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From muse or sylvan was he wont to ask,
In phrase poetic, inspiration fair;
Careless he gave his numbers to the air,-
They came unsought for, if applauses came;
Nor for himself prefers he now the prayer;
Let but his verse befit a hero's fame,
Immortal be the verse-forgot the poet's name.


Hark, from yon misty cairn their answer toss'd:
"Minstrel! the fame of whose romantic lyre,
Capricious swelling now, may soon be lost,
Like the light flickering of a cottage fire:
If to such task presumptuous thou aspire,
Seek not from us the meed to warrior due;
Age after age has gather'd son to sire,

Since our grey cliffs the din of conflict knew, Or, pealing through our vales, victorious bugles blew,


"Decay'd our old traditionary lore,

Save where the lingering fays renew their ring, By milk-maid seen beneath the hawthorn hoar, Or round the marge of Minchmore's haunted spring:* [sing, Save where their legends grey-hair'd shepherds That now scarce win a listening ear but thine, Of feuds obscure, and border ravaging,

And rugged deeds recount in rugged line, Of moonlight foray made on Teviot, Tweed, or Tyne.


"No! search romantic lands, where the near Sun Gives with unstinted boon ethereal flame,

Where the rude villager, his labour done,

In verse spontaneous+ chants some favour'd


A copious fountain upon the ridge of Minchmore, called the Cheesewell, is supposed to be sacred to the fairies, and it was customary to propitiate them by throwing in something upon pass

ang it.

The Bexibility of the Italian and Spanish languages, renders these countries distinguished for the talent of improvisation.

Whether Olalia's charms his tribute claim
Her eye of diamond, and her locks of jet;
Or whether, kindling at the deeds of Græme,*
He sing, to wild Morisco measure set,
Old Albin's red claymore, green Erin's bayonet!


"Explore those regions, where the flinty crest
Of wild Nevada ever gleams with snows,
Where in the proud Alhambra's ruined breast
Barbaric monuments of pomp repose;
Or where the banners of more ruthless foes
Than the fierce Moor, float o'er Toledo's fane,
From whose tall towers even now the patriot throws
An anxious glance, to spy upon the plain
The blended ranks of England, Portugal, and Spain.


"There, of Numantian fire a swarthy spark
Still lightens in the sun-burnt native's eye;
The stately port, slow step, and visage dark,
Still mark enduring pride and constancy.
And, if the glow of feudal chivalry

Beam not, as once, thy nobles' dearest pride,
Iberia oft thy crestless peasantry

Have seen the plumed Hidalgo quit their side, Have seen, yet dauntless stood-gainst fortune fought

and died.


"And cherish'd still by that unchanging race,
Are themes for minstrelsy more high than thine;
Of strange tradition many a mystic trace,

Legend and vision, prophecy and sign;
Where wonders wild of Arabesque combine
With Gothic imagery of darker shade,
Forming a model meet for minstrel line. [said:
Go, seek such theme!"-The Mountain Spirit
With filial awe I heard-I heard, and I obey'd

The name of Grahame, in England is usually pronounced an dissyllable

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REARING their crests amid the cloudless skies,
And darkly clustering in the pale moonlight,
Toledo's holy towers and spires arise,

As from a trembling lake of silver white;
Their mingled shadows intercept the sight

Of the broad burial-ground outstretch'd below, And nought disturbs the silence of the night; All sleeps in sullen shade, or silver glow, All save the heavy swell of Teio's ceaseless flow.


All save the rushing swell of Teio's tide,

Or, distant heard, a courser's neigh or tramp; Their changing rounds as watchful horsemen ride, To guard the limits of King Roderick's camp, For, through the river's night-fog rolling damp, Was many a proud pavilion dimly seen,

Which glimmer'd back, against the moon's fair Tissues of silk and silver twisted sheen, [lamp, And standards proudly pitch'd, and warders arm'd between.


But of their Monarch's person keeping ward, Since last the deep-mouth d bell of vespers toll'd,

The chosen soldiers of the royal guard

Their post beneath the proud Cathedral hold:

A band unlike their Gothic sires of old,

Who, for the cap of steel and iron mace,

Bear slender darts, and casques bedeck'd with gold, While silver-studded belts their shoulders grace, Where ivory quivers ring in the broad falchion's place.


In the light language of an idle court,

They murmur'd at their master's long delay, And held his lengthen'd orisons in sport: [stay, "What! will Don Roderick here till morning

To wear in shrift and prayer the night away? And are his hours in such dull penance past For fair Florinda s plunder d charms to pay?" Then to the east their weary eyes they cast, And wish'd the lingering dawn would glimmer forth at last.

But, far within, Toledo's Prelate lent
An ear of fearful wonder to the King;
The silver lamp a fiful lustre sent,

So long that sad confession witnessing:
For Roderick told of many a hidden thing,
Such as are lothly utter'd to the air,

When Fear, Remorse, and Shame, the bosom wring,
And Guilt his secret burthen cannot bear,

And Conscience seeks in speech a respite from

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Full on the Prelate's face, and silver hair,
The stream of failing light was feebly roll'd;
But Roderick's visage, though his head was bare,
Was shadow'd by his hand and mantle's fold.
While of his hidden soul the sins he told,

Proud Alaric's descendant could not brook,
That mortal man his bearing should behold,
Or boast that he had seen, when conscience shook,
Fear tame a monarch's brow, remorse a warrior's


The old man's faded cheek war'd yet more pale,
As many a secret sad the king bewray'd;
And sign and glance eked out the unfinished tale,
When in the midst his faltering whisper staid.

The invasion of the Moors is generally attributed to the for cible violation committed by Roerick upon Forinda called by the Moors, Caba, or Cara, the daughter of Count Jahan. In his indignation Julian formed an alliance with the Monrs, and oude tenanced the invasion of Spain y a body of Saracens and Africans, commanded by the celebrated Tarik; the issue of which was the defeat and death of Roderick, and the occupation of almost the whole peninsula by the enemy.

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"Thus royal Witiza was slain," he said; Yet, holy father, deem not it was I."Thus still Ambition strives her crimes to shade"O rather deem 'twas stern necessity! Self-preservation bade, and I must kill or die.


"And, if Florinda's shrieks alarm'd the air,
If she invoked her absent sire in vain,
And on her knees implored that I would spare,
Yet, reverend priest, thy sentence rash refrain!—
All is not as it seems-the female train

Know by their bearing to disguise their mood:"
But Conscience here, as if in high disdain,

Sent to the Monarch's cheek the burning bloodHe stay'd his speech abrupt-and up the Prelate stood.


"O harden'd offspring of an iron race!

What of thy crimes, Don Roderick, shall I say?
What alms, or prayers, or penance can efface

Murder's dark spot, wash treason's stain away!
For the foul ravisher how shall I pray, [boast?
Who, scarce repentant, makes his crime his
How hope Almighty vengeance shall delay,
Unless, in mercy to yon Christian host,

He spare the shepherd, lest the guiltless sheep be lost."


Then kindled the dark tyrant in his mood,

And to his brow return'd its dauntless gloom; "And welcome then," he cried, "be blood for blood, For treason treachery, for dishonour doom! Yet will I know whence come they, or by whom. Show, for thou canst-give forth the fated key, And guide me, Priest, to that mysterious room, Where, if aught true in old tradition be,

His nation's future fates a Spanish King shall see.'

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The predecessor of Roderick upon the Spanish throne, and alain by his connivance, as is affirmed by Rodriguez of Toledo, the father of Spanish history,

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