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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=407944" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Peruvian Tales: Aciloe, Tale V</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Character of ZAMOR , a bard--His passion for ACILOE , daughter of the Cazique who rules the valley--The Peruvian tribe prepare to defend themselves--A battle--The PERUVIANS are vanquished--ACILOE'S father is made a prisoner, and ZAMOR is supposed to have fallen in the engagement--ALPHONSO becomes enamoured of ACILOE --Offers to marry her--She rejects him--In revenge he puts her father to the torture--She appears to consent, in order to save him--Meets ZAMOR in a wood--LAS CASAS joins them--Leads the two lovers to ALPHONSO , and obtains their freedom--ZAMOR conducts ACILOE and her father to Chili--A reflection on the influence of Poetry over the human mind. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>In this sweet scene, to all the virtues kind,<br>Mild ZAMOR own'd the richest gifts of mind;<br>For o'er his tuneful breast the heav'nly muse<br>Shed from her sacred spring inspiring dews;<br>She loves to breathe her hallow'd strain where art<br>Has never veil'd the soul, or warp'd the heart;<br>Where fancy glows with all her native fire,<br>And passion lives on the exulting lyre.<br>Nature, in terror rob'd or beauty dreast,<br>Could thrill with dear enchantment ZAMOR'S breast;<br>He lov'd the languid sigh the zephyr pours,<br>He lov'd the placid rill that feeds the flowers--<br>But more the hollow sound the wild winds form,<br>When black upon the billow hangs the storm;<br>The torrent rolling from the mountain steep,<br>Its white foam trembling on the darken'd deep--<br>And oft on Andes' heights with earnest gaze<br>He view'd the sinking sun's reflected rays<br>Glow like unnumber'd stars, that seem to rest<br>Sublime upon his ice-encircled breast.<br>Oft his wild warblings charm'd the festal hour,<br>Rose in the vale, and languish'd in the bower;<br>The heart's reponsive tones he well could move,<br>Whose song was nature, and whose theme was love.<br>ACILOE'S beauties his fond soul confest,<br>Yet more ACILOE'S virtues warm'd his breast.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah stay, ye tender hours of young delight,<br>Suspend, ye moments, your impatient flight;<br>Prolong the charm when passion's pure controul<br>Unfolds the first affections of the soul!<br>This gentle tribe ACILOE'S sire obey'd,<br>Who still in wisdom and in mercy sway'd.<br>From him the dear illusions long had fled<br>That o'er the morn of life enchantment shed;<br>But virtue's calm remembrance cheer'd his breast,<br>And life was joy serene, and death was rest:<br>Bright is the blushing Summer's glowing ray,<br>Yet not unlovely Autumn's temper'd day.<br>Now stern IBERIA'S ruthless sons advance,<br>Roll the fierce eye, and shake the pointed lance.<br>PERUVIA'S tribe behold the hostile throng<br>With desolating fury pour along;<br>The hoary chief to the dire conflict leads<br>His death-devoted train--the battle bleeds.<br>ACILOE'S searching eye can now no more<br>The form of ZAMOR or her sire explore;<br>While destin'd all the bitterness to prove<br>Of anxious duty and of mourning love,<br>Each name that's dearest wakes her bursting sigh,<br>Throbs at her soul, and trembles in her eye.<br>Now pierc'd by wounds, and breathless from the fight,<br>Her friend, the valiant OMAR , struck her sight:--<br>"OMAR ," she cried, "you bleed, unhappy youth!<br>And sure that look unfolds some fatal truth;<br>Speak, pitying speak, my frantic fears forgive,<br>Say, does my father, does my ZAMOR live?"--<br>"All, all is lost!" the dying OMAR said,<br>"And endless griefs are thine, dear, wretched maid;<br>I saw thy aged sire a captive bound,<br>I saw thy ZAMOR press the crimson ground!"