Sidor som bilder

A glen beneath-a lonely spot of rest-

Hung, scarce discover'd, like an eagle's nest.

Summer was in its prime: the parrot-flocks SCENE.-South America,

Darken’d the passing sunshine on the rocks ; Characters.-Valdivia, commander of the Spanish ar The chrysomel* and purple butterfly,t mies-Lautaro, his page, a native of Chili-ANSELMO, Amid the clear blue light, are wandering by ; the missionary-INDIANA, his adopted daughter, wise of Laularo---ZARINBL, the wandering minstrel.

The humming-bird, along the myrtle bowers, Indians. — ATTACAPAC, father or Lautaro – OLOLA, his With twinkling wing, is spinning o'er the flowers,

daughter, sister of Lautaro--CAUPOLICAN, chief of the The woodpecker is heard with busy bill, Indians-INDIAN WARRIORS.

The mock-bird sings—and all beside is still.
The chief event of the poem turns upon the conduct of And look! the cataract that bursts so high,

Lautaro; but as the Missionary acts so distinguished a As not to mar the deep tranquillity,
part, and as the whole of the moral depends upon him, The tumult of its dashing fall suspends,
it was thought better to retain the title which was ori. And, stealing drop by drop, in mist descends ;
ginally given to the poem.

Through whose illumined spray and sprinkling


Shine to the adverse sun the broken rainbow hues. When o'er th’ Atlantic wild, rock'd by the blast, Sad Lusitania's exiled sovereign pass’d,

Checkering with partial shade the beams of noon, Rest of her pomp, from her paternal throne

And arching the gray reck with wild festoon, Cast forth, and wandering to a clime unknown,

Here, its gay net-work and fantastic twipe, To seek a refuge on that distant shore,

The purple cogulf threads from pine to pine, That once her country's legions dyed with gore;

And oft, as the fresh airs of morning breathe, Sudden, methought, high-towering o'er the flood,

Dips its long tendrils in the stream beneath. Hesperian world! thy mighty Genius stood;

There, through the trunks, with moss and lichens Where spread, from cape to cape, from bay to bay,

white, Serenely blue, the vast Pacific lay;

The sunshine darts its interrupted light, And the huge Cordilleras, to the skies,

And, 'mid the cedar's darksome boughs, illumes, With all their burning summits* seem'd to rise.

With instant touch, the Lori's scarlet plumes. Then the stern spirit spoke, and to his voice

So smiles the scene ;--but can its smiles impart The waves and woods replied—“ Mountains, re- Aught to console yon mourning warrior's heart? joice!

He heeds not now, when beautifully bright, Thou solitary sea, whose billows sweep

The humming-bird is circling in his sight; The margin of my forests, dark and deep,

Nor e'en, above his head, when air is still, Rejoice! the hour is come: the mortal blow,

Hlears the green woodpecker's resounding bill That smote the golden shrines of Mexico,

But gazing on the rocks and mountain wild, In Europe is avenged! and thou, proud Spain,

Rock after rock, in glittering masses piled Now hostile hosts insult thy own domain;

To the volcano's cone, that shoots so high Now fate, vindictive, rolls, with refluent food,

Gray smoke whose column stains the cloudless sky, Back on thy shores the tide of human blood.

He cries, “0! if thy spirit yet be fled Think of my murder'd millions of the crics

To the pale kingdoms of the shadowy dead, That once I heard from all my kingdoms rise;

In yonder tract of purest light above, Of famine's feeble plaint, of slavery's tear;

Dear long-lost object of a father's love,

Dost thou abide? or like a shadow come,
Think, too, if valour, freedom, fame, be dear,-
How my Antarctic sons,t undaunted, stood,

Circling the scenes of thy remember'd home,
Exacting groan for groan, and blood for blood;

And passing with the breeze? or, in the beam
And shouted, (may the sounds be hail'd by thee!) or evening, light the desert mountain stream?

Or at deep midnight are thine accents heard,
In the sad notes of that melodious bird,

Which, as we listen with mysterious dread,

Brings tidings from our friends and fathers dead?




* The crysomela is a beautiful insect, of which the One day and part of night.

young women of Chili make necklaces.

