To friends a friend; how kind to all And feudal fief! To foes how stern a foe was he! And to the valiant and the free What prudence with the old and wise; Benignant to the serf and slave, He showed the base and falsely brave His was Octavian's prosperous star, His, Scipio's virtue; his, the skill Of Hannibal. His was a Trajan's goodness; his And righteous laws; The arm of Hector; and the might Of Tully, to maintain the right The clemency of Antonine, Firm, gentle, still; The eloquence of Adrian, In tented field and bloody fray, The faith of Constantine; ay, more, The fervent love Camillus bore He left no well-filled treasury, He fought the Moors-and, in their fe'l, Upon the hard-fought battle-ground And there the warrior's hand did gain And if, of old, his halls displayed So, in the dark, disastrous hour, After high deeds, not left untold, In the stern warfare, which of old "Twas his to share, Such noble leagues he made, that more And fairer regions than before His guerdon were. These are the records, half-effaced, Which with the hand of youth he traced On history's page; But with fresh victories he drew Each fading character anew In his old age. By his unrivalled skill, by great He stood, in his high dignity, He found his cities and domains But, by fierce battle and blockade, By the tried valour of his hand, Were nobly served; Let Portugal repeat the story, And proud Castile, who shared the glor His arms deserved. And when so oft, for weal or woe, His life upon the fatal throw Had been cast down; When he had served, with patriot zeal Beneath the banner of Castile, His sovereign's crown; And done such deeds of valour strong, Can count them all; Then, on Ocana's castled rock, Death at his portal came to knock, Saying, "Good Cavalier, prepare Let thy strong heart of steel this day "Since thou hast been, in battle strife, So prodigal of health and life, For earthly fame, Let virtue nerve thy heart again; "Think not the struggle that draws near Too terrible for man-nor fear To meet the foe; Nor let thy noble spirit grieve Its life of glorious fame to leave "A life of honour and of worth And yet its glory far exceeds That base and sensual life, which leads "The eternal life, beyond the sky, Wealth cannot purchase, nor the high And proud estate; The soul in dalliance laid-the spirit "But the good monk, in cloistered cell, Shall gain it by his book and bell, His prayers and tears; And the brave knight, whose arm endures "And thou, brave knight, whose hand has poured The life-blood of the Pagan horde O'er all the land, In heaven shalt thou receive, at length, "Cheered onward by this promise sure Depart-thy hope is certainty- "O Death, no more, no more delay; My spirit longs to flee away, And be at rest; The will of Heaven my will shall be- To God's behest. "My soul is ready to depart, No thought rebels, the obedient heart Breathes forth no sigh; The wish on earth to linger still Were vain, when 'tis God's sovereign will "O Thou that for our sins didst take A human form, and humbly make Thy home on earth; Thou, that to Thy divinity A human nature didst ally By mortal birth, "And in that form didst suffer here Torment, and agony, and fear, |