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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=407947" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Peruvian Tales: Cora, Tale IV</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">ALMAGRO'S expedition to Chili--His troops suffer great hardships from cold, in crossing the Andes--They reach Chili--The Chilians make a brave resistance--The revolt of the Peruvians in Cuzco---They are led on by MANCO CAPAC , the successor of ATALIBA --Parting with CORA , his wife--The Peruvians regain half their city--ALMAGRO leaves Chili--To avoid the Andes, he crosses a vast desert--His troops can find no water--They divide into two bands--ALPHONSO leads the second band, which soon reaches a fertile valley--The Spaniards observe that the natives are employed in searching the streams for gold--They resolve to attack them. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Now the stern partner of PIZARRO'S toils,<br>ALMAGRO , lur'd by hope of golden spoils,<br>To distant Chili's ever-verdant meads,<br>Through paths untrod, a band of warriors leads;<br>O'er the high Andes' frozen steeps they go,<br>And wander 'mid eternal hills of snow:<br>In vain the vivifying orb of day<br>Darts on th' impervious ice his fervent ray;<br>Cold, keen as chains the oceans of the pole,<br>Numbs the shrunk frame, and chills the vig'rous soul;<br>At length they reach luxuriant Chili's plain,<br>Where ends the dreary bound of winter's reign.<br>When first the brave Chilese, with eager glance,<br>Beheld the hostile sons of Spain advance,<br>Their threat'ning sabres red with purple streams,<br>Their lances quiv'ring in the solar beams,<br>With pale surprise they saw th' impending storm,<br>Where low'ring danger wore an unknown form;<br>But soon their spirits, stung with gen'rous shame,<br>Renounce each terror, and for vengeance flame;<br>Pant high with sacred freedom's ardent glow,<br>And meet intrepid the superior foe.<br>Long unsubdued by stern ALMAGRO'S train,<br>Their valiant tribes unequal fight maintain;<br>Long vict'ry hover'd doubtful o'er the field,<br>And oft she forc'd IBERIA'S band to yield;<br>Oft love from Spain's proud head her laurel bough,<br>And bade it blossom on PERUVIA'S brow;<br>When sudden tidings reach'd ALMAGRO'S ear,<br>That shook the warrior's soul with doubt and fear.<br>Of murder'd ATALIBA'S royal race<br>There yet remain'd a youth of blooming grace,<br>Who pin'd, the captive of relentless Spain,<br>And long in Cuzco dragg'd her galling chain;<br>CAPAC , whose lofty soul indignant bears<br>The rankling fetters, and revenge prepares.<br>But since his daring spirit must forego<br>The hope to rush upon the tyrant foe,<br>Led by his parent orb, that gives the day,<br>And fierce as darts the keen meridian ray,<br>He vows to bend unseen his hostile course,<br>Then on the victors rise with latent force,<br>As sudden from its cloud, the brooding storm,<br>Bursts in the thunder's voice, the light'ning's form.<br>For this, from stern PIZARRO he obtains<br>The boon, enlarg'd, to seek the neighb'ring plains,<br>For one bless'd day, and with his friend's unite,<br>To crown with solemn pomp an antient rite;<br>Share the dear pleasures of the social hour,<br>And 'mid their fetters twine one festal flower.<br>So spoke the Prince--far other thoughts possest,<br>Far other purpose animates his breast:<br>For now PERUVIA'S Nobles he commands<br>To lead, with silent step, her martial bands<br>Forth to the destin'd spot, prepared to dare<br>The fiercest shock of dire, unequal war;<br>While every sacred human interest pleads,<br>And urges the firm soul to lofty deeds.<br>Now CAPAC hail'd th' eventful morning's light,<br>Rose with its dawn, and panted for the fight;<br>But first with fondness to his heart he prest<br>The tender CORA , partner of his breast,<br>Who with her lord had sought the dungeon's gloom,<br>And wasted there in grief her early bloom.<br>&quot;No more,&quot; he cried, &quot;no more my love shall feel<br>The mingled agonies I fly to heal;--<br>I go, but soon exulting shall return,<br>And bid my faithful CORA cease to mourn;<br>For O, amid each pang my bosom knows,<br>What wastes, what wounds it most are CORA'S woes!