(CATALONIAN AIR.)
Peace to the slumberers!
They lie on the battle-plain.
With no shroud to cover them;
The dew and the summer rain
Are all that weep over them.
Peace to the slumberers!
Vain was their bravery!—
The fallen oak lies where it lay,
Across the wintry river;
But brave hearts, once swept away,
Are gone, alas! forever.
Vain was their bravery!
Woe to the conqueror!
Our limbs shall lie as cold as theirs
Of whom his sword bereft us.
Ere we forget the deep arrears
Of vengeance they have left us!
Woe to the conqueror!
WHEN THOU SHALT WANDER.
(SICILIAN AIR.)
When thou shalt wander by that sweet light
We used to gaze on so many an eve,
When love was new and hope was bright,
Ere I could doubt or thou deceive—
Oh, then, remembering how swift went by
Those hours of transport, even thou may'st sigh.
Yes, proud one! even thy heart may own
That love like ours was far too sweet
To be, like summer garments thrown
Aside, when past the summer's heat;
And wish in vain to know again
Such days, such nights, as blest thee then.