Poem by William Harrison Ainsworth

The Legend of Valdez

		     I.

’Tis night! – Forth Valdez, in disguise,
		     Hies;
And his visage, as he glides,
		     Hides.
Goes he to yon church to pray?
		     Eh!
No! that fane a secret path
		     Hath,
Leading to a neighbouring pile’s
		     Aisles!
Where nuns lurk – by priests cajoled
		     Old.
Thither doth Don Valdez go –
		     Oh!
Thither vestals lips to taste
		     Haste.

		     II.

‘Neath yon arch, why doth he stand?
		     And
Haps it that he lingers now
		     How?
Suddenly cowl’d priests appear
		     Here.
Voices chant a dirge-like dim
		     Hymn:
Mutes a sable coffin drear
		     Rear;
Where a monument doth lie
		     High.
‘Scutcheons proud Death’s dart parade
		     Aid.
Valdez sees, with fresh alarms,
		     Arms,
Which his own – (gules cross and star!)
		     Are.

		     III.

An hour – and yet he hath not gone
		     On!
Neither can he strength to speak
		     Eke.
“Hark!” he cries, in fear and doubt,
		     Out,
“Whom inter ye in that tomb?
		     Whom?” –
“Valdez! – He’ll be, ere twelve hours,
		     Ours! –
Wait we for his funeral
		     All!”

		     IV.

“Monk ! thou bring’st, if this be truth,
		     Ruth!”
Valdez his own fate with dread
		     Read.
Question none he uttered more; –
		     O’er
’Twas; and he doth peacefully
		     Lie
In the tomb he saw, thus crazed,
		     Raised.

                         L’ Envoy
    MEMENTO MORI. Life’s a stale
                         Tale.

1. The Game of High Toby
2. One Foot in the Stirrup, or Turpin's First Fling
3. The Modern Greek
4. Jerry Juniper’s Chant
5. Hymn to Saint Thecla

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