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BY 
 
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 fji5 '^*^ .i^lowing- Past with tales of Avoriclo kcin-^ 
 '.^\ LTiifolding- stores of weird, ftiiitastic dreams. 
 And truth and fiction strano-elv meet and blend 
 In charmins" ^^'a^'s \kc '>c:\rcc ran roinprcbend : 
 \ ct hiunaii iicaris, rcbibUiiL; space and time. 
 I>eat still the same in ever^' age and clime. 
 
 
 
 > v^ 
 
 il 
 

 2^ 
 
 Knteredaccording to Act of ConpTPRs. ;^^^ 
 
 >i In the year 1876, bv A. A. Fomu "> the office of the <^:>- 
 v\ /I ^ Librarian of Conprress, ai Washington . ^y 
 
ONGS OF LASTILE. 
 
 BY 
 
 .^ , A . IF" ,o-t/(5(. 
 
 ^ 
 
 ►i* 
 
 ^ 
 
^- 
 
 -^ 
 
 DON MUNIO. 
 
 If beyond the blue Atlantic 
 
 You should ever chance to roam. 
 
 To the land of vine and olive, 
 
 Once the wanderinof minstrel's home. 
 
 In the San Domingo convent, 
 
 Built at Silos, in Castile, 
 You will find old mausoleums 
 Raised in times of holy zeal. 
 
 (5) 
 
 ^ 
 
 ■^ 
 
^ ^ 
 
 DON MUNIO. 
 III. 
 
 In these tombs, in peaceful slumber, 
 Rest the knig^hts and lords of old, 
 
 Of the house of Hinojosa, 
 Once so powerful and bold. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Buried here lies Munio Sancho, 
 Bravest of Castilian brave. 
 
 And a legend quaint and pleasing 
 Ling^ers still about his o^rave. 
 
 V. 
 
 For upon his tomb at Silos, 
 In the convent s^rim and old, 
 
 Carved in everlasting marble. 
 Is this simple story told: — 
 
 (6) 
 
 ■* 
 
ijl ^ 
 
 DON MUNIO. 
 VI. 
 
 Years ago when Spain was ravaged 
 By the fierce Barbaric hordes, 
 
 And its people held their castles 
 Only by their trusty swords ; 
 
 VII. 
 
 When the Moorish hosts came plundering, 
 
 Dev^astating all the land, 
 Lived the brave Don Munio Sancho, 
 
 Stanch and chivalric, and grand. 
 
 VIII 
 
 He had won, in fierce encounters, 
 
 Many a glorious victory, 
 Till at last his name was famous 
 
 Far across the Southern sea. 
 
 (7) 
 }^ ^ 
 
^ . ^ 
 
 DON MUNIO. 
 IX. 
 
 In his halls hung Moslem helmets, 
 Broken spears and banners torn, 
 
 Eloquent though mute mementos 
 Of his foes in battle shorn. 
 
 Yet though trained in sturdy warf[ire, 
 He excelled in genial sports — 
 
 Falconry, the chase, the tourney, 
 All the pleasures of the courts. 
 
 XL 
 
 Once while hunting in the forest. 
 
 With his lordly retinue, 
 Suddenly a band of riders 
 
 Burst upon his wondering view. 
 
 (8) 
 
 ►I^ 
 
 -* 
 
^^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 DON MUNIO, 
 
 XII. 
 
 Gracefully upon her palfrey, 
 
 Rode a Moorish maiden fair 
 Gayly robed in costliest raiment, 
 
 Brilliant jewels in her hair. 
 
 • XIII. 
 
 While a young knight, bold and handsome, 
 • Lingered fondly at her side, 
 And her drooping eyes and blushes, 
 Met his looks of love and pride. 
 
 s 
 
 XIV. 
 
 In their train were lords and ladies 
 Dressed in garments rich and rare, 
 
 Who with courtly grace paid homage 
 To the youthful, happy pair. 
 
 (9) 
 
 *■ 
 
^ ^ 
 
 BON MUNIO. 
 XV. 
 
 When these knights and ladies riding 
 Briskly in the gladdening morn 
 
 Met his gaze, Don Munio Sancho 
 Loudly blew his hunting-horn. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Qiiickly was the bugle answered, 
 
 And his meny comrades' eyes 
 Glistened brightly as they gathered 
 
 Round their unexpected prize. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 When they shouted to their leader, 
 At his bold and dreaded name, 
 
 All the Moorish ladies trembled, 
 Knowing well the warrior's fame. 
 
