The Poetical Works of John Langhorne ... To which are prefixed, Memoirs of the Author by his Son the Rev. J. T. Langhorne ... In Two Volumes |
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| III. | FABLE III.
THE
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 | The Poetical Works of John Langhorne |  |
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FABLE III. THE LAUREL AND THE REED.
The
reed that once the shepherd blew
On old Cephisus' hallow'd side,
To Sylla's cruel bow apply'd,
Its inoffensive master slew.
On old Cephisus' hallow'd side,
To Sylla's cruel bow apply'd,
Its inoffensive master slew.
Stay, bloody soldier, stay thy hand,
Nor take the shepherd's gentle breath:
Thy rage let innocence withstand;
Let music soothe the thirst of death.
Nor take the shepherd's gentle breath:
Thy rage let innocence withstand;
Let music soothe the thirst of death.
He frown'd—He bade the arrow fly—
The arrow smote the tuneful swain;
No more its tone his lip shall try,
Nor wake its vocal soul again.
The arrow smote the tuneful swain;
No more its tone his lip shall try,
Nor wake its vocal soul again.
Cephisus, from his sedgy urn,
With woe beheld the sanguine deed;
He mourn'd, and, as they heard him mourn,
Assenting sigh'd each trembling reed.
With woe beheld the sanguine deed;
He mourn'd, and, as they heard him mourn,
Assenting sigh'd each trembling reed.
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“Fair offspring of my waves,” he cried;
“That bind my brows, my banks adorn,
“Pride of the plains, the rivers' pride,
“For music, peace, and beauty born!
“That bind my brows, my banks adorn,
“Pride of the plains, the rivers' pride,
“For music, peace, and beauty born!
“Ah! what, unheedful have we done?
“What dæmons here in death delight?
“What fiends that curse the social sun?
“What furies of infernal night?
“What dæmons here in death delight?
“What fiends that curse the social sun?
“What furies of infernal night?
“See, see my peaceful shepherds bleed!
“Each heart in harmony that vy'd,
“Smote by its own melodious reed,
“Lies cold, along my blushing side.
“Each heart in harmony that vy'd,
“Smote by its own melodious reed,
“Lies cold, along my blushing side.
“Back to your urn, my waters, fly;
“Or find in earth some secret way;
“For horror dims yon conscious sky,
“And hell has issu'd into day.”
“Or find in earth some secret way;
“For horror dims yon conscious sky,
“And hell has issu'd into day.”
Thro' Delphi's holy depth of shade
The sympathetic sorrows ran;
While in his dim and mournful glade
The Genius of her groves began:
The sympathetic sorrows ran;
While in his dim and mournful glade
The Genius of her groves began:
“In vain Cephisus sighs to save
“The swain that loves his watry mead,
“And weeps to see his reddening wave,
“And mourns for his perverted reed:
“The swain that loves his watry mead,
“And weeps to see his reddening wave,
“And mourns for his perverted reed:
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“In vain my violated groves
“Must I with equal grief bewail,
“While desolation sternly roves,
“And bids the sanguine hand assail.
“Must I with equal grief bewail,
“While desolation sternly roves,
“And bids the sanguine hand assail.
“God of the genial stream, behold
“My laurel shades of leaves so bare!
“Those leaves no poet's brows enfold,
“Nor bind Apollo's golden hair.
“My laurel shades of leaves so bare!
“Those leaves no poet's brows enfold,
“Nor bind Apollo's golden hair.
“Like thy fair offspring, misapply'd,
“Far other purpose they supply;
“The murderer's burning cheek to hide,
“And on his frownful temples die.
“Far other purpose they supply;
“The murderer's burning cheek to hide,
“And on his frownful temples die.
“Yet deem not these of Pluto's race,
“Whom wounded Nature sues in vain;
“Pluto disclaims the dire disgrace,
“And cries, indignant, They are men.”
“Whom wounded Nature sues in vain;
“Pluto disclaims the dire disgrace,
“And cries, indignant, They are men.”
| The Poetical Works of John Langhorne | |