Page:Felicia Hemans in The Winter's Wreath 1831.pdf/5

Wherein the land may rest! My king, this hour
(Solemn as that which to the voyager's eye
In far and dim perspective doth unfold
A new and boundless world;) may haply be
The last in which the courage and the power
Of Truth's high voice shall reach you! Who may stand
As man to man, as friend to friend, before
Th' ancestral throne of monarchs? Or, perchance,
Toils, such as tame the loftiest to endurance,
Henceforth may wait us here! But howsoe'er
This be, the lessons won from sufferings past,
Befit all time, all change. Oh! by the blood,
The free, the generous blood of Portugal
Shed on the sands of Afric; by the names
Which, with their centuries of high renown,
There died, extinct for ever; let not those
Who stood in hope and glory at our side
Here, on this very sea beach, whence they passed
To fall, and leave no trophy; let them not
Be soon, be e'er forgotten! for their fate
Bears a deep warning in its awfulness,
Whence power might well learn wisdom!

Sebastian. Thinkest thou then
That years of sufferance and captivity,
Such as have bowed down eagle hearts ere now,
And made high energies their spoil, have passed
So lightly o'er my spirit ? It is not thus!
The things thou wouldst recall are not of those
To be forgotten! But my heart hath still
A sense, a bounding pulse for hope and joy,