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THE FOREST SANCTUARY.
11


XVI.

To this man brings his brother!—Some were there,
Who with their desolation had entwin'd
Fierce strength, and girt the sternness of despair
Fast round their bosoms, ev'n as warriors bind
The breast-plate on for fight: but brow and cheek
Seem'd theirs a torturing panoply to speak!
And there were some, from whom the very mind
Had been wrung out: they smil'd—oh! startling smile

Whence man's high soul is fled!—where doth it sleep the while?


XVII.

But onward moved the melancholy train,
For their false creeds in fiery pangs to die.
This was the solemn sacrifice of Spain—
Heaven's offering from the land of chivalry!
Through thousands, thousands of their race they mov'd—
Oh! how unlike all others!—the belov’d,
The free, the proud, the beautiful! whose eye
Grew fix'd before them, while a people's breath

Was hush'd, and its one soul bound in the thought of death!
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