Juan Bautista Arriaza,
Modern Poets and Poetry of Spain
“ O, sweet illusion! who has had the powerTo save himself from thee, who was not bornThan the cold marble, or the rough trunk lower?With ardour I embrace, and wait thee lorn.Yet of my Muse perchance some happier strainsWill me survive, and my sepulchral stoneWill not be left to tell of me alone!Perhaps my name, which rancour now detainsProscribed, will yet resound o’er Cuba’s plains,On the swift trumpet of enduring fame!Correggio, when he saw his canvas flameWith life, “a painter,” it was his to cry,“I also am!”—A poet too am I. ODE TO NIGHT.Night reigns ”

