did e'er the human bosom throb with pain The heav'nly muse has sought to soothe in vain ? She , who can still with harmony its sighs , And wake the sound at which affection dies !

CORA . TALE VI .

The troops of ALMAGRO and ALPHONSO meet on the plain of CUZCO — . MANCO — CAPAC attacks them by nights — His army is defeated , and he is forced to fly with its scattered remains — CORA goes in search of him — Her infant in her arms — Overcome with fatigue , she rests at the foot of a mountain — An earthquake — A band of Indians fly to the mountain for shelter — CORA discovers her husband — Their interview — Her death — He escapes with his infant — ALMAGRO claims a share of the spoils of Cuzco — His contention with PIZARRO — The Spaniards destroy each other — ALMAGRO is taken prisoner , and put to death — His soldiers , in revenge , assassinate PIZARRO in his palace — LAS CASAS dies — The annual festival of the PERUVIANS — Their victories over the Spaniards in Chili — A wish for the restoration of their liberty — Conclusion .

AT length ALMAGRO and ALPHONSO'S train , Each peril past , unite on Cuzco's plain ; CAPAC resolves beneath the shroud of night To pierce the hostile camp , and brave the fight ; Though weak the wrong'd PERUVIANS' arrowy showers To the dire weapons stern IBERIA pours , Fierce was th' unequal contest , for the soul , When rais'd by some high passion's strong controul , New strings the nerves , and o'er the glowing frame Breathes the warm spirit of heroic flame . But from the scene where raging slaughter burns , The timid muse with silent horror turns ; The blended sounds of grief she panting hears , Where anguish dims a mother's eye with tears ; Or where the maid , who gave to love's soft power Her faithful spirit , weeps the parting hour ; And O , till death shall ease the tender woe , That soul must languish , and those tears must flow ; For never with the thrill that rapture proves , Her voice again shall hail the youth she loves ! Her earnest eye no more his form shall view , Her quiv'ring lip has breath'd the last adieu ! Now night , that pour'd upon the hollow gale The din of battle , dropp'd her mournful veil . The sun rose lovely from the sleeping flood , And morning glitter'd o'er the field of blood ; Where , bath'd in gore , PERUVIA'S vanquish'd train Lay cold and senseless on the sanguine plain . The gen'rous CAPAC saw his warriors yield , And fled indignant from the conquer'd field . A wretched throng from Cuzco now repair , Who tread 'mid slaughter'd heaps in mute despair ; O'er some lov'd corse the shroud of earth to spread , And breathe some ritual that may soothe the dead . No moan was heard , for agony supprest The fond complaints which ease the swelling breast ; Each hope for ever lost , they only crave The deep repose that wraps the shelt'ring grave : — So the meek lama , lur'd by some decoy Of man , from all his unembitter'd joy , Erewhile as free as roves the wand'ring breeze , Meets the hard burden on his bending knees ; The Lamas bend their knees and stoop their body in such a manner as not to discompose their burden . They move with a slow but firm pace , in countries that are impracticable to other animals . They are neither dispirited by fasting or drudgery , while they have any strength remaining ; but when they are totally exhausted , or fall under their burdens , it is to no purpose to harass and beat them , they will continue striking their heads on the ground till they kill themselves , Raynal's History of the European Settlements . O'er rocks and mountains , dark and waste he goes , Nor shuns the path where no fresh herbage grows ; Till , worn with toil , on earth he prostrate lies , Heeds not the barb'rous lash , and scornful dies . Swift o'er the field of death sad CORA flew , Her infant to his mother's bosom grew ; She seeks her wretched lord , who fled the plain With the last remnant of his vanquish'd train : Thro' the long glen , or forest's gloomy shade , A dreary solitude , the mourner stray'd ; Her timid heart can now each danger dare , Her drooping soul is arm'd by deep despair — Long , long she wander'd , till oppress'd with toil , Her trembling footsteps track with blood the soil . Where o'er an ample vale a mountain rose , Low at its base her fainting form she throws : " And here , my child , " she cried , with panting breath , " Here let us wait the hour of ling'ring death ; This famish'd bosom can no more supply The streams that nourish life — my babe must die ! In vain I strive to cherish , for thy sake , My failing strength ; but when my heart-strings break , When my cold bosom can no longer warm , My stiff'ning arms no more enfold thy form , Soft on this bed of leaves my child shall sleep — Close to his mother's corse , he will not weep ! O ! weep not then , my tender babe — tho' near , I shall not hear thy moan , nor see thy tear ; Hope not to move me by thy mournful cry , Nor seek with earnest look my answering eye . " As thus the dying CORA'S plaints arose , O'er the fair valley sudden darkness throws A hideous horror ; thro' the wounded air Howl'd the shrill voice of nature in despair ; The birds dart screaming thro' the fluid sky , And , dash'd upon the cliff's hard surface , die ; High o'er their rocky bounds the billows swell , Then to their deep abyss affrighted fell ; Earth groaning heaves with dire convulsive throes , While yawning gulphs its central caves disclose . Now rush'd a frighted throng with trembling pace Along the vale , and sought the mountain's base ; Purpos'd its perilous ascent to gain , And shun the ruin low'ring o'er the plain . They reach'd the spot where CORA clasp'd her child , And gaz'd on present death with aspect wild : They pitying pause — she lifts her mournful eye , And views her lord ! — he hears his CORA'S sigh — He meets her looks — their melting souls unite , O'erwhelmed , and agoniz'd with wild delight . At length she faintly cried , " we yet must part ! Short are these rising joys — I feel my heart , My suff'ring heart is cold , and mists arise , That shroud thy image from my closing eyes ! O , save my child ! — our helpless infant save , And shed a tear upon thy CORA'S grave . " The fluttering pulse of life now ceas'd to play , And in his arms a pallid corse she lay ! O'er her dear form he hung in speechless pain , And still on CORA call'd — but call'd in vain ; Scarce could his soul in one short moment bear The wild extremes of transport and despair . Now o'er the west in melting softness streams A lustre , milder than the morning beams ; A purer dawn dispell'd the fearful night , And nature glow'd in all the blooms of light ; Then first the mourner , waking from his trance , Cast on his smiling babe an eager glance : Then rose the hollow voice on fancy's ear , The parting words he hears , or seems to hear ! That sought with anxious tenderness to save That dear memorial from the closing grave ; He clasps the object of his love's last care , And vows for him the load of life to bear . He journey'd o'er a dreary length of way , To plains where freedom shed her hallow'd ray ; There , o'er the pathless wood , and mountain hoar , His faithful band the lifeless CORA bore : Ye who ne'er pin'd in sorrow's hopeless pain , Deem not the toil that soothes its anguish vain ; Perchance the conscious spirit hovers near , And love's fond tribute to the dead is dear . Not long IBERIA'S sullied trophies wave , Her guilty warriors press th' untimely grave ; For av'rice rising from the caves of earth , Wakes all her savage spirit into birth : Bids proud ALMAGRO feel her baleful flame , And Cuzco's treasures from PIZARRO claim . Now fierce in hostile rage each warlike train . Purple with kindred blood PERUVIA'S plain ; While pensive on the hills , whose lofty brow O'erhung with waving woods the vale below , PERUVIA'S hapless tribes in scatter'd throngs , Behold the fiends of strife avenge their wrongs : Till , fetter'd in PIZARRO'S iron chain , ALMAGRO swells the victor's captive train . In vain his pleading voice , his suppliant eye , Conjure his conqu'ror by the holy tie That seal'd their mutual league with sacred force , When first to climes unknown they bent their course ; When danger's rising horrors low'r'd afar , The storms of ocean , and the toils of war , The sad remains of wasted life to spare , The shrivell'd bosom , and the silver'd hair — ALMAGRO dies — the victor's barb'rous pride To his pale corpse funereal rites denied ; Chill'd by the heavy dews of night it lay , And wither'd in the sultry beam of day ; Till Indian bosoms , touch'd with gen'rous woe , Paid the last duties to a prostrate foe . With unrelenting hate the conqu'ror views ALMAGRO'S band , and vengeance still pursues . Condemns the victims of his power to stray In drooping poverty's chill , thorny way ; To pine with famine's agony severe , And all the ling'ring forms of death to fear ; Till , by despair impell'd , the rival train , Rush to the haughty victor's splendid fane ; Swift on their foe with rage impetuous dart , And plunge their daggers in his guilty heart . How unavailing now the treasur'd ore That made PERUVIA'S rifled bosom poor ! He falls — unpitied , and would vainly buy With ANDES' mines , the tribute of a sigh . Now faint with virtue's toil , LAS CASAS' soul Sought , with exulting hope , her heavenly goal : — But whence descends , in streams of lambent light , That lovely vision on the raptur'd sight ? 