He form'd opinions calm, but form'd them strong.
In earliest youth in brighter colours shown,
Truth gave its dauntless bearing to his tone,
And o'er his manners threw an air of free
And frank and fearless generosity;
Sway'd by no rules his bosom learnt to thrill
wild extreme of good or ill;
Of loftiest daring, undefined his aim,
He spurn'd the tedious paths of vulgar fame ;
His country's limits, earth's extremest shore,
Seem'd bounds too narrow for the soul he bore;
That flash was quench'd, the enthusiast spirit fled;
Ideal grace that young romance had shed,
And all the fire of chivalry, was dead.
O'er lessening earth, o'er clouds where, throned in light,
Heaven beams with day intolerably bright,
The bird of Empire wings his stately flight;
His equal soul confronts with quenchless gaze,
And stern delight, the immeasurable blaze;
No mortal arm his proud career shall rein,
No mortal foe that lightning glance restrain,
The sainted mount of Rosalie they know,
And wide extends the Christian camp below;
With Gothic turrets, massive, round, and tall,
In awful centre frowns Beleguer's hall;
Dark as the rock o'er ocean's restless tide
Ascend those towers in grandeur's barren pride,
While glittering through the gloom of closing day
The white tents gleam like ocean's flashing spray;
Fair o'er its walls Castilian pennons stream,
Gay through the tents the lamps of evening beam;
As night restores to life the unpeopled skies,
So one by one these lower stars arise;
Yet dull their glance through tented sail appears,
As Beauty's soul comes dimm'd by Pity's tears.
To greet the Moor in due Castilian state,
The noblest chosen, from the castle gate
Ride slowly forth; red plume and mail of steel
The hardy warriors of the north reveal.
And first, with thoughtful brow and solemn pace
Their leader, Lord of Ruti's ancient race;
Strict to maintain, as quick to feel his due,
Still train'd in courts, each courteous rule he knew.
So when the Heralds waved beseeching wand
And silence gain'd, by Kedith's prompt command
His followers first in measured speech and grave
To Hassan every honour'd title gave;
That o'er, the fire of old Castille awoke,
And all the Spaniard in their accents spoke;
They told of Kedith, Lord of Ruti's plain,
And boasted high, that throbb'd in every vein
The blue unsullied blood of ancient Spain;
Told how his sire's unconquerable band
Made good through years of strife their mountain land; 'Gainst foes outnumbering stemm'd the desperate fight, And, arm'd for God, upheld the freeman's right;
While unresisted sway the faithless bore
From Calpe's heights to Biscay's storm-swept shore.
They read his father's powers and titles high,
Even from the earliest days of chivalry;
And downward traced through many a frenzied age
Rights well maintain'd in conflict's fiercest rage;
And he, their son, would prop his country's laws, And guard, so help him God! his Sovereign's cause.
The Spanish herald spoke; with equal pride
In brief and lighter phrase the Moor replied:
"We come to proffer peace-if urged in vain,
"The tribes who victors stood on Xeres' plain
"Can well their King and kingdom's cause maintain."
Then first to Hassan Kedith lowly bent
With formal phrase of courteous compliment;
Advancing foremost of the marshall'd band
He tender'd stately welcome to the land,
And, "tarrying in the camp on King's behest,
"Say, would he honour Kedith's dome, and rest
"In hospitable hall a welcome guest ?"
While thus the chiefs exchange of honours gave
With much of pomp and salutation grave,
Their differing ranks the scowling foemen view'd,
Nor gazed forgetful of their lineal feud;
Even when their Lords uniting led the van,
In ranks unmingling march'd each rival clan;
The Moslem, vain his trophied arms to show,
The Spaniard follow'd silent, stern and slow;
Ardent, they deem'd their chiefs, in close debate,
Now fix'd the crisis of their country's fate;
Fired by each herald's speech, ere yet begun
They deem'd the work of embassy was done;
Unskill'd, they little knew when blend the great,
High ceremonial, antique form of state,
Is cold and dubious sign of love or hate,
Nor guess'd that courtesy tied either tongue;
And yet the question dread suspended hung,
While every pressing interest gave place
To converse casual, as of tilt or chace.
Like veteran scarr'd, Beleguer's massive might
Bore many a mark of frontier's ceaseless fight;
Each loop-hole mann'd, each angle turret-bound,
The gloomy moat secured its ample round;
Buttress, and keep, and bastion closely pent,
Shields proudly ranged in lieu of battlement,
Spoils won by Kedith's lords in conquering field,
Spoke hand that dared, and soul that would not yield;
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