Martinez de la Rosa published his works in a collected form first, in five volumes, 1827-30, at Paris, where they have been again lately reprinted. Besides these, there have been two editions in Spain, one at Madrid and the other at Barcelona. From Her Catholic Majesty he has received the decoration of the Golden Fleece, the highest order of Spain, besides other similar honours. But the world at large will consider his greatest honour to consist in having raised himself from mediocrity of station, by his talents and exertions, to the high position he has attained “without stain or reproach,” while, by his literary works, he has enabled all mankind to become benefited by his genius, and interested in his fame. FRANCISCO MARTINEZ DE LA ROSA. REMEMBRANCE OF SPAIN, WRITTEN IN LONDON IN 1811. I saw upon the shady Thames Unnumber’d ships with riches fraught; I saw the power the nation claims Immense, the greatness it has wrought, And arts that such renown have brought. But the afflicted mind exhaled A thousand sighs; again to view The flowery banks the wish prevail’d, Where glides the Douro calmly through, Or Henil’s streams their course pursue. I saw the proud Court’s ladies forth Their wealth and grandeur gaily show; I saw the beauties of the North, Their bright complexions white as snow, Commingling with the rose’s glow. Their eyes appear’d of heavenly blue, Their tresses of the purest gold; Their stately forms arose to view, Beneath the veil’s transparent fold, As white and lovely to behold. But what avail the gay brocade, The city’s silks, and jewels’ pride; Or charms in rosy smiles array’d, With brilliant gaiety supplied, That all to beauty are allied? When but is seen my country girl, Clad in her robe of simple white, Shamed are the needless silk and pearl; And by her pure and blooming light Confused hides beauty at the sight. Where shall I find in icy clime Her black and beaming eyes of fire? That whether scornfully the time, To look, or kindly they desire, To rob me of my peace conspire? Where the black hair that may like hers In hue with ebony compare? Where the light foot that never stirs, When bounding o’er the meadows fair, The lowly flowers that blossom there? Maids of the Henil! dark ye be; But ne’er would I exchanged resign Your charms for all that here I see, Proud Albion shows, of brows that fine Ev’n as the polish’d ivory shine. O, father Douro! gentle stream, Whose sands a golden store supply, Deign of my heart the wish supreme To hear, thy sacred margins by, That it may be my lot to die! RETURN TO GRANADA, OCTOBER 27, 1831.