And doth the Power that man adores ordain
Their doom, nor heed the suppliant's appeal?
Is all that desperate Valour acts in vain?
And Counsel sage, and patriotic Zeal—
The Veteran's skill—Youth's fire—and Manhood's heart of steel?
LIV.
Is it for this the Spanish maid, aroused,
Hangs on the willow her unstrung guitar,
And, all unsexed, the Anlace[1] hath espoused,
Sung the loud song, and dared the deed of war?
And she, whom once the semblance of a scar
Appalled, an owlet's 'larum chilled with dread,[2]
Now views the column-scattering bay'net jar,[3]
The falchion flash, and o'er the yet warm dead
Stalks with Minerva's step where Mars might quake to tread.
LV.
Ye who shall marvel when you hear her tale,
Oh! had you known her in her softer hour,
- ↑ ["A short two-edged knife or dagger ... formerly worn at the girdle" (N. Eng. Dict., art. "Anlace"). The "anlace" of the Spanish heroines was the national weapon, the pluñal, or cuchillo, which was sometimes stuck in the sash (Handbook for Spain, ii. 803).]
- ↑ [Compare Macbeth, act v. sc. 5, line 10—
"The Time has been, my senses would have cooled
To hear a night-shriek."] - ↑
—— the column-scattering bolt afar,
The falchion's flash ——.—[MS. erased, D.]