† The parrot butterfly, peculiar to this part of America, Valley in the Andes-Old Indian warrior-Loss of his son

the largest and most brilliant of its kind-Papilio psit. and daughter.

tacus. BENEATH aërial cliffs and glittering snows,

# A most beautiful climbing plant. The vine is of the The rush-roof of an aged warrior rose,

size of packthread: it climbs on the trees without attach

ing itself to them: when it reaches the top, it descends Chief of the mountain tribes: high overhead

perpendicularly; and as it continues to grow, it extend's The Andes, wild and desolate, were spread, itself from tree to tree, until it offers to the eye a confused Where cold Sierras shot their icy spires,

tissue, exhibiting some resemblance to the rigging of a And Chillant trail'd its smoke and smouldering fires. ship.-Molina.

§ “But because I cannot describe all the American

birds, which differ not a little from ours, not only in kind, * Range of volcanoes on the summits of the Andes. but also in variety of colour, as rose-colour, red, violet, The natives of Chili, who were never subdued. white, ash-colour, purple, &c.; I will at length describe A volcano in Chili.

one, which the barbarians so observe and esteem, that

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“Perhaps, beyond those summits, far away, Her ankles rung with shells, as unconfined, Thine eyes yet view the living light of day; She danced, and sung wild carols to the wind. Sad in the stranger's land, thou mayst sustain With snow-white teeth, and laughter in her eye, A weary life of servitude and pain,

So beautiful in youth, she bounded by. With wasted eye gaze on the orient beam,

Yet kindness sat upon her aspect bland, And think of these white rocks and torrent stream, The tame alpaca* stood and lick'd her hand; Never to hear the summer cocoa wave,

She brought him gather'd moss, and loved to deck Or weep upon thy father's distant grave.”

With flowery twine his tall and stately neck; Ye, who have waked, and listen’d with a tear, Whilst he with silent gratitude replies, When cries confused, and clangours rollid more And bends to her caress his large blue eyes. near;

These children danced together in the shade, Wiih murmur'd prayer, when mercy stood aghast, Or stretch?1 their hands to see the rainbow fade ; As war's black trump peal’d its terrific blast, Or sat and mock'd, with imitative glee, And o'er the wither'd earth the armed giant pass'd! The paroquet, that laugh'd from tree to tree; Ye, who his track with terror have pursued, Or through the forest's wildest solitude, When some delightful land, all blood-imbrued, From glen to glen, the maimozet pursued; He swept; where silent is the champaign wide, And thought the light of parting day too short, That echoed to the pipe of yester-tide,

That call’d them, lingering, from their daily sport. Save, when far off, the moonlight hills prolong In that fair season of awakening life, The last deep echocs of his parting gong;

When dawning youth and childhood are at strife; Nor aught is seen, in the deserted spot

When on the verge of thought gay boyhood stands Where trailed the smoke of many a peaceful cot, Tiptoe, with glistening eye and outspread hands Save livid corpses that unburied lic,

With airy look, and form and footsteps light, And conflagrations, reeking to the sky;-

And glossy locks, and features berry-bright, Come listen, whilst the causes I relate

And eye like the young eaglet's, to the ray That bow'd tlie warrior to the storms of fate, Of noon, unblenching, as he sails away; And left these smiling scenes forlorn and desolate. A brede of sea-shells on his bosom strung, In other days, when in his manly pride,

A small stone hatchet o'er his shoulders slung, Two children for a father's fondness vied, With slender lance, and feathers, blue and red, Oft they essay'd, in mimic strife, to wield

That, like the heron’st crest, waved on his head,His lance, or laughing peep'd behind his shield. Buoyant with hope, and airiness, and joy, Oft in the sun, or the magnolia's shade,

Lautaro was the loveliest Indian boy : Lightsome of heart as gay of look, they play'd, Taught by his sire, e'en now he drew the bow Brother and sister: she, along the dew,

Or track'd the jaguar on the morning snow ; Blithe as the squirrel of the forest, fiew;

Startled the condor, on the craggy height; Blue rushes wreath'd her head; her dark brown | Then silent sat, and mark'd its upward fight, hair

Lessening in ether to a speck of white. Feil, gently lifted, on her bosom bare ;

But when th' impassion'd chieftain spoke of war Jer necklace shone, of sparkling insects made, Smote his broad breast, or pointed to a scar,That flit, like specks of fire, from sun to shade : Spoke of the strangers of the distant main, Light was her form; a clasp of silver braced And the proud banners of insulting Spain,-The azure-dyed ichella* round her waist;

