BARCELONA, APRIL, 1493.
"Venient amiis
Saecula sens, quibus Oceanus
Vincula rerum laxet, et ingens
Pateat tellus, Typhisque novos
Detegas orbes, nee sit terris
Ultima Thule."
'Twas night upon the Darro.
The risen moon above the shadowy tower
Of Comares shone, the silver sun of night,
And poured its lustrous splendors through the halls
Of the Alhambra.
The air was breathless,
Yet filled with ceaseless song sof nightingales,
And odors sweet of falling orange blooms;
The misty lamps were burning odorous oil;
The uncurtained balconies were full of life,
And laugh and song, and airy castanets,
And gay guitars.
Afar Sierras rose,
Domes, towers, and pinnacles, over royal heights,
Whose crowns were gemmed with stars.
The Generaliffe,
The summer palace of old Moorish kings
In vanished years, stood sentinel afar,
A pile of shade, as brighter grew the moon,
Impearling fountain sprays, and shimmering
On seas of citron orchards cool and green,
And terraces embowered with vernal vines
And breathing flowers.
In shadowy arcades
Were loitering priests, and here and there
A water-carrier passed with tinkling bells.
There came a peal of horns,
That woke Granada, city of delights,
From its long moonlight reverie. Again: —
The suave lute ceased to play, and Castanet;
The water-bearer stopped, and ceased his song
The wandering troubadour.
Then rent the air
Another joyous peal, and oped the gates
And entered there a train of cavaliers,
Their helmets glittering in the low red moon.
The streets and balconies
All danced with wondering life. The train moved on,
And filled the air again the horns melodious,
And loud the heralds shouted: —
"Thy name, O Fernando, through all earth shall be sounded,
Columbus has triumphed, his foes are confounded."
A silence followed,
Could such tidings be? Men heard and whispered,
Eyes glanced to eyes, feet uncertain moved,
Never on mortal ears had fallen words
Like these. And was the earth a star ?
On marched the cavaliers,
And pealed again the horns, and again cried
The heralds: —
"Thy name, Isabella, through all earth shall be sounded;
Columbus has triumphed, his foes are confounded!"
All hearts were thrilled.
" Isabella ! " That name breathed faith and hope
And lofty aim. Emotion swayed the crowds;
Tears flowed, and acclamations rose, and rushed
The wondering multitudes towards the plaza.
" Isabella ! Isabella ! " it filled
The air — that one word " Isabella ! "
And now
'Tis noon of night. The moon hangs near the earth —
A golden moon in golden air; the peaks
Like silver tents of shadowy sentinels
Glint 'gainst the sky. The plaza gleams and surges
Like a sea. The joyful horns peal forth again,
And falls a hush, and cry the heralds: —
"Thy name, Isabella, shall be praised by all the living;
Haste, haste to Barcelona, and join the Great Thanks-
What nights had seen Granada!
Yet never one like this! The moon went down,
And fell the wings of shadow, yet the streets
Still swarmed with people hurrying on and on.
ii.
Morn came,
With bursts of nightingales and quivering fires
The cavaliers rode forth toward Barcelona.
The city followed, throbbing with delight.
The happy troubadour, the muleteer,
The craftsmen all, the boy and girl, and e'en
The mother — 'twas a soft spring morn ;
The fairest skies of earth those April morns
In Andalusia. Long was the journey,
But the land was flowers, and nights were not,
And birds sang all the hours, and breezes cool
Fanned all the ways along the sea.
The roads were filled
With hurrying multitudes. For well 'twas known
That he the conqueror, viceroy of the isles,
Was riding from Seville to meet the king.
And what were conquerors before to him whose eye
Had seen the world a star, and found the star a world?
Once he had walked
The self-same ways, roofless and poor and sad,
A beggar at old convent "doors, and heard
The very children jeer him in the streets,
And ate his crust, and made his roofless bed
Upon the flowers beside his boy, and prayed,
And found in trust a pillow radiant
With dreams immortal. Now?
That was a glorious day
That dawned on Barcelona. Banners filled
The thronging towers, the old bells rung, and blasts
Of lordly trumpets seemed to reach the sky
Cerulean. All Spain had gathered there,
And waited there his coming ; Castilian knights,
Gay cavaliers, hidalgos young, and e'en the old
Puissant grandees of far Aragon,
With glittering mail, and waving plumes, and all
The peasant multitude with bannerets
And charms and flowers.
Beneath pavilions
Of brocades of gold, the Court had met.
The dual crowns of Leon old and proud Castile
There waited him, the peasant mariner.
The trumpets waited
Near the open gates; the minstrels young and fair
Upon the tapestries and arrased walls,
And everywhere from all the happy provinces
The wandering troubadours.
Afar was heard
A cry, a long acclaim. Afar was seen
A proud and stately steed with nodding plumes,
Bridled with gold, whose rider stately rode,
And still afar a long and sinuous train
Of silvery cavaliers. A shout arose,
And all the city, all the vales and hills,
With silver trumpets rung.
[Extract]