FELIX AND MARIAQUITA.

AN EPISODE.

From the "War of the Isles," a Poem, in Ten Cantos, now in the

WHERE Guadalquiver rolls its limpid stream,
Near to thy ancient Corduba, Oh! Spain;
Where nature showered its bounties, Sol his beam,
And all was smiling as the golden reign,
Which blessed the shepherds of Arcadia's plain,
Young Mariaquita dwelt, of Spanish girls
The fairest blossom in their lovely train;

The fairest of the land, where beauty twirls
The castanet, and love his silken flag unfurls.

Sweet are the days of youth, and sweet the hours
Of rural mirth, and innocence, and ease,
When hope leads fancy to her sylvan bowers,
Where naught but fragrant perfumes fan the breeze;
And Time has not impregnated disease

"

Into the pores where care with age soon creeps-
And young desire with Iris-plumage flies,

As the brisk bee from flower to flower, and steeps
His lips, all honeyed o'er; then on as blithely leaps.

Such were the hours that Mariaquita knew;
And love had lately brushed her with his wing,
And whisper'd in her ear a tale more true
Than he attunes, oft, in his wandering;

And had infused his sweets without his sting,
Stealing upon her heart as summer's air,
Which stirs a bed of roses blossoming;

Pure as the orison of childhood's prayer;
Fond as the mother's breast who clasps her infant care.

And, Oh! the blushing half-averted cheek,
When Felix met that lustre-gemed dark eye,

Timidly tender. Then would its glance speak
Those thoughts of teeming sensibility,

Which o'er the aspect of the features fly

More strong than all that language could express ;→

Nor did the heart of Felix marvel, "why?"

At those soft tell-tales of her tenderness,

He too had questioned love, whose soft reply was "yes.”

press.

* Among the many sorrowful tales, which the history of the Spanish war (when the country was invaded by Buonaparte) could furnish, I have selected the present. Every circumstance is as it too frequently happened. It was told me by a Spanish Hidalgo, at a small town, called Naval Moral, a short distance from the Bridge of Almaraz. To those who are unacquainted with the brutalities, which the army of France committed during the war in Spain, I would recommend the perusal of "Felix Alvarez," which spirited and pleasing account has been much admired; and with whose accomplished author it was my good fortune to be during a great part of the campaign.-AUTH. Eur. Mag. Oct. 1823. 2Q

Oh! who can watch the eye where beauty shines,
Nor thrill in fondness 'neath its lovely gaze;
Nor wish to bend him at so fair a shrine,

Adore the vision bright where Heaven's light rays,
The cheek's pale rose-dyed sheen, the smile which plays
Sweetly impressive o'er the features' cast,

As the soft tender glow of autumn's days,
Leaving a sweeter memory as it passed,

As flowers, whose essence breathed, have fragrance to the last.

And in the vale they dwelt in, all was mirth;

Oft had they heard of, but ne'er dream'd that war,
(Which had o'errun the fairest climes on earth,)
Would shortly turn its hot malignant star
Towards their peaceful homes, and drive its car
Scorching, like Phaeton, the abodes of men ;
Ah! then the drum would drown the soft guitar,
And anguish, death, and discord make a den
Of their now peaceful vale,-contentment's denizen.

Dark treason soon supplied what force could not;
Ambition's slave (whose curse had lately drown'd
Europe with blood and tears) with heinous plot

Now seized possession of Hesperia's ground:
Little he deemed that some would there be found
Patient in woe, and patriot-like in mind;
But that the portent of his name's dark sound
(Borne like the thunder-clap upon the wind)
Would awe their hearts to bend to slavery's yoke resign'd.