 (lo) 
 
 ^ — ■ . 4^ 
 
■^ 
 
 DON MUNIO. 
 XVIII. 
 
 Naught dismayed the knightly lover 
 
 Vaulted from his' Arab steed, 
 Humbly said to Munio Sancho, 
 
 '' I hav'e heard of many a deed 
 
 XIX. 
 
 " Which in time of war has tested 
 All 3'Our valor and your might, 
 
 Gladly do I show my fealty 
 To so chivalric a knight. 
 
 XX. 
 
 '' I have heard a generous nature 
 
 Warms your brave and manly heart, 
 
 And I would these noble fadies • 
 Free from insult might depart. 
 
 ^ ^ 
 
^1 ' ^ lj< 
 
 DOJV MUNIO. 
 XXI. 
 
 "Abadil, who kneels before you, 
 
 Is a grave alcalde's son, 
 Who would reach his nativ^e kingdom 
 
 Ere another day is done. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 " There to wed the sweet Allifra, 
 
 7 
 
 Trembling at her lover's side ; 
 Take our jewels, claim a ransom 
 But protect my lovely bride."" 
 
 XXIIT. 
 
 Munio Sanclio proudly answ^ered- 
 ^' In our dearly loved Castile, 
 
 Unprotected beaut}- ever • 
 
 Finds true champions, Abadil. 
 
 (12) 
 
 ^ ^ 
 
ijl ^ 
 
 DON MUNIO. 
 XXIV. 
 
 u 
 
 Rise young knight and keep your jewels, 
 Na-io^ht of ransom will I take, 
 If within my ancient castle 
 I your bridal feast may make. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 To his wife he sent a vassal, 
 
 To Maria Palacin, 
 That she might the party welcome. 
 
 When they entered his demesne. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 As they neared the lofty castle, 
 Banners bright on every side, 
 
 Qiiick unfurled with friendly greeting 
 To the young and happy bride. 
 
 (13) 
 
 ^1^ 
 
•^ 
 
 DON MUNIO. 
 XXVII. ' 
 
 While the wife of Munio Sancho, 
 Pleased the feast to celebrate, 
 
 With her ladies rich appareled 
 Met them at the castle g^ate. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Graciously her guests she welcomed. 
 And with daintiest viands spread 
 
 Ushered in the nuptial banquet, 
 And Allifra soon was wed. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Still for two short weeks they tarried, 
 And with knightl}' revels ga}', 
 
 Tournament and song of minstrel, 
 Sped the careless hours away. 
 
 (14) 
 ^ -^ 
 
^ »J- 
 
 BOjY munio. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Then with richest presents laden, 
 Did the Moorish guests depart, 
 
 Loth to go, and filled with wonder 
 At the Christian's noble heart. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Years went by, and then the war-cry 
 Sounded loud throughout the land ; 
 
 Once again the brave knights gathered 
 To obey their king's command. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 At the call Don Munio Sancho 
 
 Fondly kissed his gentle wife, 
 Girded on his mailed armor, 
 
 Eao^er for the comino^ strife. 
 
 >j< 4< 
 
^ 
 
 -^ 
 
 DON MUNIO. 
 XXXIII. 
 
 But his mild and timid lady, 
 Tearfullv besought her lord 
 
 To foreo:o his thouo^hts of battle 
 Lest he perish by the sword. 
 
 xxxiv. 
 
 Munio Sancho then made answer— 
 '' Tempt me not my loving wife, 
 
 Better I should die with honor. 
 Than to live a coward's life. 
 
 xxxv. 
 
 '^ Yet once more V\\ forth to battle. 
 With mv seventv warriors brave. 
 
 And when ended is the conflict, 
 We will hasten to the grave 
 
 (i6) 
 
 ^ 
 
^— ^ 
 
 DON MUNIO, 
 XXXVI. 
 
 " Of our gracious Lord and Saviour, 
 
 In the Temple far away ; 
 At the sepulchre we'll gather, 
 
 , ?? 
 
 And our grateful tribute pav. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Then equipped with sword and helmet. 
 All their patriot hearts aglow. 
 
 Eagerly the Spanish nobles 
 Rode to meet th' invading foe. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Brightly is the warm sun shining, 
 
 As in coats of dinted steel, 
 On the plain of Salmanara 
 
 Stand the bold knights of Castile. 
 