Of the barb'd horse and iron horseman spoke,

And his red gods, that wrapt in rolling smoke, they will not only not hurt them, but suffer them not to Roar'd from the guns,—the boy, with still-drawn escape unrevenged who do them any wrong. It is of the breath, bigness of a pigeon, and of an ash-colour. The Tououpi- Hung on the wondrous tale, as mute as death ; nambaltii hear her more often in the night than in the Then raised his animated eyes, and cried, day, with a mournful voice; and believe that it is sent from their friends and kindred unto them, and also de “O let me perish by my father's side !" clareth good luck; and especially, that it encourageth Once, when the moon, o'er Chilian's cloudless and admonisheth them to behave themselves valiantly in height, the wars against their enemies. Besides, they verily Pour'd, far and wide, its soft and mildest light, think, that if they rightly observe these divinations, it

A predatory band of mailed men siall come to pass that they should vanquish their enemies even in this life, and after death their souls should Burst on the stillness of the shelter'd glen, fly beyond the mountains to their ancestors, perpetually They shouted“ death,” and shook their sabres high, to dance there.

That shone terrific to the moonlight sky : “ I chanced once to lodge in a village, named Upec by Where'er they rode, the valley and the hill the Frenchmen: there, in the night, I heard these birds, Echoed the shrieks of death, till all again was still. not singing, but making a lamentable noise. I saw the The warrior, ere he sunk in slumber deep, barbarians most attentive, and being ignorant of the whole matter, reproved their folly. But when I smiled a little

Had kiss'd his son, soft-breathing in his sleep, upon a Frenchman standing by me, a certain old man,

Where on a llama's skin he lay, and said, severely enough, restrained me with these words: ‘Hold Placing his band, with tears, upon his head, your peace, lest you hinder us who attentively hearken to the happy tidings of our ancestors. For as often as we hear these birds, so often also are we cheered, and our * The alpaca is perhaps the most beautiful, gentle, and strength receiveth increase.' "- Calleruler's Voyage. interesting of living animals: one was to be seen in Lon

* The ichella is a short cloak, of a greenish blue colour, don in 1812. of wool, fastened before with a silver buckle.- Molina. Ardea cristala.



“ Aërial nymphs !* that in the moonlight stray, “What tidings ?” with impatient look, he cried. 0, gentle spirits ! here a while delay;

“ Tidings of war,” the hurrying scout replied ; Bless, as ye pass unseen, my sleeping boy,

Then the sharp pipe * with shriller summons blew, Till blithe he wakes to daylight and to joy. And held the blood-red arrow high in view. + If the Great Spirit will, in future days O’er the fall’n foe his hatchet he shall raise, And, ʼmid a grateful nation's high applause,

“Where speed the foes ?” Avenge his violated country's cause!”

Now, nearer points of spears, and many a cone
Of moving helmets, in the moonlight shone,

“ Along the southern main, As, clanking through the pass, the band of blood

“Have pass'd the vultures of accursed Spain.” Sprung, like hyenas, from the secret wood.

CHIEF. They rush-they seize their unresisting prey

“Ruin pursue them on the distant flood, Ruthless they tear the shrieking boy away;

And be their deadly portion-blood for blood !” But not till, gash'd by many a sabre wound, The father sunk, expiring, on the ground. He waked, from the dark trance, to life and pain,

“ When, round and red, the moon shall next arise, But never saw his darling child again.

The chiefs attend the midnight sacrifice Seven snows had fall'n, and seven green summers

In Encol's wood, where the great wizard dwells, passid,

Who wakes the dead man with his thrilling spells; Since here he heard that son's loved accents last.

Thee,f Olmen of the mountains, they command Still his beloved daughter soothed his cares,

To lift the hatchet, for thy native land; While time began to strew with white his hairs

Whilst in dread circle, round the sere-wood smoke, Oft as his painted feathers he unbound,

The mighty gods of vengeance they invoke; Or gazed upon his hatchet on the ground,

And call the spirits of their father's slain, Musing with deep despair, nor strove to speak,

To nerve their lifted arm, and curse devoted Spain." Light she approach'd, and climb'd to reach his so spoke the scout of war;—and o'er the dew cheek,

Onward, along the craggy valley, flew. Held with both hands his forehead, then her head

Then the stern warrior sung his song of deathDrew smiling back, and kiss'd the tear he shed.

