Thrilled by the truest prophecy of love,
Beseeches thee, implores thee, to retract
Thy wayward steps, and thou thou hearest not,—
Thy error's slight offence becomes—a crime!
Tut, tut, my child! I cannot see, why now
My way is all at once so dangerous,
So criminal, as when I entered it.
The land we live in, its society.
Its kind relations to the neighboring states.
Are they not quite the same as formerly?
My father, they are not, for if they were
Thou wouldst not hear thy daughter's pleading voice.
When broke the Mexicans the Spanish yoke.
Ten years ago, then for some time indeed,
A free and lofty spirit thrilled the race.
Well worthy of our countrymen's support.
But ah! too soon the wakened flame died out.
Too soon they bowed to thraldom worse than erst,
Too soon they proved the axiom's truth, that people,
Unable to sustain by strength of arm and mind
Their freedom, merit not its blessed boons.
When priest-craft took the reins of government
Into its hands, when civil feuds arose.
And from their whirpools selfish autocrats
Sprung up as mushrooms will from rotten soil,