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SPANISH ROMANCES.

No. V. The graver poets of Spain have re- but excited religious feeling. In proved the gay and joyous character Andalusia, when death has entered which the Spaniards are wont to give the villages, the Rosario del Aurora to their devotions ; but if such devo- visits the nearest relative of the dead tions are not solemn, they are at least before the break of day, and conducts sincere—which is, perhaps, the rarer him to the tomb of the departed, and the better virtue. A romantic and where he kneels down, encircled by poetical spirit pervades almost all the his friends, who pour forth their religious acts of the people. He must plaints and their prayers. They who be made of stern and sorry stuff who have never witnessed scenes like has seen the parade, and heard the these may fancy them in all their songs, of the Rosario del Aurora with« vivid and imposing imagery—twiout sympathy. This interesting pro- light--and tears and hymns--and the cession takes place late on Saturday grave. No delirium of joy-no bitnight, and lasts till the dawning of terness of sorrow, ever left a deeper the Sabbath sun. Devout and pious impress than this funeral picture has emotions, blended with a sober mea- stamped on him who has once been sured gaiety, find utterance in a pe- present. culiar hymn which is remarkable for Thus are the religious feelings its sweetness and its melancholy; blended with the daily pursuits of and the hours which are commonly life—and those pursuits become elegiven to repose are here consecrated vated and sanctified by devout assoto the pathetic effusions of natural ciations.

Que producirá mi Dios,

“ Si, mas de el se han de coger tierra que regais asi ?

" guirnaldas muy diferentes.” “ Las espinas para mi,

Cuyas han de ser, mi Dios, y las flores para vos."

esas guirnaldas, deci ? Regarda con tales fuentes

“ Las de espinas para mi, jardin se habrá de hacer !

las de flores para vos."-Böhl, No. 47. WHAT SHALL THE LAND PRODUCE. What shall the land produce, that thou Art watering, God! so carefully? « Thorns to bind around my brow, “ Flowers to form a wreath for thee.” Streams from such a hand that flow Soon shall form a garden fair ! “ Yes! but different wreaths shall grow “ From the plants I water there." Tell me who, my God! shall wear, Wear the garlands round their brow? “ I the wreath of thorns shall bear,

“ And the flowery garland thou.” Whatever delusions, whatever er- lady of the rosary—and our lady of rors, superstition may have intere sorrow, have their special virtues, and woven with popular belief in Spain, their particular votaries. Sometimes --there is much that is affecting and the Virgin appears a sublime and imdramatic in its external observances. posing epic heroine-and at others a The mother of God is more various tender friend, weeping with those in her forms than the Hindoo Vishnu. who weep-and mingling sympathies Her personifications are infinite with every species of woe. What and in each she has a peculiar iden- Spanish maid ever felt the first intity. The Virgin of Mount Carmen fluences of love without singing the —and the Virgin of Montserrat, are well-known coupletdistinct and separate characters. Our

La virgen de las angustias the bitter pangs—the virgin of death: es la que sabe mi mal;

while to every designation innume meto en su capilla

merable poetical compositions, or roy no me harto de llorar.

mances, are attached. Sometimes a Virgin of grief ! she knows my woe; high tone of reverence and devotion Then to her sacred shrine I'll go, is assumed-at others all the familiaRecount to her my sorrows o'er,

rity of fond and tender affection. And weep till I can weep no more.

Now all the chivalric ardour of ferBut Mary, when giving birth to vent and vehement love-and now the infant Jesus, is of all objects the the trembling and hesitating expresmost beloved. She is represented in sion of fear and awe. a thousand forms, and with a thou- These lines were written in the sand titles: the virgin of pain—the 15th century, by Pero Lopez de virgin of agony-the virgin of dejec- Ayala, while in prison in England. tion—the virgin of life—the virgin of

Señota, Estrella luciente
que á todo el mundo guia
guia á este tu sirviente
que su alma en ti fia.

A canela bien oliente
eres, Señora, comparada,
de la mina de oriente
has loor mui señalada,
á te fas clamor la gente
en sus cuitas todavia
quien por pecador se siente
llama á Santa Maria.

Al cedro en la altura
te comparó Salomon

la eglesia tu fermosura
al cipres del monte Sion :
palma fresca en verdura
fermosa y de grant valia
y oliva la escritura
te llama, Señora mia.

De la mar eres estrella
del cielo puerta lumbrosa
despues del parto doncella
de Dios madro, fija, sposa.
tu amansaste la querella
que por Eva nos venia
y el mal que fizo ella
por ti hobo mejoria.

LADY! STAR. OF BRIGHTEST ŘÁY.

Lady! star of brightest ray,
Which this world of darkness guides,
Light thy pilgrim on his way,
For his soul in thee confides !

Thou art like the fragrant bough
Of the beauteous cassia-tree-
Like the Orient myrrh art thou,
Whose sweet breath is worthy thee.
Lady! when the sufferer mourns,
"Tis to thee he bends his eye:
'Tis to thee the sinner turns,
Virgin of the cloudless sky!

Thee has wisdom's son compar'd
To the towering cedar trees;
And thy church—which thou dost guard,
To Mount Sion's cypresses.
Thou art like the palm-trees green,
Which their richest fruits have given,
Thou the olive-radiant queen !
Blooming in the book of heaven.

Brightest planet of the sea,
Dazzling gate in heaven's abode-
Virgin in the agony,
Mother, daughter, spouse of God.
Though the curse that Eve had brought
O'er her children threat’ning stood,
All the evil that she wrought,
Lady! thou hast turn'd to good.

