Pelayo

A few bold Patriots, Reliques of the Fight
That crushed the Gothic sovereignty of Spain,
Beneath Pelayo’s guidance urged their flight.
And when their steps had measured [ ] Plain,
Crossed Deva’s [ ] flood and [ ] snow-clad height,
And wound through depth of many a sunless Vale
On which the noontide dew lay wet and pale,
And now had reached Auseva’s rugged breast,
The Leader turned, and from a jutting rock
Calm as a Shepherd beckoning to his flock
The little band addrest–

‘Stop, Christian Warriors, faithful and undaunted,
Here, if the Saints and pitying Angels bless
The efforts of the brave in their distress,
Not vainly shall your Standard here be planted!
With swords to guard our Virtue are we come
To these Asturian wilds, a proud retreat!
Where Friends surround us in their ancient seat,
An inextinguishable people’s home.
Aloft while here we haven, night and day
Shall multiply our host and strengthen our array.

—What earthly power can check the gathering clouds
When from afar, along the craggy chain
Of these huge mountains they appear in crowds?
What mortal enmity the work restrain?
Which an impenetrable darkness shrouds
While steadfastly embodied they remain,
Feeding a silent force of thunder, wind, and rain,
Which at the sovereign word
Of their almighty Lord
Breaks forth and spreads in ravage o’er the plain—
No otherwise shall we descend and quell
The astounded Infidel

“Meanwhile till Heav’n, O patient Warriors, call
Our Valor to the onset, yon wide Cave
Which opens like a ready grave
For desperate Fugitives, to us shall be
A Legislative Hall
Chear’d by the gladsome voice of Liberty;
And to that Sanctuary dark
Will we entrust the holy Ark,
The Covenant of the faith
That saves the soul from death,
And shall uphold our frail and mortal hands
Till we, or men as brave, the favored bands
Of our exalted Countrymen, regain
For Lordship without end the fields of Universal Spain.”

Thus spake Pelayo on his chosen Hill;
And shall at this late [ ] the Heavens belie
The heroic prophecy
And put to shame the great Diviner’s skill?
The Power which, issuing like a slender rill
From those high places, waxed by slow degrees,
Swoln with access of many sovereignties,
And gained a River’s strength and rolled a mighty wave—
The Stream which in Pelayo’s Cave
Upon the illustrious Mountain took its birth—
Has disappeared from earth:
A foreign Tyrant speaks his impious will,
And Spain hath own’d the Monarch which he gave.

Most horrible attempt! unthought-of hour
Of human shame and black indignity!
Alas, not unprovoked those Tempests low’r,
Not uninvited this malignity.
Full long relinquishing a precious dower
By Gothic Virtue won, secured by oath
Of king and people pledged in mutual troth,
The Spaniard hath approached on servile knee
The native Ruler; all too willingly
Full many an age in that degenerate Land
The rightful Master hath betrayed his trust.
Earthward the Imperial flower was bent
In mortal languishment;
This knew the Spoiler whose victorious hand
Hath snapp’d th’enfeebled Stalk and laid its head in dust.