And blew his conch, that all the glens beneath But late, to grief and hopeless love a prey,

Echoed, and rushing from the hollow wood,
She left his side, and wander'd far away.

Soon at his side three hundred warriors stood.
Now in this still and shelter'd glen, that smiled
Beneath the crags of precipices wild,
Wrapt in a stern yet sorrowsul repose,

“ Children, who for his country dares to die ?” The warrior had forgot his country's woes, - Three hundred brandish'd spears shone to the Forgot how many, impotent to save,

sky. Shed their best blood upon a father's grave; “We perish, or we leave our country free; How many,

torn from wife and children, pine Father, our blood for Chili and for thee !" In the dark caverns of the hopeless mine,

Their long lank hair hung wild: with clashing Never to see again the blessed morn

sound, Slaves in the lovely land where they were born; They smote their shields, and stamp'd upon the How many, at sad sunset, with a tear,

ground! The distant roar of sullen cannons hear,

The eagle, from his unapproach'd retreat, Whilst evening seems, as dies the sound, to throw Scared at their cries, has left his craggy seat. A deadlier stillness on a nation's wo!

“Enough!" the warrior cried, “retire toSo the dark warrior, day succeeding day,

night :Wore in distemper'd thought the noons away; Let the same spirit fire us in the fight, And still, when weary evening came, he sigh’d, That the proud Spaniard, ʼmid his guards, may know “My son, my son!” or, with emotion, cried, How dire it is to have one race his foe, " When I descend to the cold grave alone,

One poor, brave race, to their loved country true, Who shall be there to mourn for me?-Not one!”+ Wbich all his glittering hosts shall ne'er subdue !"

The crimson orb of day, now westering, flung The mountain chief essay'd his club to wield, His beams, and o'er the vast Pacific hung;

And shook the dust indignant from the shield.
When from afar a shrilling sound was heard, Then spoke :--
And, hurrying o'er the dews, a scout appear'd.

“O Thou! that with thy lingering light The starting warrior knew the piercing tones, Dost warm the world, till all is hush'd in night; The signal call of war, from human bones.

I look upon thy parting beams, O sun !
And say, 'E'en thus my course is almost run.'


* Every warrior of Chili, according to Molina, has his * Their pipes of war are made of the bones of their attendant“ nymph” or fairy-the belief of which is nearly enemies, who have been sacrificed. similar to the popular and poetical idea of those beings in + The way in which the warriors are summoned is Europe.-Meulen is the benevolent spirit.

something like the “running the cross” in Scotland, which +I have taken this line from the conclusion of the cele- is so beautifully described by Walter Scotl. The scouts brated speech of the old North American warrior, Logan. on this occasion bear an arrow bound with red filleis. Who is there to mourn for Logan ? not one!"

Ulmen is the same as casique, or chief.

“When thou dost hide thy head, as in the grave, Perhaps, c'en now thy spirit sees me stand And sink to glorious rest beneath the wave, A homeless stranger in my native land; Dost thou, majestic in repose, retire,

Perhaps, e'en now, along the moonlight sea, Below the deep, to unknown worlds of fire ? It bends from the blue cloud, remembering me. Yet though thou sinkest, awful, in the main, “ Land of my fathers, yet- yet forgive, The shadowy moon comes forth, and all the train That with thy deadly enemies I live. Of stars, that shine with soft and silent light, The tenderest ties (it boots not to relate) Making so beautiful the brow of night.

Have bound me to their service, and their fate;
Thus, when I sleep within the narrow bed, Yet, whether on Peru's war-wasted plain,
The light of after-fame around shall spread; Or visiting these sacred shores again,
The sons of distant ocean, when they see

Whate'er the struggles of this heart may be,
The grass-green heap beneath the mountain tree, Land of my fathers, it shall beat for thce!”
And hear the leafy boughs at evening wave,
Shall pause and say, “There sleep in dust the


ARGUMENT. All earthly hopes my lonely heart have fled ! Stern Guecubu,* augel of the dead,

The second day. Who laughest when the brave in pangs expire, Night-Spirit of the Andes-Valdivia-Lautaro-MissionWhose dwelling is bencath the central fire

ary-The hermitage. of yonder burning mountain ; who hast pass'd The night was still, and clear-when, o'er the O'er my poor dwelling, and with one fell blast