In the Romerias-or religious fess of thousands with joyous devotiontivals, compositions are often sung, they are the intellectual spirit of the alike remarkable for their simplicity pageant—the living principle that and their tenderness. They are di- endures when the flowers are faded, vested of their magic power when the music is hushed, and the altar they are thus presented in their sunk in the dust. nakedness; but they fill the hearts

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Onward, fair maiden-
Wife, virgin dear!
The cocks are now cro

crowing,
The village is near.
Onward, fair maiden-
Best of the best ;
Soon our tired footsteps
In Bethlem shall rest-
Then shalt thou rest thee
Peacefully there:
The cocks are now crowing,
The village is near.
I see thou art weary-
Fair lady! my heart
With fear is tormented,
So weary thou art-
The guest-house awaits thee,
And rest will be there:
The cocks are now crowing,
The village is near.
O lady! in Bethlem
A dwelling's prepared,
Where thou shalt repose thee,
And peace be thy guard.
We have friends, we have neighbours
To welcome us there :
The cocks are now crowing,
The village is near.
O lady! Heaven watch thee
In nature's distress,
I would give for thy safety
Even all I possess-

This ass, kind and faithful,
With pleasure confer:
The cocks are now crowing,
The village is near.

Thus again, that most energetic and condensed description of the crucis fixion, by Maria Doceo. Piedra levantada

la flor al morir vida amenazada

el sol sin salir : injurias oidas

¿quien tal sufre-quien ?
penas repetidas

quien quiere bien.
el amor ausente
el dolor presente

Suspiros cansados

clamores negados ¿ quien tal sufre-quien ?

lagrimas vertidas quien quiere bien.

glorias escondidas Luces apagadas

ausencia punzante cayendo pedradas

sin ver al amante : los ayres armados

¿ quien tal sufrem quien ? cabellos volados

quien quiere bien. el llanto en los ojos

Estrella embozada los pies entre abrojos

la suerte encontrada ¿ quien tal sufre-quien ?

caminar penoso quien quiere bien.

temple riguroso El camino estrecho

el puerto perdido oprimido el pecho

de todos herido: triste el corazon

¿quien tal sufre-quien ? del mundo irrision

quien quiere bien.

THE STONES THEY RAISE.

The stones they raise,
Life's hope decays-
With insults greeted
And woes repeated-
Affection gone,
Woe stands alone;
Who suffers this? O tell!
'Tis he who loves so well.
Lights darken'd all,
The stone-showers fall,
The wild winds blowing,
His long hair flowing,
His eyes are wet,
Thorns wound his feet.
Who suffers this? O tell !
'Tis he who loves so well.
Perplex'd the road,
His breast a load;
His heart is torn :
The world in scorn-
The flowers are faded,
The sun is shaded.
Who suffers this? O tell !
'Tis he who loves so well.
What weary sighs,
And weeping eyes,
And plaints forbid,
And glories hid,
And absence drear,
From friends sincere.
Who suffers this? O tell !
Tis he who loves so well.

A clouded star,
A journey far,
A fearful doom,
A day of gloom;
The path mistaken-
By all forsaken.
Who suffers this? O tell!
'Tis he who loves so well.

But in the midst of the supersti- bald head (calva) of St. Peter, for extions that deform and degrade the ample, is bared to numberless epipublic profession of religion in Spain grams and jokes. Reverence itself -superstition itself, and especially becomes tainted by familiarity—and the faults and follies of its representa- religion, being but a garment with tives, the monks and friars, are often splendid trappings, is thrown off the subjects of pungent satire, and bit- when the pageant is over. We have ter animadversion. Of the influence heard the saints abused in language of the Spanish drama, in counteracting the most vehement and ungoverned, the gross absurdites of ultra Catho- when they have appeared unpropilicism, we may have occasion to tious to their votary-We have seen speak hereafter. In the comedies of St. Anthony dashed into the Tagus, the Principe tonto (the crazy Prince), when, after repeated prayers, he has -el Diablo Predicador (the Devil refused to bring the wind from the turned Preacher),-the abuses of the quarter friendly to the boatman's regular clergy are treated with the course. sharpest ridicule-nor does ridicule The Romanceros have versified a stop here, for there are a hundred great variety of subjects from Holy couplets, which pass from tongue to Writ. A single specimen may suftongue, in which doubt and scepti- fice, which is to be found in all the cism find vent; and among others, the old collections. Con rabia está el Rey David

enemigas de razon rasgando su corazou

o Jonatas que hiziste sabiendo que alli en la lid

no lo merecia no le mataron Absalon

miraras que era hijo cubriose la su cabeza

engendrado en bendicion y subiose a un mirador

que quien le dava la muerte con lagrimas de sus ojos

me doblava la passion sus canas regadas son

si era desobediente hablando de la su boca

yo te otorgara perdon dice esta lamentacion

si mi mandado cumplieras o fili mi fili mi

truxeras me lo a prision o fili mi Absalon

o madre que tal pariste que es de la tu hermosura

como auras consolacion tu estremada perfeccion

rompanse las tus entrañas los tus cabellos dorados

rasgue se el corazon parecian rayos del sol

lloremos le padre y madre tus ojos lindos azules

el fruto de bendicion: que jacinta de Sion

o fili mi fili mi o manos que tal hizieron

o fili mi Absalon.

DAVID THE KING IS MAD WITH GRIEF.

David the king is mad with grief,
His heart is harrow'd with pain ;
His son is slain in the battle-fight,
His Absalom is slain.
He covers his head with his mantle wide,
And mounts his highest tower-
While tears that flow from his eyes of woe
Wash his grey tresses o'er-
And his trembling lips these words repeat
This lamentation sore :
O fili mi, fili mi,
Fili mi, Absalom-

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