--<br>He could no more, he yields his fleeting breath,<br>While all in vain she seeks repose in death.<br>But O, how far each other pang above<br>Throbs the wild agony of hopeless love!<br>That woe, for which in vain would comfort shed<br>Her healing balm, or time in pity spread<br>The veil that throws a shade o'er other care,<br>For here, and here alone, profound despair<br>Casts o'er the suff'ring soul a lasting gloom,<br>And slowly leads her victim to the tomb.<br>Now rude tumultuous sounds assail her ear,<br>And soon ALPHONSO'S victor train appear;<br>Then, as with ling'ring step he mov'd along,<br>She saw her father 'mid the captive throng;<br>She saw with dire dismay, she wildly flew,<br>Her snowy arms around his form she threw;--<br>"He bleeds!" she cries; "I hear his moan of pain!<br>My father will not bear the galling chain!<br>Cruel ALPHONSO , let not helpless age<br>Feel thy hard yoke, and meet thy barb'rous rage;<br>Or, O, if ever mercy mov'd thy soul,<br>If ever thou hast felt her blest controul,<br>Grant my sad heart's desire, and let me share<br>The fetters which a father ill can bear."<br>While the young warrior, as she falt'ring spoke,<br>With fix'd attention and with ardent look<br>Hung on her tender glance, that love inspires,<br>The rage of conquest yields to milder fires.<br>Yet as he gaz'd enraptur'd on her form,<br>Her virtues awe the heart her beauties warm;<br>And while impassion'd tones his love reveal,<br>He asks with holy rites his vows to seal.<br>"Hops't thou," she cried, "those sacred ties shall join<br>This bleeding heart, this trembling hand to thine?<br>To thine, whose ruthless heart has caus'd my pains,<br>Whose barb'rous hand the blood of ZAMOR stains!<br>Canst thou, the murd'rer of my peace, controul<br>The grief that swells, the pang that rends my soul?--<br>That pang shall death, shall death alone remove,<br>And cure the anguish of despairing love."<br>At length, to madness stung by fixed disdain,<br>ALPHONSO now to fury gives the rein;<br>And with relentless mandate dooms her sire,<br>Stretch'd on the bed of torture to expire;<br>But O, what form of language can impart<br>The frantic grief that wrung ACILOE'S heart!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When to the height of hopeless sorrow wrought, <br>The fainting spirit feels a pang of thought,<br>Which, never painted in the hues of speech,<br>Lives at the soul, and mocks expression's reach!<br>At length she falt'ring cried, "the conflict's o'er,<br>My heart, my breaking heart can bear no more!<br>Yet spare his feeble age--my vows receive,<br>And O, in mercy bid my father live!"<br>"Wilt thou be mine?" th' enamour'd chief replies--<br>"Yes, cruel!--see, he dies! my father dies!--<br>Save, save my father!"--"Dear, unhappy maid,"<br>The charm'd ALPHONSO cried, "be swift obey'd--<br>Unbind his chains--Ah, calm each anxious pain,<br>ACILOE'S voice no more shall plead in vain;<br>Plac'd near his child, thy aged sire shall share<br>Our joys, still cherished by thy tender care."--<br>"No more," she cried, "will fate that bliss allow;<br>Before my lips shall breathe the impartial vow,<br>Some faithful guide shall lead his aged feet<br>To distant scenes that yield a safe retreat;<br>Where some soft heart, some gentle hand will shed<br>The drops of comfort on his hoary head.<br>My ZAMOR , if thy spirit hovers near,<br>Forgive!"--she ceas'd, and shed no more a tear.<br>Now night descends, and steeps each weary breast,<br>Save sad ACILOE'S , in the balm of rest.<br>Her aged father's beauteous dwelling stood<br>Near the cool shelter of a waving wood;<br>But now the gales that bend its foliage die,<br>Soft on the silver turf its shadows lie;<br>While slowly wand'ring o'er the vale below,<br>The gazing moon look'd pale as silent woe.