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Horace in London

Consisting of imitations of the first two books of the odes of Horace. By the authors of the rejected addresses, or the new theatrum poetarum [Horace and James Smith]

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ODE XV. THE PARTHENON.
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59

ODE XV. THE PARTHENON.

On the Dilapidation of the Temple of Minerva at Athens.

Pastor quum traheret per freta navibus.

As Elgin o'er the violated wave,
Spoil'd Parthenon, thy marble glories bore,
While modern Greeks, alas! too weak to save,
With silent tears his sacrilege deplore,
Shriek in their tombs the demigods of yore,
Heroes and kings their spectred forms uprear,
Start from their sepulchres to throng the shore,
And as they view the ravager's career,
Point to the bounding bark, and poise the shadowy spear.

60

On speeds the vessel with her guilty prize,
Till sudden calms arrest her stately sweep;
Hush'd is th'expanse of ocean, earth and skies,
And a new Firmament appears to sleep
In the smooth mirror of the azure deep.
When lo! the wave with sudden splendour glows,
And while the crew a breathless silence keep,
Severe in majesty, Minerva rose,
Frown'd on the startled Scot, and prophesied his woes.
“Ruthless destroyer! luckless was the hour
When Athens' Sculptures at thy feet were hurl'd;
Trophies revered, which hitherto had power
To win the homage of an awe-struck world!
Goth, Vandal, Moslem, had their flags unfurl'd
Around my still unviolated Fane,
Two thousand summers had with dews impearl'd
Its marble heights nor left a mouldering stain;
'Twas thine to ruin all that all had spared in vain.

61

“Mine was the Temple, and be mine the care
To haunt it's spoiler, and avenge its doom:
No intellectual honours shalt thou share,
Minerva's curse shall wrap thy mind in gloom,
And Hymen shall thy nuptial hopes consume.—
Unless like fond Pygmalion thou canst wed
Statues thy hand could never give to bloom,
In wifeless wedlock shall thy life be led,
No marriage joys to bless thy solitary bed.
“The Grecian Deities already rush
To smite th'insulter of their native seat;
Venus for ever bars the modest blush,
Love's chaste alarms and its endearments sweet.
Mars shall deny the Hero's patriot heat,
Nor can thy ravish'd trophies yield relief;
The household Gods shall frown on thy retreat,
And when thou seekst to drown reflection's grief,
Bacchus shall interdict oblivion's respite brief.

62

“Lo! Ocean's King engulphs thy victim bark ,
Snatching the relics of his earthly reign
To deck his coral palaces, and hark!
The sea nymphs sound their shells as they regain
The shipwreck'd trophies of their monarch's fane.
So shouldst thou perish with thy guilty freight,
But that thy life shall be thy greatest bane,
And Athens' Gods by thy forewarning fate
Shall stay th'unhallow'd hand uprear'd to violate.
“All who behold my mutilated pile
Shall brand its ravager with classic rage,
And soon a titled bard from Britain's Isle,
Thy country's praise and suffrage shall engage,
And fire with Athen's wrongs an angry age.
Poets unborn shall sing thy impious fame,
And time from history's eternal page
Expunging Alaric's and Omar's name,
Shall give to thine alone pre-eminence of shame.”
 

One of Lord Elgin's vessels was wrecked in the Archipelago.

See Lord Byron's Childe Harold.