LANCE’S ADIEU TO LIMA.
The following lines, with the notes annexed, were written under circumstances of great bodily and mental suffering in the year 1833, when the learned and very accomplished gentleman who penned them proposed to return to his native country. They were inscribed by him to his friends, among whom it has long been the author’s happiness to have occupied a favoured place. The notes are not only illustrative of the “Adieu to Lima,” but also of several incidental remarks contained in the preceding pages—especially of the interesting ruins of Pachacamac alluded to in vol. i. page 144.
I.
Welcome, thou heaving dark blue Sea!
Thy luckless child am I;
Thine island-child was nurs’d by thee
Beneath the northern sky;
II.
In that proud land—baptiz’d of old
To freedom in thy waves—
Confirm’d in glory—steel-ribb’d hold
Of men who’ll ne’er be slaves.
III.
On southern shores I’ve linger’d long,
My life is waning fast;
And Sorrow, with her forked tongue,
Has struck me down at last.
IV.
I’ll fling me on my mother’s breast,
The sweeping dark blue Sea:
O bear me to my island-nest,
To die among the free!
V.
Land of the Incas, fare thee well!
Thy valé soon is told:
I would no longer in thee dwell
For Huascar’s chain of gold![67]
VI.
Thy sceptre erst was sway’d by kings,—
They could not hold it firm;—
But now thy children crouch to things
More worthless than the worm.
VII.
Away! I will not stop to mourn
Thy sorrows or thy shame;
Nor tell what anguish I have borne
Since to thy shores I came.
VIII.
Let Indian pipe, so meek and low,[68]
Bemoan thine Incas’ fall;
And Indian maid, with garb of woe,[69]
Her country’s wrongs recall:
IX.
And, sadder still, the cuculi[70]
Complain in ev’ry vale,
When ev’ning with her dewy eye
Brings round the hour of wail.
X.
I’ll fling me on my mother’s breast,
The sweeping dark blue Sea:
O bear me to my island-nest,
To die among the free!
XI.
Like silver bells, yon snowy peaks[71]
Are hung upon the clouds!
’Tis sweet to see when morning breaks,
And strips them of their shrouds.
XII.
’Tis sweet to see ’midst orange rows
The spires of Lima wind;
But sweeter far than these or those,
To leave them all behind!
XIII.
Then wherefore does my bosom heave?
Why starts th’ unbidden tear?
Some scenes there are ’tis hard to leave,
Some friends my soul holds dear!
XIV.
Thou good-man’s eyrie, on the rock![72]
From thee I’m loth to part!
With names belov’d in mem’ry’s book
Sure thou recorded art!
XV.
There, with my friend, full many an hour
Of cank’ring care I’d cheat;
Or range the ample corridor,
The balmy breeze to greet!
XVI.
Or gaze on Pachacamac’s height,[73]
As peal’d the evening gun;
And see its mystic form dilate
Against the setting sun!
XVII.
And thou, dear Garden, ’neath thy bowers[74]
How swift the moments flew!
They pass’d the sweetness of thy flowers,
Though steep’d in evening dew!
XVIII.
Like stars that seek each other’s light,[75]
To form, as poets sing,
A path for gods, and o’er the night
Their mingled radiance fling:
XIX.
E’en so we cluster’d there, with souls
That friendship made but one:—
But hark! my knell of parting tolls,—
Sweet friends, I must be gone.
XX.
I’ll fling me on my mother’s breast,
The sweeping dark blue sea:
O bear me to my island-nest,
To die among the free!