"T were doubt if that dark form could truly feel, To slumber in her vales that basking lie Or were indeed a shape and soul of steel. In the luxurious azure of her sky; On Saint or Virgin, such as Raphael dream'd, Speechless to gaze, and bow the adoring knee; The First was as a savage Horseman bold, In the soul's secret chambers to prolong Uncouth his rude attire, his bearing wild ; The rapturous ravishment of harp and song. As seeming war some merry sport to hold : Was dark and eloquent with ecstasy. Rapine her charge—of Florence' princely halls, And on the waves of his broad banner's fold And that fall'n Empress by old Tiber's side An old barbaric Capital he bore, Reft of the sole sad relics of her pride; Like some tall grove of pinnacle and spire, For the iron conqueror ravish'd from her walls Or snowy white, or gleaming rich with gold : Those shapes that in their breathing colours warm But the red havoc of upspringing fire In tall arcade or saintly chapel lived, A fatal flood of glory seem'd to pour; And all wherein the soul of Greece survived And still from gilded roof or dome upbroke The more than human of each marble form. In dusky pillars huge the cloudy smoke. Of the proud bridegroom of the Adrian Sea, Nor word that Horseman spake, but as he came Once like his bride magnificent and free, Waved his grim standard like a pall of flame. Sunk to a bond-slave's desperate apathy. And next came one all trim in fearful grace And him the Holiest deem'd, the chosen of God, And tall majestic symmetry of war, Beneath an earthly lord bow'd down to kiss the rod. Musquet and bayonet flashing bright and far; And next came one, the bravery of whose front Deliberate valour in his slow firm pace, Crested hereditary pride; his arms And scorn of death-him at the portal arch Were dark and dinted by rude battle's brunt: Saluted blithe old Frederick's bugle march. of Sovereign young he spake, by wizard charms Heavy his charge of lordly King bow'd down Of hollow smiling treachery from the throne In his own royal city to the frown Of two fair worlds to selon durance lured, of the base minion to a despot's hate_* A King in narrow prison walls immured; Then blanch'd the Soldier's bronzed and furrow'd And some rude islander's soul-groveling son cheek, Set up to be a princely nation's Lord :While of coarse taunting outrage he 'gan speak, But then the Spaniard with fierce brow and bright To her the beautiful, the delicate, Brandish'd the cloudy flaming of his sword; The queenly, but too gentle for a Queen Full was his soul of Zaragoza's fight, And the high Pyrenean snows o'erleap'd, hearted, The brother of his wrongs and of his wrath Was with him in the triumph of his path. The next like some old Baron's lordly son He of his exile Prince 'gan loudly boast; Bore what a rich imperial crown had been, To be a sceptred slave, a pageant King, Bat from its stars the pride of light was gone; He scorn'd, and on his fleet bark's gallant wing The joy of vengeance on that warrior's mien For kingly freedom the wild ocean crost. Was chasing the red hues of ancient shame : Whom saw I then in port and pride a Queen, Not of Marengo's fair-fought field he told, Come walking o'er her own obsequious sea ? Nor the wide waves of blood huge Danube rollid; I knew thee well, the valiant, rich, and freeBut him that in strong Ulm play'd that soul game, As when old Rome, her Roman virtue tame, Bartering his country and his soul for gold : Gazed, when in arms that bold Dictator came ; And that fair royal Maid, by battle won With the iron ransom of her Capitol Like thing that hath nor will nor sense, and borne Startled to flight the fierce insulting GaulA bright and beauteous trophy to adorn Camillus of mankind! thy regal mien The britile grandeur of an upstart's throne. Gladden'd all earth; the nations from their rest Next came a stately Lady, once was she Joyful upleap'd : with modest front elate, Queen of the Nations : of her despot sway Like one that hath proud conscience in her breast, Earth boasted, every flood and every sea Thou brakest the blank silence—“Woe and hate Water'd her tributary realms, and day To this bad man for those my good and great, Rose only on her empire: now it seem'd That sleep amid the Spaniard's mountains rude That she had cast her cumbrous crown away In the sad beauty of the hero's fate. To this bad man immortal gratitude, Alluding to a governor being set over the King of Prussia For he hath taught, who slaves the free of earth in Berlin. Feitereth the whirlwind: hath given glorious birth To deeds that dwarf my old majestic fame, Thrice did the indignant Nations league their mght, Make BLAKE and MARLBOROUGH languid sound