 | Poems |  |
Why—why do we delay
With bursting sigh and trickling tear
To wend the mournful way?
First Three of the Choir,
(addressing the others).
Do ye not hear
The clashing sword—the whirring spear?—
When shall we go, with footsteps slow,
Clad in gloomy garb of woe—
On brows declining, chaplets twining,
At the sanctuaries to bow?
Oh never if not now!
Second Three,
(answering).
With bursting sigh and trickling tear
To wend the mournful way?
First Three of the Choir,
(addressing the others).
Do ye not hear
The clashing sword—the whirring spear?—
When shall we go, with footsteps slow,
Clad in gloomy garb of woe—
On brows declining, chaplets twining,
At the sanctuaries to bow?
Oh never if not now!
Second Three,
(answering).
I hear—I hear!
The clashing sword—the whirring spear!
Hark! hark! the air around
So teems with horrid sound,
It may be felt and seen!
Not one—not one! a thousand spears
With clashing din assault the ears—
Sharp cries and shouts between!
The clashing sword—the whirring spear!
Hark! hark! the air around
So teems with horrid sound,
21
Not one—not one! a thousand spears
With clashing din assault the ears—
Sharp cries and shouts between!
Lord of War! to thee we pray!
Lord of War! wilt thou betray
Thine own peculiar people—they
Who more than all thy rule obey?
Oh golden-helmëd god—look down—look down
Upon the city once thine own!
Come all ye Powers of Light!
Come in glorious might!
Come, every radiant Lord of heaven
Till wide the scattered foe be driven!
Till the virgin-band shall be
From the chilling terror free
Of soul-debasing slavery!
Lord of War! wilt thou betray
Thine own peculiar people—they
Who more than all thy rule obey?
Oh golden-helmëd god—look down—look down
Upon the city once thine own!
Come all ye Powers of Light!
Come in glorious might!
Come, every radiant Lord of heaven
Till wide the scattered foe be driven!
Till the virgin-band shall be
From the chilling terror free
Of soul-debasing slavery!
Against the walls, a roaring sea
Of proud-plumed men beats clamorously,
Lashed to fury, fierce and far
By the rushing breeze of war!
But oh! thou King of Gods, to whom, below,
Above, all things performance owe,
Our battles wage, our fears assuage
And baffle the besiegers' rage!
The Theban towers encircled stand
By a threatening Argive band
Gathering in increasing swarms—
And oh! those horrid arms!
Hark! the bits and trappings playing
Freely, as the chargers neighing
Proudly prance in furious mood,
Ring querulous for blood!
At every one of seven gates,
One of seven champions waits,
Breathing terrors fierce and high,
In spear-repulsing panoply!
Of proud-plumed men beats clamorously,
Lashed to fury, fierce and far
By the rushing breeze of war!
But oh! thou King of Gods, to whom, below,
Above, all things performance owe,
Our battles wage, our fears assuage
And baffle the besiegers' rage!
The Theban towers encircled stand
By a threatening Argive band
22
And oh! those horrid arms!
Hark! the bits and trappings playing
Freely, as the chargers neighing
Proudly prance in furious mood,
Ring querulous for blood!
At every one of seven gates,
One of seven champions waits,
Breathing terrors fierce and high,
In spear-repulsing panoply!
Oh Jove-descended power!
To whose delighted ear
The deafening bray of battle-hour
Is ravishingly dear!—
Minerva! be our trusty tower
In time of weakness near!
To whose delighted ear
The deafening bray of battle-hour
Is ravishingly dear!—
Minerva! be our trusty tower
In time of weakness near!
And thou, the God, whose mighty nod
The generous courser gave,
Without whose will the winds lie still,
The great Deep dare not rave—
Awed by the trident vast, whose sway
Upreared above the wave
The Monsters of the Main obey—
Thine anxious people save!
The generous courser gave,
Without whose will the winds lie still,
The great Deep dare not rave—
Awed by the trident vast, whose sway
Upreared above the wave
The Monsters of the Main obey—
Thine anxious people save!
Sire of our Cadmeian line!
Warrior God! thine ear incline;
Let our state thy power attest
Make thy glory manifest!
Venus too! we bow before thee,
Venus, ever we adore thee!
In thine ambrosial form we trace
The mother of the Theban race!
Oh then deeply we implore thee
Defend our long-loved dwelling place!
Mighty with the matchless bow!
Archer-king, assist us now!
And thou the chaste Latona-born!
Maiden of the mountain horn!
Diana! can the foe withstand
Shaft from thine unerring hand!
Warrior God! thine ear incline;
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Make thy glory manifest!
Venus too! we bow before thee,
Venus, ever we adore thee!
In thine ambrosial form we trace
The mother of the Theban race!
Oh then deeply we implore thee
Defend our long-loved dwelling place!
Mighty with the matchless bow!
Archer-king, assist us now!
And thou the chaste Latona-born!
Maiden of the mountain horn!
Diana! can the foe withstand
Shaft from thine unerring hand!
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