Thus spoke within my bosom's core The thought--as hitherward I strayed; And pensive 'mid the waving store, I mused, of autumn's yellow glade:-- These gifts of nature's bounteous reign,-- The teeming earth, and golden grain, Yon elms, among whose leaves entwine The tendrils of the clustering vine;-- Gay children of our sunny clime,-- Region of spring's eternal prime! Each charm should woo to love and joy, No cares the dream of bliss annoy, And pleasure through life's summer day Speed every laughing hour away. We rage in blood,--oh, dire disgrace! For this usurping, alien race; From some far distant land they came, Beyond the sun's departing flame. And owned upon our friendly shore The welcome of our sires of yore. Alas! their sons in thraldom pine, The vassals of this stranger line. A second (MANFRED). Yes! pleased, on our land, from his azure way, The sun ever smiles with unclouded ray. But never, fair isle, shall thy sons repose 'Mid the sweets which the faithless waves enclose. On their bosom they wafted the corsair bold, With his dreaded barks to our coast of old. For thee was thy dower of beauty vain, 'Twas the treasure that lured the spoiler's train. Oh, ne'er from these smiling vales shall rise A sword for our vanquished liberties; 'Tis not where the laughing Ceres reigns, And the jocund lord of the flowery plains:-- Where the iron lies hid in the mountain cave, Is the cradle of empire--the home of the brave! [The folding-doors at the back of the stage are thrown open. DONNA ISABELLA appears between her sons, DON MANUEL and DON CAESAR. Both Choruses (CAJETAN). Lift high the notes of praise! Behold! where lies the awakening sun, She comes, and from her queenly brow Shoots glad, inspiring rays. Mistress, we bend to thee! First Chorus. Fair is the moon amid the starry choir That twinkle o'er the sky, Shining in silvery, mild tranquillity;-- The mother with her sons more fair! See! blooming at her side, She leads the royal, youthful pair; With gentle grace, and soft, maternal pride, Attempering sweet their manly fire. Second Chorus (BERENGAR). From this fair stem a beauteous tree With ever-springing boughs shall smile, And with immortal verdure shade our isle; Mother of heroes, joy to thee! Triumphant as the sun thy kingly race Shall spread from clime to clime, And give a deathless name to rolling time!