Thrice the red darkness of the battle night and tame Folded the recreant terror of their flight. To Nelson and that Chief to whom defeat Realms sack'd and ravaged empires sooth'd my toils, Is like an undiscover'd star-hath shown And Satrap Chiefs were Monarchs from my spoils In solitude of freedom that rich Queen From cliff and beach. dominion in their motion, I saw her stately navies' broad array, That precious gem in ocean's azure robe, Like jealous lords at watch, that none but they Cast Freedom's banner down, by force or guile Adulterate with their fair majestic ocean. Master'd, and forteit earth's renown and love, And cries I heard like frenzy and dismay And her bright visions of high meed above." Of Nelson, NELson deepening on their way. Then all at once did from all earth arise But what to me though red the western deep Fierce imprecations on that man of sin ; With other fires than of the setting sun! And all the loaded winds came heavy in And what to me though round Trafalgar's steep With exultations and with agonies. My haughty pennon's galleys, one by one, From the lone coldness of the widow's bed, Come rolling their huge wrecks on the waves' sweep! The severish pillow of the orphan's head, Go rule thy brawling and tumultuous sea, From dying men earth's woful valleys heaping, Briton, but leave the servile earth to me. From smouldering cities in their ashes sleeping, And what to me though in my dungeons deep Like the hoarse tumbling of a torrent flood By this new Charlemagne dark deeds were done Mingled the dismal concord—“ blood for blood." Will the stones start and babble to the sun How that bold Briton Wright, and Pichegru sleep! At noon of night I heard the drum of death, Like evil spirits on the blasted heath The mournful beauty of her face for shame. By the drear torchlight iron men were met. And is this she whose sprightly laughing mirth The mockery of justice soon was past; Was like the blithe spring on the festal earth; Again the drum its dismal warning beat : Aye dancing at the moonlight close of day, Then flashing musquets deathful lustre cast 'Mid purple vineyards, graceful, light, and gay; A moment on the victim; he sedate Or in high pomp and gallant pride of port In calm disdain of even a felon's fate, Holding rich revel in her gorgeous court ? His royal breast bared to the soldier's mark, Abrupt her speech and wild—“When I 'gan wake Seeming to pity with his steady sight From that my sleep of madness, all around Those poor mechanic murderers-then 't was dark, Of human blood a broad and livid lake All but yon crown'd Assassin's visage bright, Who waved his torch in horrible delight O blood of Condé! could thy spirit rest In thy tame country's cold ungrateful breast ? Yet in my drunkenness of pride I mock'd Mean crimes that would a petty tyrant shame, 'Gainst the Blasphemer of fair Freedom's name, For still in glory's cradle was I rock'd, Heaven gave no hope, for heaven I dared disclaim. Mine eagle eyrie crown'd the steep of fame. Nought heeded I, that the proud Son of Spain, And that new British Arthur's virgin shield For lo, my cities throw their portals wide ; Gorgeous my festal streets, as when of old The bright and baleful Meteor I adored, The monarchs met upon the plain of goldLow bowd I down, and said — Be thou my Lord!" Lo, on my throne a bright and royal bride. Vain all my pomp, imperial beauty vain Like old and ruinous towers, the ancient thrones The reveller in battles to restrain. Crumbled, and dynasties of elder time; The banners of my conquest-plumed sons And at his word, as at the fabled wand Flouted the winds of many a distant clime: or old magician, from the teeming land, On necks of vanquish'd kings I fix'd my seat, Myriad on myriad, harness'd warriors rise; And the broad Rhine rollid vassal at my feet. The earth was darken’d with excess of light, Line after line, insufferably bright; Fear not that in his abject heart he show The black artillery, in their cloudy might, That martyr fortitude, that smiles in woe. France happy, and the glorious nations free; Then did that kingly conclave, with one voice, Pass the dread sentence on the gloomy man; And lo, the rival nations hurrying In his soul's icy deadness he alone Earth lifted up her rich face to rejoice, The bright blue heavens bade wintry warring cease, As with some mighty Empire's funeral pyre! And spring came dancing o'er a world at peace. Why bring they not proud Catherine's trophies home? I hear the sound of wheels—They come, they come.' A solitary sound—no pomp of war One dastard pale accomplice of his flight, ALEXANDER TUMULUM ACHILLIS INVIHe comes, whom earth, and all earth's sons obey, SENS, POEMA. CANCELLARII