 | Grecian Prospects |  |
55
CANTO THE THIRD.
“Then (heaving a deep sigh, the bard exclaim'd)
“Then, what avails the high transmitted soul?
“What, that along the track where glory flam'd
“It bids its vengeance on barbarians roll,
“Red as the thunder that o'erwhelms the pole?
“Ah! what avails the ambition of the brave;
“When, as insulting despots deal the dole
“Of destiny, the hero sinks, a slave,
“And, for a car, surveys no visionary grave?
“Then, what avails the high transmitted soul?
“What, that along the track where glory flam'd
“It bids its vengeance on barbarians roll,
“Red as the thunder that o'erwhelms the pole?
“Ah! what avails the ambition of the brave;
“When, as insulting despots deal the dole
“Of destiny, the hero sinks, a slave,
“And, for a car, surveys no visionary grave?
“Ah! what avails it, that a lonely few
“Scatter'd and lorn, in each inglorious grove,
“The fleeting shadows of their sires pursue?
“What, that amid sepulchral wastes they rove,
“Couch the mock lance, and burn with patriot love,
“Yet dare not cherish the domestic flame?
“Ah! what avails it, when they sadly prove
“How vain, amid their rifled homes, the name
“Of husband, or of sire, to heed their country's fame!”
“Scatter'd and lorn, in each inglorious grove,
“The fleeting shadows of their sires pursue?
“What, that amid sepulchral wastes they rove,
“Couch the mock lance, and burn with patriot love,
“Yet dare not cherish the domestic flame?
“Ah! what avails it, when they sadly prove
“How vain, amid their rifled homes, the name
“Of husband, or of sire, to heed their country's fame!”
56
Scarce had he spoke, when whirl'd thro' billowy clouds,
He rose, nor ceas'd the involuntary flight,
Till from the topmost peak that Athos shrouds
Now in drear snows, now veils with amber-light,
He view'd all Greece outstretcht before his sight,
And the blue sea with clustering isles embost,
While, here, bold crags appear'd, and caverns white,
And spiry groves, and mountains hoar with frost,
There, gleam'd receding cliffs in purple azure lost.
He rose, nor ceas'd the involuntary flight,
Till from the topmost peak that Athos shrouds
Now in drear snows, now veils with amber-light,
He view'd all Greece outstretcht before his sight,
And the blue sea with clustering isles embost,
While, here, bold crags appear'd, and caverns white,
And spiry groves, and mountains hoar with frost,
There, gleam'd receding cliffs in purple azure lost.
Slow, from each island, with gigantic march,
Pass'd the dun vapors: and the elysian sky
Stream'd o'er the prospect from a wider arch,
Till, laughing all the distant isles drew nigh;
When, now, the bard beheld with wondering eye
Where Athos bids his evening-shadow rest;
And e'en the Ionian billows sparkling high
Where Ithaca projects its rocky crest,
Or airs ambrosial melt o'er Zante's luxurious breast.
Pass'd the dun vapors: and the elysian sky
Stream'd o'er the prospect from a wider arch,
Till, laughing all the distant isles drew nigh;
When, now, the bard beheld with wondering eye
Where Athos bids his evening-shadow rest;
And e'en the Ionian billows sparkling high
Where Ithaca projects its rocky crest,
Or airs ambrosial melt o'er Zante's luxurious breast.
57
Such was the scene.—when bending o'er the expanse
Of waves, the woods of Chios lash'd the tide;
As, from her eastern shore, the hosts of France
Wound in deep phalanx up a mountain side;
And with his little band by love allied
The summit of the rock Araxes trod;
While, shrieking from amidst the foe, his bride
With pale uplifted eyes implor'd her god,
And the fell troop with lust and execration glow'd.
Of waves, the woods of Chios lash'd the tide;
As, from her eastern shore, the hosts of France
Wound in deep phalanx up a mountain side;
And with his little band by love allied
The summit of the rock Araxes trod;
While, shrieking from amidst the foe, his bride
With pale uplifted eyes implor'd her god,
And the fell troop with lust and execration glow'd.
“There (as his helmet-plumes Araxes shook)
“There, from those isles (the hero seem'd to say)
“Rais'd by my voice, as winter swells the brook,
“There gathering armies bend their vengeful way.”
Choakt in mid-utterance was the rude essay
To speak, as, glancing on his frantic fair,
In her sunk eyes he saw the faded ray,
Her torn veil fluttering—her dishevel'd hair,
And trembling hands that beat her bosom in despair.
“There, from those isles (the hero seem'd to say)
“Rais'd by my voice, as winter swells the brook,
“There gathering armies bend their vengeful way.”
Choakt in mid-utterance was the rude essay
To speak, as, glancing on his frantic fair,
In her sunk eyes he saw the faded ray,
Her torn veil fluttering—her dishevel'd hair,
And trembling hands that beat her bosom in despair.
58
Proud Melos triumph'd in the hostile clang,
Where Alcon had pour'd forth the impassion'd strain;
While to her haughty lords her hollows rang
Resounding with abortive echoes, vain
As when the sword of Nicias smote the plain.
Lo, where her mastics bloom, her caverns steam,
The champion to his friend devotes the slain;
And, as strewn corses gorge the smoaking stream,
His buckler lightens round, to mock the noon-day beam.
Where Alcon had pour'd forth the impassion'd strain;
While to her haughty lords her hollows rang
Resounding with abortive echoes, vain
As when the sword of Nicias smote the plain.
Lo, where her mastics bloom, her caverns steam,
The champion to his friend devotes the slain;
And, as strewn corses gorge the smoaking stream,
His buckler lightens round, to mock the noon-day beam.