<br>The sacred shade, amid whose fragrant bowers<br>ZAMOR oft sooth'd with song the evening hours,<br>Pour'd to the lunar orb his magic lay,<br>More mild, more pensive than her musing ray,<br>That shade with trembling step the mourner sought,<br>And thus she breath'd her tender, plaintive thought:--<br>"Ah where, dear object of these piercing pains,<br>Where rests thy murder'd form, thy Lov'd remains?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">On what sad spot, my ZAMOR , flow'd the wound<br>That purpled with thy streaming blood the ground?<br>O, had ACILOE in that hour been nigh,<br>Hadst thou but fix'd on me thy closing eye,--<br>Told with faint voice, 'twas death's worst pang to part,<br>And dropp'd thy last cold tear upon my heart!<br>A pang less bitter then would waste this breast,<br>That in the grave alone shall seek its rest.<br>Soon as some friendly hand in mercy leads<br>My aged father safe to Chili's meads,<br>Death shall for ever seal the nuptial tie,<br>The heart belov'd by thee is fix'd to die."--<br>She ceas'd, when dimly thro' her flowing tears<br>She sees her ZAMOR'S form, his voice she hears.<br>" 'Tis he!" she cries, "he moves upon the gale!<br>My ZAMOR'S sigh is deep---his look is pale--<br>I faint--" his arms receive her sinking frame,--<br>He calls his love by every tender name;<br>He stays her fleeting spirit--life anew<br>Warms her cold cheek--his tears her cheek bedew.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Thy ZAMOR lives," he cried: "as on the ground<br>I senseless lay, some child of pity bound<br>My bleeding wounds, and bore me from the plain,--<br>But thou art lost, and I have liv'd in vain!"<br>"Forgive," she cried, in accents of despair,<br>ZAMOR , forgive thy wrongs, and O forbear,<br>The mild reproach that fills thy mournful eye,<br>The tear that wets thy cheek--I mean to die.<br>Could I behold my aged sire endure<br>The pains his wretched child had power to cure?<br>Still, still my father, stretch'd in death, I see,<br>His grey locks trembling while he gaz'd on me;<br>My ZAMOR , soft, breathe not so loud a sigh,<br>Some list'ning foe may pityless deny<br>This parting hour--hark, sure some step I hear,<br>ZAMOR again is lost--for now 'tis near."--<br>She paus'd, when sudden from the shelt'ring wood<br>A venerable form before them stood:<br>"Fear not, soft maid," he cried, "nor think I come<br>To seal with deeper miseries thy doom;<br>To bruise the broken heart that sorrow rends,<br>Ah, not for this LAS CASAS hither bends--<br>He comes to bid those rising sorrows cease,<br>To pour upon thy wounds the balm of peace.<br>I rov'd with dire ALMAGRO'S ruthless train,<br>Through scenes of death, to Chili's verdant plain;<br>Their wish to bathe that verdant plain in gore,<br>Then from its bosom drag the golden ore:<br>But mine to check the stream of human blood,<br>Or mingle drops of pity with the flood;<br>When from those fair, unconquered vales they fled<br>This languid frame was stretch'd upon the bed<br>Of pale disease; when, helpless and alone,<br>The Chilese 'spied their friend, the murd'rers gone,<br>With eager fondness round my couch they drew,<br>And my cold hand with gushing tears bedew;<br>By day they soothe my pains with sweet delight,<br>And give to watchings the dull hours of night;<br>For me their gen'rous bosoms joy to prove<br>The cares of pity, and the toils of love--<br>At length for me the pathless wild they trac'd,<br>And softly bore me o'er its dreary waste;<br>Then parting, at my feet they bend, and clasp<br>These aged knees--my soul yet feels their grasp!<br>Now o'er the vale with painful step I stray'd,<br>And reach this shelt'ring grove; here, hapless maid,<br>My list'ning ear has caught thy piercing wail,<br>My heart has trembled to thy moving tale."