XXIX.

“Here sit, my children,” grave Salustian said, “While Spain’s disasters from their primal source I briefly trace, and ’midst these horrors dread Relief pursue by patriot discourse; For at each shriek my voice doth lose its force, And highest deeds recounting may sustain The fainting spirit. Ah! my throat is hoarse, And parched my lips with heat--to speak yet fain-- Would I had never lived to see this day for Spain!