Nor he, who sung sore-ravisht from his arms—
Who sung to pity's lute the Naxian maid,
Breath'd his fond passion o'er her pictur'd charms,
Or told his sorrows to the citron shade.
Already, had he summon'd to his aid
His comrade Greeks, and, fiercest of the van,
Plung'd in the crouching Gaul his angry blade,
And seiz'd the fortress where the fight began,
As crowds with headlong haste from off the ramparts ran.
Who sung to pity's lute the Naxian maid,
Breath'd his fond passion o'er her pictur'd charms,
Or told his sorrows to the citron shade.
Already, had he summon'd to his aid
His comrade Greeks, and, fiercest of the van,
Plung'd in the crouching Gaul his angry blade,
And seiz'd the fortress where the fight began,
As crowds with headlong haste from off the ramparts ran.
59
Amid the havoc of infuriate lust
Where Cephalenia rued the Gallic horde;
Already to the vows of vengeance just,
Rag'd o'er the sea-beat rocks her Grecian lord:
Already, his wild arm with carnage gor'd,
Each mimic ensign by the roots had wrench'd:
Already, as he wav'd his savior-sword,
His squadrons had along the coast entrench'd,
And with the lives of Gauls the thirsting vallies drench'd.
Where Cephalenia rued the Gallic horde;
Already to the vows of vengeance just,
Rag'd o'er the sea-beat rocks her Grecian lord:
Already, his wild arm with carnage gor'd,
Each mimic ensign by the roots had wrench'd:
Already, as he wav'd his savior-sword,
His squadrons had along the coast entrench'd,
And with the lives of Gauls the thirsting vallies drench'd.
And now, as wheels the falcon round its nest
The snake uncoil'd o'er crags ascending slow,
Araxes, ranging still the mountain-crest,
Look'd down upon the volumes of the foe,
And caught the threatening summons from below
That bade him strait reclaim the rebel race,
Or shudder at a spectacle of woe,
His grandsire, brethren slain before his face—
His beauteous bride consign'd to many a rude embrace.
The snake uncoil'd o'er crags ascending slow,
Araxes, ranging still the mountain-crest,
Look'd down upon the volumes of the foe,
And caught the threatening summons from below
That bade him strait reclaim the rebel race,
Or shudder at a spectacle of woe,
His grandsire, brethren slain before his face—
His beauteous bride consign'd to many a rude embrace.
60
Lo, the steel dropping on his grandsire's head
The minute-drops of murder, midst a host
Whose rage is with the pangs of misery fed!
And on their bristling halberts well-nigh tost
His little trembling brethren! and the boast
Of Chios' vallies, like the lily crusht—
Condemn'd to mourn her virgin honors lost!
When the fierce Greeks, by all the furies flusht,
Down from the mountain-top, to meet a myriad, rush'd.
The minute-drops of murder, midst a host
Whose rage is with the pangs of misery fed!
And on their bristling halberts well-nigh tost
His little trembling brethren! and the boast
Of Chios' vallies, like the lily crusht—
Condemn'd to mourn her virgin honors lost!
When the fierce Greeks, by all the furies flusht,
Down from the mountain-top, to meet a myriad, rush'd.
Dire was the fray; while throngs, to clasp the wave,
Araxes hurried from the impending steep:
But what avail'd a daring few, to brave
Troops that o'erspread the rock, and fill'd the sweep
Of the wide valley, wedg'd in phalanx deep?
Still, the ranks opening where he ran, with fear
Shrunk back, and fell in many a mingled heap!
Yet hark! confusion in the Gallic rear—
Yet hark! the British trump assails each startled ear!
Araxes hurried from the impending steep:
But what avail'd a daring few, to brave
Troops that o'erspread the rock, and fill'd the sweep
Of the wide valley, wedg'd in phalanx deep?
Still, the ranks opening where he ran, with fear
Shrunk back, and fell in many a mingled heap!
Yet hark! confusion in the Gallic rear—
Yet hark! the British trump assails each startled ear!
61
“See, (said the Genius) see, triumphant ride
“Yon lordly ships along the Ionian shores—
“See, the same pendants shade the Egean tide!
“And o'er the gladden'd isles as freedom pours
“Her sons, thro' Greece the British thunder roars!
“From Cephalenia flies the robber-train:
“And, as the soul of Grecian battle soars,
“Lo! Naxos tramples on her despots slain,
“And sun-clad Chios greets the mistress of the main.
“Yon lordly ships along the Ionian shores—
“See, the same pendants shade the Egean tide!
“And o'er the gladden'd isles as freedom pours
“Her sons, thro' Greece the British thunder roars!
“From Cephalenia flies the robber-train:
“And, as the soul of Grecian battle soars,
“Lo! Naxos tramples on her despots slain,
“And sun-clad Chios greets the mistress of the main.
“Yes! thro' a sanguine cloud where demons broke,
“Bath'd in pure heaven the cross o'er Chios flows!
“And yonder groupe, beside the reeking rock,
“Araxes' rescued family, repose
“In tremulous hope. The Britons round them close,
“And kindly listen to the fair-one's tale,
“As o'er her form disorder'd beauty glows!
“And hark, as aweful echoes rend the dale,
“Prince of the Grecian isles, their shouts Araxes hail!”
“Bath'd in pure heaven the cross o'er Chios flows!
“And yonder groupe, beside the reeking rock,
“Araxes' rescued family, repose
“In tremulous hope. The Britons round them close,
“And kindly listen to the fair-one's tale,
“As o'er her form disorder'd beauty glows!
“And hark, as aweful echoes rend the dale,
“Prince of the Grecian isles, their shouts Araxes hail!”
| Grecian Prospects | |