PRÆMIO DONATUM, ET IN THEATRO SHELDONIANO RECITATUM DIE JUN. Xxxmo. A.D. 1813 Was glory to his lone and hurrying car. J ask'd for those in fight, in triumph tried, Jam puer Emathius Thebarum nigra favilla The partners of his peril and his pride. Mônia, Cadmeamque arcem, jam Palladis urbem He, in a tyrant's mockery of my woe, Immemorem famæ, pronamque in jussa tyranni Bade me go seek them in the Scythian snow. Fregerat; at victas gentes partosque triumphos Spernit atrox animi, et pacem fastidit inertem. Europes angusta pati confinia nescit The satellite of one man's wayward spleen- Poscit in arma orbem; jam transilit Hellespontum, The remnant of my fair, my young, my brave, Purpureique Asiæ proceres atque agmina regum, Were rent once more to forge the adamant chain Sceptrigeri quotquot stipant Babylonia Medi Burst by the nations, who with one accord Atria, Grajugenûm horrescunt nota arma virorum, Shook the bright vengeance of the freeman's Myrmidonumque graves, fatalia tela, sarissas, sword Confertos clypeos, inconcussamque phalangen. Another year-and the broad Rhine again Shrouded the sceptred fugitive's pale train, At simul ac Phrygiæ campos, Priameia regna, Then turn'd a rebel, roll'd her free waves to the main. Conspicit, et Graiæ latè loca conscia famæ Gramineosqueducum tumulos, subit undique Achivum And now the banners of the embattled world Gloria et adversis bellantia numina in armis, Omne igitur lustrare juvat, quod mente dolores Iliacos renovet, Danaumque resuscitet iras. I wont to see, as from some quiet star, Spumeus hic Xanthus nemoroså pronus ab Ida, Deluging slaughter this sair earth o'erwhelm, Non galeas, non scuta virûm, sed proruta saxa On the rich bosom of my sunny realm Arboreosque rapit violento flumine truncos. Gave quarry to the ravening dogs of war. Hic, ubi luxuriat flaventi campus aristâ, Laomedonteum fuit Ilion, undique nullæ But mercy shone upon the merciless ! Reliquiæ apparent muri, fractæve columnæ, Strong but to save and valiant but to bless, Oblita non musco viridanti saxa, Pelasgi No ruthless Cæsars clad in blood and flame, Usque adeo miseras 'Trojæ invidere ruinas. Royal in virtue the Avengers came. Rhæteasque procul rupes, tumulumque capacem, Those whom I spoil'd, no spoilers came to me, Ajacis, vastà elatum super æquora mole I said, Be slave, 0 earth! but they—'O France, be Cernere erat-sed nulla quies-sed fervidus Heros free.' Stare loco nescit, flagratque cupidine pugnæ. For yon dark chief of woe, and guilt, and strife, Devenit at tandem, Sigeo ubi littore collis O sceptred judges! punish him with life. Eminet apricus, quem suavè olentia circum Fear not he seek with the old Roman pride, Serpylla, et viridi cingunt dumeta corona. That weakness to the noble soul allied, Hunc et Abydenus sea mollem na vita Leshon, To die as Cato, and as Brutus died. Pampineamve Chion, Samiæve altaria Divæ Invisit, radiante orientis lumine solis Suave aliquod carmen secum meditatur, et hæret Quadrijugos, Lydoque equitavit fulgidus auro, Deinde coloratos, qualis Jovis ales, ad Indos, Et matutinæ rosea incunabula lucis Stat torvus vultu, et cælestibus horret in armis, Deferor, auriferos Macedo bibit impiger amnes Fulmineosque agitat currus sublimis, et unum Atque ubi Pellæis tellus jam deficit armis, Hectora, per trepidas unum petit Hectora turmas: Nec superest nostro gens non indigna triumpho, Haud aliter cæcâ Æacides tellure videtur, Unus Alexander victo dominabitur orbi. Ceu lituo fremituque armorum excitus amato, Tollere se, juvenique ingens gratarier umbra. " Jamque procul Martis strepitus, jam pervenit aures Hunc videt, et viso gaudet, quin totus inani Ferrea vox belli, jam dira ad prælia Medus Figitur in specie, quamque ipse effinxerat umbram Aureus accingit galeam gladiumque coruscat Esse putat veram, mutoque immobilis ore Impatiens sati, et Graiæ vim provocat ultro Stat Macedo; ast Asiæ fines atque ultimus orbis Cuspidis, ardentique superbit barbarus ostro Sentit Alexandri requiem, tardataque fata. Non æquas, Darie, malo petis omine pugnas! Ibat ovans ferrum Argolicis flammasque carinis Tum lecti comites instaurant sacra, et odori Insanâ virtute ferens Priameius Hector. Rite coronatis fumant altaribus ignes. Illum ergo Illiacæ rediturum vespere sero Fervet opus, latices pars vivo e fonte, Lyæo Speravere nurus, Pelide cæde madentem Immistos roseo, sinceraque flumina lactis Atque Agamemnonios agitantem ad Pergama curre Auratis libant pateris, pars florea, circum Speravere diu-crines procul ille venustos Serta, et odoriferos dispergunt veris honores. Formosumque caput fædabal pulvere in atro Quin et gramineam niveus mactatur ad aram Sordidus, Argivisque dabat ludibria