"From where the battle roars—the billows chafe—
"They doubtless boldly did—but who are safe?
"Here let them haste to gladden and surprize,
"And kiss the doubt from these delighted eyes!"
"Where is our chief? for him we bear report—
"And doubt that joy—which hails our coming—short,
"Yet thus sincere—'tis cheering, though so brief;
"But, Juan! instant guide us to our chief: 120
"Our greeting paid, we'll feast on our return,
"And all shall hear what each may wish to learn."
Ascending slowly by the rock-hewn way,
To where his watch-tower beetles o'er the bay,
By bushy brake, and wild flowers blossoming,
And freshness breathing from each silver spring,
Whose scattered streams from granite basins burst,
Leap into life, and sparkling woo your thirst;
From crag to cliff they mount—Near yonder cave,
What lonely straggler looks along the wave? 130
In pensive posture leaning on the brand,
Not oft a resting-staff to that red hand?