Scatter'd my summer leaves that cluster'd round, Andes ! thy melancholy spirit rose,
And swept my fairest blossoms to the ground; A shadow stern and sad: He stood alone,
Angel of dire despair, O come not nigh,

Upon the topmost mountain's burning cone;
Nor wave thy red wings o'er me where I lie; And whilst his eyes shone dim, through surging
But thou, O mild and gentle spirit, stand,

smoke, Angel* of hope and peace, at my right hand,

Thus to the spirits of the fire he spoke :(When blood-drops stagnate on my brow) and “ Ye, who tread the hidden deeps, guide

Where the silent earthquake sleeps ; My pathless voyage o'er the unknown tide,

Ye, who track the sulphurous tide, To scenes of endless joy-to that fair isle,

Or on hissing vapours ride, Where bowers of bliss and soft savannahs smile;

Spirits, come! Where my forefathers oft the fight renew,

From worlds of subterraneous night; And Spain's black visionary steeds pursue ;

From fiery realms of lurid light; Where, ceased the struggles of all human pain,

From the ore's unfathom'd bed; I may behold thee—thee-my son, again.”

From the lava’s whirlpools red, He spoke, and whilst at evening's glimmering

Spirits, come! close

On Chili's foes rush with vindictive sway, The distant mist, like the gray ocean, rose,

And sweep them from the light of living day! With patriot sorrows swelling at his breast,

Hark! heard ye not the ravenous brood ? He sunk upon a jaguar's hide to rest.

They flap their wings; they scream for blood :'Twas night. Remote on Caracalla's bay,

On Peru's devoted shore Valdivia's army, hush'd in slumber, lay.

Their murderous beaks are red with gore: Around the limits of the silent camp,

Hither, impatient for new prey, Alone was heard the steed's patrolling tramp

Th’insatiate vultures track their way! From line to line, whilst the fix'd centinel

Rise, Chili, rise! scatter the bands Proclaim'd the watch of midnight—"All is well!” That swept remote and peaceful lands Valdivia dreamt of millions yet untold,

Let them perish! Vengeance criesVillrica's gems, and El Dorado's gold

Let them perish! Death replies. What different feelings, by the scene impress'd, Spirits, now your caves forsake ! Rose, in sad tumult, o'er Lautaro's breast!

Hark! ten thousand warriors wake! On the broad ocean, where the moonlight slept, Spirits, their high cause defend Thoughtful he turn’d his waking eyes, and wept,

From your caves ascend! ascend !"And whilst the thronging forms of memory start, As thus the vast, terrific phantom spoke, Thus holds communion with his lonely heart: The trembling mountain heaved with darker smoke; “ Land of my fathers, still I tread your shore,

Flashes of red and angry light appear'd, And mourn the shade of hours that are no more; And moans and momentary shrieks were heard ; Whilst night-airs, like remember'd voices, sweep, The cavern'd deeps shook through their vast proAnd murmur from the undulating deep.

found, Was it thy voice, my father ?—thou art dead And Chimborazo's height rollid back the sound. The green rush waves on thy forsaken bed.

With lifted arm, and towering stature high, Was it thy voice, my sister ?-gentle maid, And aspect frowning to the middle sky, Thou too, perhaps, in the dark cave art laid; (Its misty form dilated in the wind,)

The phantom stood, -till, less and less defined, * They have their evil and good spirits. Guecubu is the Into thin air it faded from the sight, evil spirit of the Chilians.

Lost in the ambient haze of slow-returning light.

Its feathery-seeming crown,-its giant spear, Though pass'd in tears the dayspring of his youth, Its limbs of huge proportion, disappear;

Valdivia loved his gratitude and truth: And the bare mountains, to the dawn, disclose He, in Valdivia, own'd a pobler friend; The same long line of solitary snows.

