these forests, their beloved forefathers once, in careless gayety, pursued their sports and hunted their game; that every returning day found them the sole, the peaceful and happy proprietors of this extensive and beautiful domain. Go, administer the cup of ob livion to recollections like these; and then you wil cease to complain that the Indian refuses to be civilized. 4. But, until then, surely it is nothing wonderful that a nation, even yet bleeding afresh from the mem ory of ancient wrongs, perpetually agonized by new outrages, and goaded into desperation and madness at the prospect of the. certain ruin which awaits their descendants, should hate the authors of their miseries, of their desolation, their destruction,- should hate their manners, hate their color, hate their language, hate their name, hate every thing that belongs to them! No; never, until time shall wear out the history of their sorrows and their sufferings, will the Indian be brought to love the white man, and to imitate his WILLIAM WIRT. (1772-1835. manners. XC.-TOO LATE. I STAYED. Too late I stayed-forgive the crime; How noiseless falls the foot of Time That only treads on flowers! What eye with clear account remarks The ebbing of his glass, When all its sands are diamond sparks, Ah! who to sober measurement Their plumage for his wings' W. R. SPENCER. XCI.-BERNARDO DEL CARPIO. GAGE, n., a challenge to combat. YEARN (yern), v. i., to long. FAL'CHION (fawl'chun), n., a sword. DUN'GEON, n., a close dark prison. Pronounce Sancho, Sank'ko; Castile, Kas-teel'. Do not say baird for beard. King Alfonzo, of Spain, according to the old chronicle, had offered Bernardo del Carpio immediate possession of the person of his father, the king's prisoner, in exchange for the castle of Carpio, held by Bernardo. The latter gave up the stronghold; whereupon the mocking king caused the father to be put to death, and his corpse placed on horseback, in which state it was led out to the son, the trusting Bernardo. In Mrs. Hemans's ballad, Bernardo is represented as letting the false king go free. In Lockhart's ballad, which is far the superior in spirit, Bernardo lets the king hear from him again. By a combination of parts of the two ballads (placing that by Mrs. Hemans first), with slight alterations, we get a clear story; though chroniclers leave us in the dark as to Beraardo's history after the murder of his father. fire,t And sued the haughty king to free "I bring thee here my fortress-keys, I bring my captive train, I pledge thee faith, my liege, my lord! "Rise, rise! even now thy father comes, Mount thy good horse; and thou and I Then lightly rose that loyal son, And bounded on his steed, And urged, as if with lance in rest, And lo! from far, as on they pressed, With one that 'mid them stately rode, : "Now haste, Bernardo, haste! for there, In very truth, is he, The father whom thy faithful heart Hath yearned so long to see." His dark eye flashed, his proud breast heaved, His cheek's hue came and went; He reached that gray-haired chieftain's side, And there, dismounting, bent; A lowly knee to earth he bent, His father's hand he took ; What was there in its touch that all That hand was cold,- a frozen thing,— A plume waved o'er the noble brow,- Up from the ground he sprang, and gazed; They hushed their very hearts that saw They might have chained him, as before For the power was stricken from his arm, Then, starting suddenly, he rushed Amid the pale and wildered looks And with a fierce, o'ermastering grasp, The rearing war-horse led, And sternly set them face to face, The king before the dead! "Came I not forth upon thy pledge, Be still, and gaze thou on, false king! The voice, the glance, the heart I sought, If thou wouldst clear thy perjured soul, "Into these glassy eyes put light,- Give me back him for whom I strove, Thou canst not- and a king? His dust be mountains on thy head!" Upon his horse Bernardo sprang, Defiance in his look; Then at the pale and trembling king A warning finger shook. And ere, of all that arm'ed train, And gave his steed the spur. With some good ten of his chosen men, Before them all, in the palace hall, The lying king to beard; He came in reverend guise; But ever and anon he frowned, And flame broke from his eyes. "And dar'st thou, caitiff," cries the king, Thus come unbid to me? But what from traitor's blood should spring, Save traitor like to thee? His sire, lords, had a traitor's heart,- "Whoever told this tale the king, Cries Ber'nard; "here my gage I fling No treason was in Sancho's blood,— Below the throne, what knight will own The coward calumny? "Your horse was down,-your hope was flown,~ I saw the falchion shine, That soon had drunk your royal blood, Had I not ventured mine; But memory soon of service done Deserteth the in-grate'; You've thanked the son for life and crown By the father's bloody fate. "You swore upon your kingly faith To set Don Sancho free; But (out upon your paltering breath!) He died in dungeon cold and dim, And visage blind, and mangled limb, Were all you gave to me. "The king that swerveth from his word No Spanish lord will draw the sword |