Sudden arose the land in all its might;
Sudden its chains like spider-threads were riven.
Too long its slumber—too profound the night;
And when the Nation woke, ’twas in a glare of light!
VIII.
“Oh, Madrileños, generous, dauntless hearts,
Who fell upon that glorious May-lit morn,
Vain is the tear that from the eye-lid starts
At thought of death-wounds all heroic borne,
For Freedom’s blazon doth your biers adorn!