Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Spain, Portugal, Belgium, and Holland: Vols. XIV–XV. 1876–79. | | | | Spain: Madrid | | Calderon’s Tomb | | José Zorrilla (1817–1893) |
| | Translated by S. Eliot
THERE is a chapel old, | |
| Broken with years and poor, | |
| Forgotten and obscure, | |
| Buried in dust and mould, | |
| Where we read upon a stone, | 5 |
| More with hands than eyes, | |
| “Here the body lies | |
| Of Pedro Calderon.” | |
| |
| Bird whose feathers glow | |
| With hundred changing colors, | 10 |
| Blushing bright as flowers, | |
| Or pale as fleecy snow,— | |
| From the sun those eyes | |
| Borrowed light and fire, | |
| Spanish breaths inspire | 15 |
| Those swift wings to rise. | |
| |
| This wide earth was thy home, | |
| Fortune to thee was mild, | |
| Yet thy soul flashed out wild, | |
| And now the earth’s thy tomb; | 20 |
| Thou, eagle-like, to soar, | |
| King of the wind wast born,— | |
| A phœnix of the morn, | |
| Singing forevermore. * * * * * | |
| But bound by mortal chains, | 25 |
| Thy gushing throat is dry, | |
| And in thy hollow eye | |
| No beaming sight remains. | |
| Sleep on beneath this stone, | |
| Made sacred to thy glory | 30 |
| By one low cross, in memory | |
| Of Pedro Calderon. | |
| |
| Not in so vile a place | |
| Hadst thou, a prince, been laid, | |
| Then had thy grave been made | 35 |
| Before the altar’s face. | |
| Yet sleep here tranquilly, | |
| Here in this corner dark,— | |
| Let it the world’s shame mark, | |
| Thy name ’s enough for thee. * * * * * | 40 |
| Ill-summoned shade, forgive | |
| The voice which breaks thy slumbers, | |
| These rude yet earnest numbers | |
| Are all my heart can give | |
| To thy great crown of wonders. | 45 |
| |
| Thy own bold inspiration | |
| Lives in eternal history,— | |
| Rest, then, beneath the stone | |
| Made sacred to thy glory | |
| By one poor cross,—sad memory | 50 |
| Of Pedro Calderon. | | | | |
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