 (17) 
 ^ ^ ^ 
 
^ 
 
 -^ 
 
 DOX MUNIO. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Bravely chiiro-e the veteran heroes, 
 But the Moorish hosts ad\ance. 
 
 And the Christian line is shattered 
 Bv the Moslem's fatal lance. 
 
 XL. 
 
 Now the Spanish forces rally, 
 Munio Sancho o-ives command, 
 
 '* On brave cavaliers, well conquer, 
 Or well fall with sword in hand I 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Then the stout Castilian soldiers. 
 Hand to hand enojao^e the foe. 
 
 And with loud resounding war-cr\', 
 Fearless strike for weal or woe. 
 
 (i8) 
 
 ►54- 
 
)fj< ^ 
 
 DON MUNIO. 
 XLII. 
 
 See! a Moorish kni<fht has sino^lecl 
 
 Munio Sancho from the rest, 
 And his lance is fiercely aiming 
 
 At the noble Spaniard's breast. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Close they grapple, — wounded, bleeding, 
 Soon the Christian knight lies slain. 
 
 While the sun is shining brightly 
 On the Salmanara plain. 
 
 XLIV 
 
 And beneath, in peaceful valleys, 
 Heedless waves the ripening grain. 
 
 And the birds untouched bv sorrow 
 Carol forth their glad refrain. 
 
 (19) 
 ^ ^ — — ^ 
 
^ ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 DOX MUNIO. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 l^aisino^ then the well-worn helmet 
 From his victim's drooping head, 
 
 Back the ^Moslem starts with horror. 
 As he orazes on his dead. — 
 
 o ^ 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 Down his pale cheeks tears are falling. 
 
 Brave, unhappy Abadil, 
 As he looks- on Munio Sancho 
 
 Now beyond all mortal ill. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 While around him, dead and dying, 
 
 Seventv valiant warriors lay. 
 Who in ^lunio Sancho's castle 
 
 Blessed him on his wedding day. 
 
 (20) 
 ^ — ^ 
 
^ ^ 
 
 DON MUNIO. 
 XLVIir. 
 
 ''Luckless fate!'' he cried in anguish, 
 ''Gladly would I vanquished be 
 
 If to life I might restore thee, 
 Sweetest flower of Chivalry." 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 Meanwhile, in her castle lonely, 
 
 Munio Sancho's faithful wife, ' 
 
 Breathing paters, murmuring aves, 
 Yearns for tidings of the strife. 
 
 o 
 L. 
 
 Peerino^ throuo^h the o^atherino" twnlio^ht. 
 
 Suddenly she sees afar 
 Banners flvino", horsemen ridino- 
 
 Slowly homeward from the war. 
 
 (21) 
 
 ^ ^ 
 
-^ 
 
 DON MUNIO. 
 LI. 
 
 Quickl}' is the draw-briclge lowered, 
 And with mingled joy and pride 
 
 Forth she rides to greet her husband, 
 With her ladies at her side. 
 
 LII. 
 
 'Neath the bright Castilian pennons, 
 
 In the distance she can see 
 What she thinks are Moorish captives, - 
 
 Surest signs of victory. 
 
 LIII. 
 
 Nearer comes the stately pageant, 
 
 But her cheeks are blanched with fear, 
 
 At the sio^ht of Munio Sancho 
 Borne upon a sable bier. 
 
 122) 
 
 ijl ^ 
 
^ ^ 
 
 DON MUNIO. 
 LIV. 
 
 All her joy is changed to sorrow, 
 
 All her smiles are drowned in tears, 
 
 When she sees her slaughtered husband, 
 'Reft of all his cavaliers. 
 
 LV. 
 
 Round her stand the Moors in silence. 
 And they gaze with solemn mien, 
 
 As their leader kneels before them 
 To Maria Palacin. 
 
 LVI. 
 
 Weeping, he implores her pardon 
 
 For the evil he has wrought. 
 Cursing now the fatal moment 
 
 He with Munio Sancho fouo^ht. 
 
 (23) 
 
 ^ \ 4( 
 
I 
 
 ^ ^^ 
 
 nOJV MUNIO. 
 LVII. 
 
 But the stricken wife, unmindful 
 Of the sorrowing Moor's remorse, 
 
 Broken-hearted, bends in anguish 
 O'er Don Munio's pallid corse. 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 ''Holy ^Mother,-' cries she sadly, 
 "Send the ano-els from the skies 
 
 Let them lead me to my husband 
 Dwelling now in paradise." 
 