But soon was leagued full many a mountain-band-
What! though the foe had rush'd from East to West,
And let his eagles loose upon the land,

Devouring and destroying? some possessed

Of daring minds, and fired with freedom's zest,
Fled to their Sierra's fortresses and hold;
And, 'mongst the few, young Felix with the rest
Could not look tamely on, with spirit bold,,
To see oppression's chain around his country rolled,

The vale he loved, the friends so softly dear,

And that fair form in which his heart delighted.— Ah! luckless fate, how often dost thou sere

Our fairest hopes! how often hast thou blighted Youth's most devoted vision, too short-sighted; Gone, as a meteor or a summer's leaf;

Tearing asunder those whom love united :

Who could have seen thee, in a space so brief, Turning those smiles to tears! that merriment to grief!

Oh! he who fosters hope will often find

The smile he coins but glistens to deceive; And he, who pictures pleasure in his mind, Will often lack its joys; he who will weave Fair visions of the brain and can believe

The flitting colourings of his fancy's beam,

Will ever have a host of ills to grieve.

Joys are not lasting as their shadows seem,
And we oft stamp as fact what fancy did but dream.

And oh! that farewell, parting hour was come,
Tears, sighs, and all that sorrow doth respire,
Tokens of love were her's; even that home

She would have flown from; but alas! her sire-
Grown old, infirm with years as to require

All that a child's attention should bestow! Here filial love silenced at once desire,

Striving to soothe her tender heart of woe

With thoughts, that happier days would recompence the blow!

And two revolving moons had passed away,
Since Felix from his love and home had gone;
Tidings were brought of feuds, each coming day,
Yet they were doubtful or but little known;
At length the cloud of war came thickening on,
Darkening o'er Andalusia's verdant plain;
Already were Morena's summits won,

And the loose foe, whom nothing could restrain,
Bringing dismay, and death, and havock in his train.

Brief be my tale, where grief it's burthen is;
One morn the foe broke in upon the vale,
Making that peaceful spot a dark abyss
Of every horror that can well assail;
The shriek of death, the matron's, virgin's wail,
The riot of intemperance and hate;

A childless parent's or an orphan's tale

Soon had to grieve at the dark deeds of fate,

And curse the hardened fiends that could such scenes create.

But to my sequel,-how shall words describe

What Mariaquita and her sire befell?

Behold some ruffians of that lawless tribe

Broke in upon that bower where love did dwell,

And seizing her with a lascivious yell

Tore her (while clinging) from her parent's arms;

He, in his frenzy rushing to repel,

Was struck to earth, and life's last spirit warms

To curse the hands that now defiled his daughter's charms.

And passion sated, there it left her form,

Pale, fallen, and faded-all but life now fled;

Even as a rose-bud, blasted by the storm,
Struck by the whirlwind to its parent bed,

Where yesterday it rose its lovely head

Fragrant and fresh, and glittering in the dew ;Ah! whither hope? Ah! why deceit thus spread, That, like the Dead Sea's fruit art fair in hue But inwardly all dust and ashes to the view.

For oh! she never woke to reason more!

Sorrow and suffering had subdued her mind; That ray of nature's light was clouded o'er, And left a frame all tenantless behind;

Even as a ruined structure, where the wind

Murmurs with strange and confused sound; devoid Of sense thus thought flits loose and unconfined, "Till day on day left nature unsupplied ;

This could not last-she sleeps by her loved parent's side.

Muse! twine a cypress garland round thy lyre';
Maids! weep the fairest of thy sister-band;
She, who could once the smile of mirth inspire,
In grace, in look the loveliest of the land,
Nipt like a flower by fate's untimely hand!
And Felix came to find a desert-spot

Where every charm once glowed, as if the wand
Of some destructive power had chosen to blot

Its charms from nature's face, and seal its mournful lot?"

O'er that green sod, which marked the tenement
Where she, he loved, in sleep eternal lay-
An oath of vengeance 'gainst the foes he sent,
Who tore her in her loveliness away!
By secret stealth, or contest's open fray,
Revenge looks only to the end it swore;
And well did he their deed of blood repay;
He lived to hurl the foe to Hades' shore,

To see Gaul fly his land and peace her smiles restore.
Canto V. Stanza 6.

HIGH LIFE.