Thou wilt behold the past and with delight Find present pleasure in past wretchedness. As one who journeying on his toilsome way With heaviness and sore fatigue opprest, Remembers this upon the future day And recollecting toil, more values rest. CHIMALPOCA. A Monodrama-founded on an event in the Mexican History. SCENE-The Temple of Mexitli. Subjects! friends! children! I may call you Towards you; it is thirteen years since first Since here the multitudes of Mexico children Hail'd me their King. I thank you friends that now In equal numbers and with equal love You come to grace my death. For thirteen years What I have been, ye know: that with all care, Seeking your weal I govern'd. Is there one Let him come forth, that so no evil tongue Speak shame of me hereafter. O my people, The wrath is heavy on me! Of me, of heaven, he seized, and spurned her back. Behind his armies and his multitudes It shall blot out the marks of infamy, Not of the God Unworthy, do I seek his altar thus, Cease your lament ! And if your ill-doom'd King deserved your love, "And join'd the Spirits of the heroes dead." Suffer thro' endless ages! he shall join The Spirits of the brave, with them at morn Shall issue from the eastern gate of Heaven, And follow thro' his fields of light the Sun; Down to the western palace of his rest The Prince of Glory, and with equal eye Endure his centered radiance. Not of you But often in the amber cloud of noon Diffused, will I o'erspread your summer fields, And on the freshened maize and brightening meads Shower plenty. Spirits of my valiant Sires, I come! Mexitli, never at thy shrine Flow'd braver blood! never a nobler heart Steam'd up its life to thee! Priests of the God, S |