 ? 
 
 LIX. 
 
 While on Mahomet the Faithful, 
 Calleth Abadil, in need, 
 
 That great Allah may forgive him, 
 If the Prophet intercede. 
 
 (24) 
 
 ^ 
 
^ ^ 
 
 nOJV MUNIO. 
 LX. 
 
 Thus the prayers of ]Moor and Christian, 
 
 Rise unto their God above; 
 To the Moslem God of power, 
 
 To the Christian God of love. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 Then the mournful knight, with reverence, 
 Lays to rest the Spanish brave, 
 
 And a costly tomb he raises 
 Over Munio Sancho's grave. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 At the portal of the Temple, 
 
 In Jerusalem of .old, 
 Stood one day a Spanish chaplain 
 
 Gazino^ at the sunset orold. 
 
 (25) 
 
 4^ — — ^^ 
 
^ « 1^ 
 
 BOX MUXIO. 
 LXIII. 
 
 All at once a troop of horsemen 
 Led bv one he knew in Spain, 
 
 Led bv brave Don Munio Sancho, 
 Slow advanced across the plain. 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 Hastily the monks he summoned, 
 
 And the priests in solemn line 
 Welcomed in the wearv pil^irims 
 
 To the holy, Christian shrine. 
 
 LXV 
 
 Round the sepulchre, the warriors 
 Pale and silent, knelt in prayer, 
 
 And their sacred duties ended, 
 Quick they vanished into air! 
 
 C26) 
 ^ ^ 
 
^— = ^ 
 
 DON MUXIO. 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 Filled with dread, the chaplain noted 
 Well the moment of their flight, 
 
 And to Spain he sent for tidings 
 Of the bold Castilian knight. 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 There he learned that ?vIunio Sancho 
 
 Was that day in battle slain, 
 With his seventy orallant ^varriors, 
 
 On the Salmanara plain. 
 
 Lxyiii. 
 
 Thus the phantom knights, so faithful, 
 
 In the land of Palestine. 
 Kept the yow they gaye ^vhen parting 
 
 From ]slaria Palacin. 
 
 (27) 
 ^ ^ 
 
^ ^ 
 
 I>OX MZ'-VIO. 
 LXIX. 
 
 And the quaint and pleasing legend 
 Li-.zers stili about the grave 
 
 O: the good Don Munio Sancho, 
 Braves: of Castilian brave. 
 
 
 /Tv: - ^- L 
 
 '2S 
 
 *^ »?« 
 
>jl >J» 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The following verses are founded on a popular tradition 
 of the town of Covena, in Spain. This village is situated 
 near Madrid, and its only object of interest is the church 
 said to have been designed bj the famous architect, Juan 
 De Herrera, whose talent is further displayed in the archi- 
 tecture of the Escurial. 
 
 i 
 
 ^ 
 
^' 
 
 ^ 
 
 THE SPIRE AT COVEXA. 
 
 Covena's steeple rises higli in air, 
 
 And proudly from its summit still looks down. 
 Gracefid of form, with tracery ornate 
 
 Upon the quiet, ancient Spanish town. 
 
 II. 
 
 A master-hand designed tlie lofty spire; 
 
 His name the village gossips gladly tell, 
 ^Vnd for Herrera claim a well-earned fame. 
 
 Whose genius helped to raise the Escm-ial. 
 
 (.35) 
 
 ^ 
 
 -^ 
 
^ ^ 
 
 TUB SPIRE AT CO VENA. 
 
 III. 
 
 His very soul and heart were in his works, 
 Inspiring every grand, poetic thought. 
 
 And with the jo\' that only artists feel, 
 His love created and his fancy wrought. 
 
 IV. 
 
 And when the steeple moulded to his will. 
 
 At last took solid form against the sky. 
 He loved to mount the staircase of the tower 
 
 And gaze upon the scene that met his eye. 
 
 He saw the Tagus on its shallow course, 
 And nearer still, within its firm, brick wall 
 
 And massive gates of granite, coarse and gray. 
 He gazed upon the Spanish capitol. 
 
 (36) 
 
 4^ ^ 
 
^ 
 
 THE SPIRE AT CO VENA. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Its tile-roofed houses and its well-paved streets. 
 Its plazas with their foiiutaiiis sparkling bright. 
 
