Page:Modern poets and poetry of Spain.djvu/207

Rh Conquerors of winds and waves. With dauntless brow

The Spaniards view them, and in calmness wait,

Contemning their fierce arrogance, and high

Their bosoms beating with indignant rage.

Just anger! sacred ardour! "There come nigh

Those cruel foes, who hasten war to wage,

And spill our blood, when we reposed secure

Beneath the wings of peace. They who are led

By avarice vile; who friendship's laws abjure;

Who in their endless tyranny o'erspread

Would hold condemn'd the seas; who to unite,

As brothers, pride and insolence of power

With treachery and rapacity delight;

Who"—but with mantle dark night brings the hour

To enwrap the world. Wandering round the shrouds

Are frightful shades, dire slaughter that portend

And fearful expectations raise. Through opening clouds

The day displays the field, where wildly blend

Fury and death; and horrid Mars the scene

Swells loud with shouts of war, upraised in air

His standard high. To answer intervene

From hollow brass the mortal roarings glare.

The echo thunders, and the waves resound,

Dashing themselves in rage to Afric's shore:

In conflict fly the ships to ships around,

By rancour moved. Less violent its store