Kind to protect, and mighty to defend. The morning shines,—the military train, So, on he rode: upon his youthful mien In warlike muster on the tented plain,

A mild but sad intelligence was seen: Glitter, and cuirasses, and helms of steel,

Courage was on his open brow, yet care Throw back the sunbeams, as the horsemen Seem's, like a wandering shade, to linger there; wheel:

And though his eye shone, as the eagle's, bright, Thus, with arms glancing to the eastern light, It beam'd with humid, melancholy light. Pass, in review, proud steeds and cohorts bright; When now Valdivia saw th’embattled lice, For all the host, by break of morrow gray,

Helmets, and swords, and shields, and matchlocks, Wind back their march to Penco's northern bay.

shine, Valdivia, fearful lest confederate foes,

Now the long phalanx still and steady stand, Ambush'd and dark, his progress might oppose, Fix'd every eye, and motionless each hand, Marshals, to-day, the whole collected force, Then slowly clustering, into columns wheel, File and artillery, cuirassier and horse:

Each with the red-cross banners of Castile; Himself yet lingers ere he joins the train,

While trumps, and drums, and cymbals, to his ear,
That move, in order'd march, along the plain, Made music such as soldiers love to hear,
While troops, and Indian slaves beneath his eye While horsemen check'd their steeds,-or, bending
The labours of the rising city* ply:

Wide glows the general toil—the mole extends, With levellid lances, o'er the saddle-bow,
The watch-tower o'er the desert surge ascends; Rode gallantly at tilt,-and thunders broke,
And battlements, and rising ramparts, shine Instant involving van and rear in smoke,
Above the ocean's blue and level line.

Till winds th' obscuring volume rollid away,
The sun ascended to meridian height,

And the red file, stretch'd out in long array, And all the northern bastions shone in light; More radiant moved beneath the beams of day, With hoarse acclaim, the gong and trumpet rung, - While ensigns, arms, and crosses, glitter'd bright,The Moorish slaves aloft their cymbals swung, - “ Philip !"* he cried, “seest thou the glorious When the proud victor, in triumphant state,

sight, Rode forth, in arms, through the portcullis gate. And dost thou deem the tribes of this poor land

With neck high arching, as he smote the ground, - Can men, and arms, and steeds, like these, withAnd restless pawing to the trumpets' sound,

stand ?" With mantling mane, o'er his broad shoulders “ Forgive !" the youth replied, and check'd a spread,

tear,And nostrils blowing, and dilated red,

“ The land where my forefathers sleep is dear! The coal-black steed, in rich caparison

My native land! this spot of blessed earth, Far trailing to the ground, went proudly on: The scene where I, and all I love, had birth! Proudly he tramp'd as conscious of his charge, What gratitude, fidelity can give, And turn'd around his eyeballs, bright and large, Is yours, my lord! You shielded--bade me live, And shook the frothy boss, as in disdain ;

When, in the circuit of the world so wide And toss'd the flakes, indignant, of his mane ; I had but one, one only friend beside. And, with high swelling veins, exulting pressid I bow'd--resign'd to fate; I kiss'd the hand, Proudly against the barb, his heaving breast. Red with the best blood of my father's land! †

The fate of empires glowing in his thought, But mighty as thou art, Valdivia, know, Thus arın'd, the tented field Valdivia sought. Though Cortez' desolating march laid low On the left side his poised shield he bore,

The shrines of rich, voluptuous Mexico, With quaint devices richly blazon'd o'er ;

With carcasses, though proud Pizarro strew Above the plumes, upon his helmet's cone, The sun's imperial temple in Peru,Castile's imperial crest illustrious shone ;

Yet the rude dwellers of this land are brave, Blue in the wind th' escutcheon'd mantle flow'd, And the last spot they lose will be their grave !" O’er the chain'd mail, which tinkled as he rode. A inoment's crimson cross'd Valdivia's cheekThe barred visor raised, you might discern Then o'er the plain he spurr'd, nor deign’d to speak, Hist clime-changed countenance, though pale, yet Waving the youth, at distance, to retire: stern,

None saw the eye that shot terrific fire : And resolute as death,-whilst in his eye

As their commander sternly rode along, Sat proud assurance, fame, and victory.

Troop after troop, halted the martial throng; Lautaro, now in manhood's rising pride, And all the pennon'd trumps a louder blast Rode, with a lance, attendant, at his side,

Blew, as the southern world's great victor pass’d. In Spanish mantle gracefully array'd:

Lautaro turnd, scarce heeding, from the view, Upon his brow a tuft of feathers playd:

And from the noise of trumps and drums withdrew; His glossy locks, with dark and mantling grace, And now, while troubled thoughts his bosom swell, Shaded the noonday sunbeams on his face. Seeks the gray Missionary's humble cell.

* The city Baldivia.

He had served in die wars of Italy.

*Lautaro had been baptized by that name.
+ Valdivia had before been in Chili.

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