--<br>"And art thou he?" the mournful pair exclaim,<br>'"How dear to mis'ry's soul LAS CASAS ' name!<br>Spirit benign, who every grief can share,<br>Whose pity stoops to make the wretch its care,<br>Weep not for us--in vain thy tears shall flow<br>For cureless evils, and for hopeless woe!"--<br>"Come," he replied, "mild suff'rers, to the fane<br>Where rests ALPHONSO with his martial train;<br>My voice shall urge his soul to gen'rous deeds,<br>And bid him hear when truth and nature pleads."<br>While in meek tones LAS CASAS thus exprest<br>His pious purpose, o'er ACILOE'S breast<br>A dawning ray of cheering comfort streams,<br>But faint the hope that on her spirit beams;<br>Faint as when ebbing life must soon depart,<br>The pulse that trembles while it warms the heart.<br>Before ALPHONSO now the lovers stand,<br>The aged suff'rer joined the mournful band;<br>While, with the look that guardian seraphs wear,<br>When sent to calm the throbs of mortal care,<br>The story of their woes LAS CASAS told,<br>Then cried, "the wretched ZAMOR here behold--<br>Hop'st thou, fond man, a passion to controul<br>Fix'd in the breast, and woven in the soul?<br>Ah, know, mistaken youth, thy power in vain<br>Would bind thy victim in the nuptial chain;<br>That faithful heart will rend the galling tie,<br>That heart will break, that tender frame will die!<br>Then, by each sacred name to nature dear,<br>By faithful passion's agonizing tear,<br>By all the wasting pangs that tear her breast,<br>By the deep groan that gives the suff'rer rest,<br>Let mercy's pleading voice thy bosom move,<br>And fear to burst the bonds of plighted love!"<br>He paus'd--now ZAMOR'S moan ALPHONSO hears;<br>Now sees the cheek of age bedew'd with tears.<br>Pallid and motionless ACILOE stands,<br>Fix'd was her lifted eye, and clasp'd her hands;<br>Her heart was chill'd--her fainting heart--for there<br>Hope slowly sinks in cold and dark despair.<br>ALPHONSO'S soul was mov'd--"No more," he cried,<br>"My hapless flame shall hearts like yours divide.<br>Live, tender spirit, soft ACILOE live,<br>And all the wrongs of madd'ning rage forgive!<br>Go from this desolated region far,<br>These plains, where av'rice spreads the waste of war;<br>Go where pure pleasures gild the peaceful scene,<br>Go where mild virtue sheds her ray serene!"<br>In vain th' enraptur'd lovers would impart<br>The rising joy that swells, that pains the heart;<br>LAS CASAS ' feet in tears ACILOE steeps,<br>Looks on her sire and smiles, then turns and weeps;<br>Then smiles again, while her flush'd cheek reveals<br>The mingled tumult of delight she feels;--<br>So fall the crystal showers of fragrant Spring,<br>And o'er the pure, clear sky, soft-shadows fling;<br>Then paint the drooping clouds from which they flow<br>With the warm colours of the lucid bow.<br>Now o'er the barren desert ZAMOR leads<br>ACILOE and her sire to Chili's meads;<br>There many a wand'ring wretch, condemn'd to roam<br>By hard oppression, found a shelt'ring home:<br>ZAMOR to pity tun'd the vocal shell,<br>Bright'ning the tear of anguish as it fell.<br>Did e'er the human bosom throb with pain<br>The heav'nly muse has sought to soothe in vain?<br>She, who can still with harmony its sighs,<br>And wake the sound at which affection dies!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Helen+Maria+Williams">Helen Maria Williams</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=407944" data-title="Peruvian Tales: Aciloe, Tale V de Helen Maria Williams" data-description="Character of ZAMOR , a bard--His passion for ACILOE , daughter of the Cazique who rules the valley--The Peruvian tribe prepare to defend themselves--A battle--The PERUVIANS are vanquished--ACILOE'S father is made a prisoner, and ZAMOR is supposed ..."></div> </div> </div>
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