 Its royal palace and its chinxhes grand. 
 
 He viewed with pride upon the dizzy height. 
 
 VII. 
 
 And once, his son, a lad of sixteen vcars, 
 
 Not over bold, but blessed with temper sweet. 
 
 Left all his comrades at their boyish sports 
 To join his father in his loved retreat. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Herrera, pleased that Andres had at last 
 Evinced some interest in his noble art. 
 
 Stood on the topmost landing of the tower 
 
 And watched the lad below with thankful heart. 
 
 (37) 
 
 ^ ^ ■ ^ 
 
^ ■ ^ 
 
 THE SPIRE AT CO VENA. 
 
 IX. 
 
 In haste the youth ascends the spiral stairs. 
 
 Bnt soon his trembhng hmbs attest his fright ; 
 \\ ith brain unsteady and with whitened cheeks. 
 
 He dare not farther mount the winding flight. 
 
 X. 
 
 Impatiently Herrera waits aboye. 
 
 But Andres starts not from his resting-place. 
 Until his father loudly calls his name. 
 
 And sternly chides him for his pallid face. 
 
 XI. 
 
 •■ Come, foolish boy. hast thou a coward's heart .'^ 
 
 If not. look out upon the street below, 
 I see Juanita there, the pert coquette, 
 
 Flirting with Pedro, 'neath the portico. 
 
 (38) 
 
 4^ 4^ 
 
>^- 
 
 ^ 
 
 THE SPIRE AT COVENA. 
 
 XIT. 
 
 ''How small she looks, one scarce would think that she 
 Two years from now will be your little bride : 
 
 But listen, boy, she'll wed no craven youth, 
 And Pedro's heart is full of daring pride. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 '•'• He often mounts these stairs with nimble feet. 
 He knows by name the buildings all around : 
 
 I'll wager much, no braver lad than he 
 In all Covena's village can be found." 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Then Andres tried once more to look below, 
 But tried in vain, and soon in sorry plight, 
 
 Shamed bv his father's sneers and angrv taunts. 
 With heavy heart he fled from out his sight. 
 
 (39) 
 
 ^ ^ 
 
THE SPIRE AT CO VENA. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Next day, the priests and prelate of the place 
 With all Covena's worthies met in state, 
 
 And bade Herrera and his son attend, 
 
 While they the noble church did consecrate. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 And as they feasted in the banquet hall, 
 
 Herrera thought to stir young Andres' pride, 
 
 And told the guests the story of his fright. 
 Which raised a scornful laugh on every side. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 "• Nay, father," cried the boy with burning cheeks. 
 
 " I was not well, else had I banished fear. 
 To-morrow I will raise the cross and ball. 
 
 And crown the steeple, to your heart so dear !" 
 
 (40) 
 
 ^ 
 
ijl ^ 
 
 THE SPIRE AT CO VENA. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 *' To place the golden ball and cross aloft," 
 
 Herrera said, ''would give your courage fame : 
 
 You dare not do the deed ]" The boy replied : 
 "I'll yet prove worthy of my father's name. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 And while a murmur of applause went round, 
 The father sat with thoughtful face and sad. 
 
 For well he new" the peril of the act, 
 And trembled at the rashness of the lad. 
 
 ********* 
 
 XX. 
 
 Alone within his chamber, all night long. 
 Before the crucifix young Andres knelt. 
 
 And prayed the Lord to send him on the morn 
 Such courage as his heart Jiad never felt. 
 
 (40 
 
^ ' A 
 
 THE SPIRE AT COVEN A. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 And when the brio-ht but dreaded morninGT woke. 
 
 With fear subdued, but still with feelino^s o-rave. 
 He hastened to his father confessor. 
 
 Who heard his sins, and- absolution gave. 
 
 xxri. 
 
 With priestly blessing, and with lightened heart 
 He seeks Juanita at their trvsting-place ; 
 
 She greets him with a ringing, girlish laugh. 
 That brings a saddened smile to Andres' face. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 '' Oh ! take me Andres to the church," she cries. 
 
 "See. I am dressed in holiday attire. 
 They say a fearless lad will mount the tower, 
 
 And place the cross and ball upon the spire. 
 
 (42) 
 ^ ^ 
 
1^- 
 
 THE SPIRE AT CO VENA. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 '' I would mv Andres had as brave a heart; 
 
 I long to see if Pedro is the one." 
 Young Andres' jealous heart could brook no more : 
 
 Pie cried, '• the hero is Herrera's son !" 
 
