Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Spain, Portugal, Belgium, and Holland: Vols. XIV–XV. 1876–79.
The Bridge of the Bidasoa
By Johann Ludwig Uhland (17871862)O
Rolls his waters to the main,
There stands a sainted image
Looking forth on France and Spain.
Descend on that sweet shore,
Once crossed by many a soldier
Who saw his home no more.
By night strange music plays,
There swarthy shades are mingled
With golden, lustrous rays;
One side is bright with roses,
The other dark with sand,
As each the chance discloses
Of death or Fatherland!
Glide on with gentle swell,
And, rising o’er their music,
Is heard the shepherd’s bell.
Far other sounds once echoed
Along that river fair,
When a broken host at twilight
Furled their torn banners there.
Wounded, sore, and bleeding—
Of hope, of pride bereft—
On the bridge they leaned their rifles,
And counted who were left.
With tearful, earnest eyes,
Until an ancient warrior
To his drooping soldiers cries:
“Roll up the tattered banner,
Once the ensign of the brave,—
No more shall conquest fan her
By the Bidasoa’s wave.
In some country far away,
Where our ancient star of glory
Shall shine with cloudless ray.
O thou, in freedom’s battle,
Who many a toil hast borne,
Spirit of sainted Minna!
Show the path of our return.
Left to Spain and freedom yet—
On, then! o’er the river
Her star of glory hath not set!
From the old, time-worn marble,
Where he long had lain so still,
Minna rises sternly glancing
On the lighted western hill!”
His hand, he opens wide
His wounds, and soon his life-blood
Purples the gushing tide.