« PreviousContinue »
No city on the many peopled earth
Hath been the witness of such valiant deeds As thou hast, Ptolemais ! and by whom Were they achieved ? by Britons, one and all. The first our lion-hearted king may claim; And who the second ? he who drove across The torrid desert the (till then uncheckt) Invader, from those realms the Ptolemies Ruled, and the Cæsars followed in their train, Sidney, the last of chivalry. One more Rode o’er the sea to win the crown that hung Inviting on thy walls : he also bore A name illustrious even as Sidney's own, Napier was he.
'Tis something to have held His hand in mine, 't is somewhat to record One of his actions in the crowded page.
Walter Savage Landor.
CAVE OF ADULLAM.
AVID and his three captains bold
Kept ambush once within a hold. It was in Adullam's cave, Nigh which no water they could have, Nor spring nor running brook was near To quench the thirst that parched them there. Then David, King of Israel, Straight bethought him of a well, Which stood beside the city gate, At Bethlem; where, before his state Of kingly dignity, he had Oft drunk his fill, a shepherd lad; But now his fierce Philistine foe Encamped before it he does know. Yet ne'er the less, with heat opprest, Those three bold captains he addrest; And wished that one to him would bring Some water from his native spring. His valiant captains instantly To execute his will did fly. The mighty Three the ranks broke through Of armed foes, and water drew For David, their beloved king, At his own sweet native spring. Back through their armed foes they haste,
With the hard-earned treasure graced.
VYPRIAN. In the sweet solitude of this calm place,
This intricate wild wilderness of trees And flowers and undergrowth of odorous plants, Leave me; the books you brought out of the house To me are ever best society. And whilst with glorious festival and song Antioch now celebrates the consecration Of a proud temple to great Jupiter, And bears his image in loud jubilee To its new shrine, I would consume what still Lives of the dying day in studious thought, Far from the throng and turmoil. You, my friends, Go and enjoy the festival; it will Be worth the labor, and return for me When the sun seeks its grave among the billows, Which among the dim gray clouds on the horizon Dance like white plumes upon a hearse; and here I shall expect you.
What noise is that among the boughs ? Who moves ?
DÆMON. 'T is a foreign gentleman.
Cyp. ’T is singular that even within the sight
DÆM. And such is ignorance! Even in the sight
Pedro Calderon. Tr. P. B. Shelley.