"Stand, noble steed! this hour of need be gentle as a lamb : Which the first stroke of coming strife Would startle into hideous life; I'll kiss the foam from off thy mouth-thy So dense, so still, the Austrians stood, A living wall, a human wood! master dear I am Mount, Juan, mount! whate'er betide, Impregnable their front appears, away the bridle fling, And plunge the rowels in his side.-My horse shall save my King! "Nay, never speak; my sires, Lord King, received their land from yours, And joyfully their blood shall spring, so be it thine secures : All horrent with projected spears, Whose polish'd points before them shine, From flank to flank, one brilliant line, Bright as the breakers' splendors run Along the billows, to the Sun. Opposed to these, a hovering band Contended for their native land: If I should fly, and thou, my King, be Peasants, whose new-found strength had How could I stand 'mong gentlemen, such From manly necks the ignoble yoke, scorn on my gray head? And forged their fetters into swords, On equal terms to fight their lords : "Castile's proud dames shall never point And what insurgent rage had gain'd, the finger of disdain, And say there's ONE that ran away when our good lords were slain !— In many a mortal fray maintain'd; Marshall'd once more at Freedom's call, They came to conquer or to fall, I leave Diego in your care-you'll fill his Where he who conquer'd, he who fell, father's place: Strike, strike the spur, and never spare God's blessing on Your Grace!" So spake the brave Montañez, Butrago's lord was he; And turn'd him to the coming host in steadfastness and glee; He flung himself among them, as they came down the hill Was deem'd a dead or living Tell! And now the work of life and death Hung on the passing of a breath; He died, God wot! but not before his The fire of conflict burnt within, sword had drunk its fill. (From the Spanish.) JOHN GIBSON LOCKHART. MAKE WAY FOR LIBERTY. "MAKE way for liberty!"-he cried; Made way for liberty, and died! In arms the Austrian phalanx stood, Till time to dust their frames should wear; The battle trembled to begin : Yet while the Austrians held their ground, How could they rest within their graves, It must not be: this day, this hour, Few were the number she could boast; It did depend on one, indeed; Till you might see, with sudden grace, Tell where the bolt would strike, and how. But 'twas no sooner thought than done, "Make way for Liberty!" he cried, "Make way for Liberty!" he cried: Swift to the breach his comrades fly; heart; While, instantaneous as his fall, Thus Switzerland again was free: JAMES MONTGOMERY. THE BALLAD OF AGINCOURT. And taking many a fort, With those that stopp'd his way, Which in his height of pride, To the king sending; Their fall portending. And turning to his men, Quoth our brave Henry then: Though they to one be ten, Be not amazed; Yet have we well begun- By fame been raised. And for myself, quoth he, Or on this earth lie slain; Loss to redeem me. Poitiers and Cressy tell, When most their pride did swell, Under our swords they fell; No less our skill is Than when our grandsire great, Lopp'd the French lilies. The duke of York so dread Amongst his henchmen. O Lord! how hot they were On the false Frenchmen! They now to fight are gone; To hear was wonder; Well it thine age became, To our hid forces; Struck the French horses, With Spanish yew so strong, Arrows a cloth-yard long, That like to serpents stung, Piercing the weather; None from his fellow starts, But playing manly parts, And like true English hearts, Stuck close together. When down their bows they threw, Not one was tardy: This while our noble king, As to o'erwhelm it; And many a deep wound lent, Bruised his helmet. Glo'ster, that duke so good, With his brave brotherClarence, in steel so bright, Though but a maiden knight, Yet in that furious fight Scarce such another. Warwick in blood did wade; Upon Saint Crispin's day To England to carry; Oh, when shall Englishmen. With such acts fill a pen, Or England breed again Such a King Harry? MICHAEL DRAYTON. THE BALLAD OF CHEVY-CHACE. A woefull hunting once there did To drive the deere with hound and horne, The child may rue that is unborne, The stout Erle of Northumberland The cheefest harts in Chevy-Chace Who sent Erle Percy present word, With fifteen hundred bow-men bold; The gallant greyhounds swiftly ran, And long before high noone they had The bow-men muster'd on the hills, And all their rear, with speciall care, The first man that did answer make Yet wee will spend our deerest blood, Then Douglas swore a solempne oathe, The hounds ran swiftly through the woods, Ere thus I will out-bravèd bee, That with their cryes the hills and dales Lord Percy to the quarry went, This day to meet me heere: But if I thought he wold not come, Loe, yonder doth Erle Douglas come, All men of pleasant Tivydale, Fast by the river Tweede : O cease your sports, Erle Percy said, And now with me, my countrymen, That ever did on horsebacke come, I durst encounter man for man, Erle Douglas on his milke-white steede, Whose armour shone like gold. Show me, sayd hee, whose men you bee, One of us two shall dye : I know thee well, an erle thou art; But trust me, Percy, pittye it were Let thou and I the battell trye, Then stept a gallant squier forth, To Henry our king for shame, That ere my captaine fought on foote You bee two erles, sayd Witherinton, Ile doe the best that doe I may, While I have power to stand: Our English archers bent their bowes, [Yet bides Earl Douglas on the bent, His host he parted had in three, To drive the deere with hound and horne, | Who never spake more words than these, Douglas bade on the bent; Two captaines moved with mickle might Their speares to shivers went. Throughout the English archery They dealt full many a wound: But still our valiant Englishmen All firmly kept their ground: And throwing strait their bows away, They grasp'd their swords so bright: And now sharp blows, a heavy shower, On shields and helmets light.] They closed full fast on everye side, O Christ! it was a griefe to see, And likewise for to heare, The cries of men lying in their gore, And scatter'd here and there. At last these two stout erles did meet, Like captaines of great might: Like lyons wood, they layd on lode, And made a cruell fight: They fought untill they both did sweat, Yeeld thee, Lord Percy, Douglas sayd; Thy ransome I will freely give, And this report of thee, Thou art the most courageous knight That ever I did see. Noe, Douglas, quoth Erle Percy then, I will not yeelde to any Scott, With that, there came an arrow keene Fight on, my merry men all; For why, my life is at an end; Lord Percy sees my fall. Then leaving liffe, Erle Percy tooke O Christ! my verry hert doth bleed A knight amongst the Scotts there was, Sir Hugh Mountgomery was he call'd, And past the English archers all, Without all dread or feare; And through Erle Percyes body then He thrust his hatefull speare; With such a vehement force and might The staff ran through the other side So thus did both these nobles dye, Whose courage none could staine⚫ An English archer then perceived The noble erle was slaine; He had a bow bent in his hand, Against Sir Hugh Mountgomerye, This fight did last from break of day Till setting of the sun, For when they rung the evening bell, The battle scarce was done. |