 XXV. 
 
 With joy the thoughtless maiden clapped her hands. 
 
 And begged to witness Andres' daring deed ; 
 The lad with firmness bade her bide at home 
 
 And count her beads in this his time of need. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 They lingered by the bright pomegranate hedge, 
 One parting moment stood the lovers there ; 
 
 He plucked a scarlet flower from the shrub. 
 And twined it in Juanita's glossy hair. 
 
 (43) 
 
 ^ ^ 
 
^J# ^ 
 
 THE SPIRE AT CO VEX A. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Then with a brief farewell he hastej? awav. 
 
 And in the plaza joins the impatient throng^. 
 \Mio press with noisy tumult round tlie church. 
 
 Whiling the waiting-time with jest and song. 
 
 XXMir. 
 
 Qiiicklv the church is reached, and at its base 
 In glittering beaut\- rest the cross and ball : 
 
 Youncf Andres crazes on the scene around. 
 And scans with hast\' grlance the loftv wall. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 His father at the door, with tender words 
 
 Begs Andres even no\v the deed give o'er : 
 But roused at last, the lad with warmth exclaims. 
 • Juanita loves the brave. Til fear no more !" 
 
 (44) 
 ^ ^ 
 
^ ^ 
 
 THE SPIRE AT CO VEX A. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Tic swiftly mounts tlic long and spiral flight: 
 Hark I from the bcltVv comes a solemn sound 
 
 As Andres, rushing on his upward way. 
 
 In passing, moves the bell to tones profoimd. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Then through the pallid, superstitious crowd 
 
 riie murmur runs.'*Voung Andres tolls his knell !" 
 And mothers fall upon their knees in pra\er. 
 Awed bv the direful fate the sounds foretell. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Hut bra\e Ilerrera watches for his son. 
 
 And soon the eager crowd the vouth descrv. 
 As on the outer staging of the tower 
 
 He stands to raise the sfolden emblems high. 
 
 (45) 
 
 ^ 4^ 
 
ij^— ijl 
 
 THE SPIRE AT CO VENA. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 Thev wait with quick-drawn breath and strained e\ es. 
 
 *" • * 
 
 Their tono-ues are hushed and man\ a clieek is\N liitc : 
 No idle gossip now deHghts their ears 
 As all Covena views the thrilling sight. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 \'et two steps more, and then the goal is reached. 
 When lo, the father wild with anguish calls, 
 
 '' Great God ! m\- .Vndres trembles, he is lost I" — 
 While from the lofty spire l)ra\ e Andres falls. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Look not upon the after-scene of woe. 
 
 The frighted crowd, the parent's l)leeding heait. 
 
 Nor listen to the imprecations loud 
 
 He no\N' invokes upon his once lo\ed art. 
 
 ********* 
 
 U6) 
 
 4 
 
 * 
 
^ 
 
 THE SPIRE AT COVE^A. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Once more the daiiitv heather lends her cliarms. 
 And decks the fields around w Itli snow\' blooni. 
 
 And once again the rich pomegranate shrubs 
 Their o-or"'eous robe of scarlet flo\vers resume. 
 
 XXXVIT. 
 
 And while all nature seems so fresh and bri"-ht, 
 A feeble man is seen at twilight's hour. 
 
 Led by a comely maid w4th glossy hair 
 To mount the staircase of Covena's tower. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 He gazes on the scene with saddened eye. 
 
 That once had filled his heart with proud delight. 
 
 And then Juanita takes Herrera's hand. 
 
 And leads him homeward throuo-h the ^yaninoflio•ht. 
 
 't--' 
 
 (47) 
 
 »*<■ 
 
 4 
 
^ 
 
 -^ 
 
 THE SPIRE AT CO VENA. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Next morning when the glowing sun rose high, 
 Herrera called his neighbors to his side, 
 
 And murniured as his weary soul took flight, 
 
 ••''Tis just a twelvemonth since my Andres died." 
 
 XL. 
 
 And as thev laid him bv his faithful son, 
 Juanita placed within his hand a flower. 
 
 Withered and old. yet precious as the gift 
 That Andres gave her in their parting hour. 
 
 (48) 
 
 n^ 
 
 ^ 
 
C. W. CALKINS & CO., 
 
 Printers, 
 
 No. 286 Washington Street, Boston. 
 
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