nautis. Taurus, et humectat sacratam sanguine arenam. · Tartareas fauces reserabit et horrida claustra At procul Idæo spectat de vertice pompam Rex Erebi, utque meam videat coram incidus hastana, Turba Phrygum, mistaque irâ et formidine mussat, Myrmidonumque feros referentia bella parentes, Hos novus angit honos et adhuc invisus Achilles. Ad superas ingentem auras emittit Achiller. Atque aliqua in trepida mater stat mæsta caterva Ille mihi pugnas inter fremitumque, furoremque Andromachen animo reputans, Ithacique cruentâ Addit se comitem, et curru famulatur oranti. Astyanacta manu dejectum manibus altis, Vidi egomet, nisi vana oculos illusit imago, Dilectumque premit pavefacta ad pectora natum. Spicula crispantem, atque minaci cassida fronte, Stat virgo, mestosque fovet sub corde timores, Nutantem, quæ luce vagos tremefecit abená Ne nova materno direpta Polyxena collo Priamidas, nigrumque auratis Memnona bigis. Placet Achilleos infando sanguine Manes. Vidi egomet, neque vana fides, atroque sub Orco Immortalem animam tangit laus sera nepotum, At Rex Emathius nodosæ innititur hastæ Famaque Tartareis sonat haud ingrata sub umbris. Majestate minax, tacitâ, ceu numine plenus Felix Æacida! tacitas inglorius isses Fatidico vates, e pectore protinus amens Ad sedes Erebi, cæcâque oblivia nocte Excutit ille Deum, pulcher furor occupat ora, Invida pressissent nomen, quod barbarus Istri Terror inest oculis, procerior emicat ingens Potor, et Herculeis gens si qua admota columnis Forma viri, fluitant agitatæ in casside cristæ. Novit, et Æthiopes non æquo Sole calentes. At tibi Mæonides, seu quis Deus, aurea Olympi “Me quoque, me," clamat, " belli post mille labores, Regna procul linquens, cæci senis induit ore, Post fractas urbes, post regna hâc proruta dextrå Et plus quàm mortale melos, bellumque, tumultumUltima cantabit tellus. gens nulla silebit que Nomen Alexandri, sobolemque fatebitur Hammon. Infremuit, divina tuæ præconia laudis, Te, magne Æacida, decimus te viderit annus Æternumque dedit viridem frondescere famam. Iliacas arces et debita Pergama fatis Oppugnantem armis, me Sol mirabitur ire · Et nobis quandoque dabunt hæc ultima dona Victorem, cursuque suos præverlere currus. Dii, quibus Emathium decus et mea gloria cure. Jam Susa, et præclara auro niveoque elephanto Exoriare aliquis, nostrum qui nomen, Homerus, Ecbatana, et frustra patriorum ope freta Deorum Pellæosque seras ad sæcula sera triumphos, Persepolis (tristes inhiant ceu nubibus atris Exoriare, novus plectro non deerit Achilles." — Intonuere, simul nemorosa remugiit Ida. Exsiluit, fatique pavens præsagia iniqui Quo ferus Hystaspes, quo tramite Cyrus adegit Non audituro sudit vota irrita cælo. By valour mingled with the Gods above, FORTUNE FROM THE ITALIAN OF GUIDI. A LADY, like to Juno in her state, Upon the air her golden tresses streaming, And with celestial eyes of azure beaming, In purple and fine linen was she pallid, The splendour of the Indian emerald. Of beauty and of haughtiness, And from her inmost bosom sent, Officious and intent And “ Place,” she said, “ thy hand within my hair, And all around thou'lt see Delightful chances fair On golden feet come dancing unto thee. Me Jove's daughter shalt thou own, That with my sister Fate Sits by his side on state In vain, in well-appointed strength secure, The assaulting billows to endure; The Æolian caverns under And with my hand I burst asunder And in its fount the horrid restless fire I quench ere it aspire “My royal spirits oft Their solemn mystic round On Rome's great birth-day wound : And I the haughty Eagles sprung aloft Unto the Star of Mars upborne, Till, poising on their plumy sails, They 'gan their native vales That Senate House of Kings convened, Ever the Roman counsels lean'd Afric a captive, and through me Nile flow'd Did every native land of every wind become, And when I had o'ercome The vanquish'd world in one great gift 10 Rome. “I know that in thine high imagination, Other daughters of Great Jove Have taken their Imperial station, And queen-like thy submissive passions move; From them thy haughty verse presages And with their glorious rages On courser fleet, or winged bark, While in shepherd hamlet dark without; Gentle regard; I, I alone “ A blissful lady and immortal, born And steeps it in the light of her rich morn, That overshades and sicklies all thy shining; And though my lowly hair 419 • This is the hand that forged on Ganges' shore The Indians' empire; by Orontes set The royal tiar the Assyrian wore; Hung jewels on the brow of Babylon, By Tigris wreath'd the Persian's coronet, The triumph and the song When he through Asia swept along, A torrent swift and strong; 37* |