<br>Sweet was the love that crown'd our happier hours,<br>And shed new fragrance o'er a path of flowers:<br>But sure divided sorrow more endears<br>The tie that passion seals with mutual tears!<br>He paus'd. Fast-flowing drops bedew'd her eyes,<br>While thus in mournful accents she replies:--<br>&quot;Still let me feel the pressure of thy chain,<br>Still share the fetters which my love detain;<br>The piercing iron to my soul is dear,<br>Nor will its sharpness wound while thou art near.<br>Look on our helpless babe, in mis'ry nurst--<br>My child! my child, thy mother's heart will burst!<br>O, wherefore bid the raging battle rise,<br>Nor hear this harmless suff'rer's feeble cries?<br>Look on those blades that pour a crimson flood,<br>And plunge their cruel edge in infant blood!&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She could no more--he sees with tender pain<br>Her grief, and leads her to a shelt'ring fane.<br>Now high in air his feather'd standard waves,<br>And soon from shrouding woods and hollow caves<br>To Cuzco's gate advance increasing throngs,<br>And, such their ardour, rous'd by sense of wrongs,<br>That vainly would PIZARRO'S vet'ran force<br>Arrest the torrent in its raging course;<br>Danger and death PERUVIA'S sons disdain,<br>And half their captive city soon regain.<br>When stern ALMAGRO heard the voice of fame<br>The triumphs of PERUVIA loud proclaim,<br>Unconquer'd Chili's vale he swift forsakes,<br>And his bold course to distant Cuzco takes.<br>But now he shuns the Andes' frozen snows,<br>The arrowy gale that on their summit blows;<br>A burning desert undismay'd he past,<br>And meets the ardors of the fiery blast.<br>As o'er the sultry waste they slowly move,<br>The keenest pang of raging thirst they prove;<br>No cooling fruit its grateful juice distils,<br>Nor flows one balmy drop from crystal rills;<br>For nature sickens in the parching beam<br>That shrinks the vernal bud and dries the stream;<br>While horror, as his giant stature grows,<br>O'er the drear void his spreading shadow throws.<br>ALMAGRO'S band now pale and fainting stray,<br>While death oft barr'd the sinking warrior's way;<br>At length the chief divides his martial force,<br>And bids ALPHONSO by a sep'rate course<br>Lead o'er the hideous desert half his train--<br>&quot;And search,&quot; he cried, &quot;this vast, untrodden plain,<br>Perchance some fruitage, with'ring in the breeze,<br>The pains of lessen'd numbers may appease;<br>Or heaven in pity from some genial shower<br>On the parch'd lip one precious drop may pour.&quot;<br>Not far the troops of young ALPHONSO went,<br>When sudden from a rising hill's ascent<br>They view a valley fed by fertile springs,<br>Which Andes from his snowy summit flings;<br>Where summer's flowers humected odours shed,<br>And wildly bloom, a waste by beauty spread.<br>And now ALPHONSO and his martial band<br>On the rich border of the valley stand;<br>They quaff the limpid stream with eager haste,<br>And the pure juice that swells the fruitage taste;<br>Then give to balmy rest the night's still hours,<br>Fann'd by the cooling gale that shuts the flowers.<br>Soon as the purple beam of morning glows,<br>Refresh'd from all their toils, the warriors rose;<br>And saw the gentle natives of the mead<br>Search the clear currents for the golden seed,<br>Which from the mountain's height with headlong sweep<br>The torrents bear in many a shining heap;<br>IBERIA'S sons beheld with anxious brow<br>The tempting lure, then breathe th' unpitying vow<br>O'er those fair lawns to pour a sanguine flood,<br>And dye those lucid streams with guiltless blood.<br>Thus while the humming-bird, in beauty drest,<br>Enchanting offspring of the ardent west,<br>Attunes his tender song to notes of love,<br>Mild as the murmurs of the morning dove,<br>While his rich plumage glows with brighter hues,<br>And with soft bill he sips the scented dews,<br>The savage condor on terrific wings,<br>From Andes' frozen steeps relentless springs;<br>And, quiv'ring in his fangs, his helpless prey<br>Drops his weak wing, and sighs his soul away.</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>
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