'Tis Sensibility ! she stands confest : With trembling step she moves , and panting breast ; To yon deserted grave , lo , swift she flies , Where her lov'd victim , mild LAS CASAS lies ! I see her deck the solitary haunt With chaplets twin'd from every weeping plant : Its odours soft the simple violet shed , The shrinking lily hung its drooping head ; A moaning zephyr sigh'd within the bower , And bent the frail stem of the pliant flower : " Hither , " she cried , her melting tone I hear , It vibrates full on fancy's wakeful ear ; " Ye to whose yielding hearts my power endears , The transport blended with delicious tears , The bliss that swells to agony the breast , The sympathy that robs the soul of rest ; Hither , with fond devotion , pensive come , Kiss the pale shrine , and murmur o'er the tomb ; Bend on the hallow'd turf the tearful eye , And breathe the precious incense of a sigh . LAS CASAS' tear has moisten'd misery's grave , His sigh has moan'd the wretch he fail'd to save ! He , while conflicting pangs his bosom tear , Has sought the lonely cavern of despair , Where desolate she pin'd , and pour'd her thought To the dread verge of wild distraction wrought . While drops of mercy bath'd his hoary cheek , He pour'd , by heav'n inspir'd , its accents meek ; In truth's clear mirror bade the mourner's view Pierce the deep veil which error darkly drew , And vanquish'd empire with a smile resign , While brighter worlds in fair perspective shine . " She paus'd — yet still the sweet enthusiast bends O'er the cold turf , and still her tear descends . Ah , weak PERUVIA ! oft thy murmur'd sighs , Thy stifled groans in fancy's ear arise ; She views , as slow the years of bondage roll , On solemn days The Peruvians have solemn days , on which they assume their ancient dress . Some among them represent a tragedy , the subject of which is the Death of Ataliba ; the audience , who begin with shedding tears , are afterwards transported into a kind of madness : it seldom happens in these festivals but that some Spaniard is slain . — Raynal's History . when sorrow mocks controul , Thy captive sons their antique garb assume , And wake remember'd images of gloom . Lo ! ATALIBA'S murder'd form appears , The mournful object of eternal tears ! Wild o'er the scene indignant glances dart , And pangs convulsive seize the throbbing heart — Distraction soon each burning breast inflames , And from the tyrant foe a victim claims ! But now , dispersing desolation's night , A ray benignant cheers my gladden'd sight ! A blooming Chieftain of Peruvian race , Whose soaring soul its high descent can trace , The feather'd standard rears on Chili's A descendant of the Incas had there reared the feathered standard , and obtained some victories over the Spaniards ; the gold-mines were shut up , and the sound of independence was heard ; but independence and hope soon vanished , and it was reserved for the Bolivars of other days to avenge the wrongs of the Peruvians . It was reserved also for Spain to make at present a noble atonement for the past ! She has raised an expiatory altar to Liberty over the dungeons of the Inquisition : — may it never be thrown down ! May the Old and New World form henceforth an Holy Alliance ! And if liberty be menaced in either , may there always be found a Washington in the New World , and a La Fayette in the Old ! plain , And leads to glorious strife his gen'rous train . And see , IBERIA bleeds ! while Vict'ry twines Her fairest garlands round PERUVIA'S shrines ; The gaping wounds of earth disclose no more The lucid silver , and the blazing ore ; A brighter radiance gilds the passing hour , While Freedom breaks the rod of lawless power ; On Andes' icy steep exulting glows , And prints with rapid step th' eternal snows ; While , roll'd in dust her graceful feet beneath , Fades the dark laurel of IBERIA'S wreath ! — PERU ! the timid muse who mourn'd thy woes , Whom pity robb'd so long of dear repose , The muse whose pensive soul with anguish wrung , Her early lyre for thee has trembling strung ; Shed the vain tear , and breath'd the powerless sigh , Which in oblivion with her song must die ; Pants with the wish thy deeds may rise to fame ; Bright on some high-ton'd harp's immortal frame , While on the string of ecstacy it pours Thy future triumphs o'er unnumber'd shores .