Page:Modern poets and poetry of Spain.djvu/204

158 Which reason and which virtue erst array'd

To shine in happier days, now quench'd in night.

Thou, Balmis! never mayst return; nor grows

In Europe now the sacred laurel meet

With which to crown thee. There in calm repose,

Where peace and independence a retreat

May find, there rest thee! where thou mayst receive

At length the august reward of deeds so blest.

Nations immense shall come for thee to grieve,

Raising in grateful hymns to Heaven address'd

Thy name with fervorous zeal. And though now laid In the cold tomb's dark precincts thou refuse To hear them, listen to them thus convey'd At least, as in the accents of my Muse.

with an easy hand wills Fate to give

Nations, or heroes, power and renown:

Triumphant Rome, whose empire to receive

A hemisphere submissively bow'd down,