“Joy to Valencia! Loud her praise be sung, Where first the stern Invader was repelled. In vain from Hell the assassin Calvo sprung, In vain her Chiefs in dire subjection held. Soon ’gainst his traitorous vengeance they rebelled. His strangled carcase on Domingo’s plain, His severed arm that many a victim felled, Inscribed with his foul deeds--relentless Cain-- Proclaim that murderous fiends no more dishonour Spain. XVII. “Joy to Valencia! From her leaguered wall, Full valiantly defended, Moncey flies. His shattered legions into fragments fall, So well her grape and musketry she plies; And torn his summons to surrender lies. This--this her answer:--‘We have sworn beneath ‘Our country’s ruins buried, ere shall rise, ‘A foreign standard here, to yield our breath,’ And France her flag withdrew all dark with hues of death. XVIII. “In Santandér Luarca’s mitred head-- Apostle pure--the patriot movement guides; Priest, peasant, noble gallantly he led, But, ah, Besaya’s torrent yields its sides; The Frenchman through the conquered city rides. Palencia bows her head--Valladolíd Gives hostages; her might the Gaul derides. And Torquemada many a peasant-Cid Sees ’neath French sabres fall her flaming towers amid. XIX. “Oh, ruthless grasp of the Invader’s hand! Yet not for this shall Spain his sceptre own. In vain _Te Deums_ swell through all the land, In vain allegiance forced sustains his throne. Though rebels fall, rebellion hath not flown! Intrusive, throneless, crownless, mocking King, No Monarch reigneth save o’er hearts alone! A Tyrant sent thee, poor and bodiless thing, But ne’er to rule in Spain--for flight prepare thy wing! XX. “Unconquered Zaragoza shuts her gates; No fortress her’s, and scarce a circling wall. Enough that from her soul the foe she hates, And ’neath her ruined towers hath sworn to fall, Or ere she live a foreign tyrant’s thrall. Sublime devotion! Palafox prepares The proud defence. His gallant soldiers all Obey his voice: ‘Who loves me with me shares ‘The city’s doom!’ Till death they guard their lion-lairs. XXI. “And many a rampart raised the citizens, Their puny wall with bristling men defending; And Tio Jorge and Marin from their dens Emerge their energies plebeian lending. On many a dire assault her efforts spending By Carmen and Portillo, still repelled, France hurls her shells the town terrific rending. The Moorish Cosso’s blown in air, and yelled Is many a dying shriek, but still the rampart’s held. XXII.