The War-elegies of Tyrtaeus, imitated and addressed to the people of Great Britain. With some observations on the life and poems of Tyrtaeus. By Henry James Pye |
 | THE WAR-ELEGIES OF TYRTÆUS, IMITATED. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
 | The War-elegies of Tyrtaeus, imitated |  |
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THE WAR-ELEGIES OF TYRTÆUS, IMITATED.
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ELEGY I.
[Not mine to sing the racer's rapid flight]
Not mine to sing the racer's rapid flight,
Or the athletic wrestler's sinewy force,
Not tho' his limbs are strung with giant might,
His active steps outstrip the whirlwind's course;
Or the athletic wrestler's sinewy force,
Not tho' his limbs are strung with giant might,
His active steps outstrip the whirlwind's course;
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Her richest boons tho' lavish fortune shower,
His form tho' faultless, tho' divine his face,
Tho' deck'd in all the pride of regal power,
Tho' eloquence his every accent grace.
His form tho' faultless, tho' divine his face,
Tho' deck'd in all the pride of regal power,
Tho' eloquence his every accent grace.
Not all the gifts of glory and of fame,
All genius, and all industry can yield,
If the firm bosom feel not valor's flame,
Can form the hero of the martial field.
All genius, and all industry can yield,
If the firm bosom feel not valor's flame,
Can form the hero of the martial field.
If while he sees pale slaughter stalk around
And stain with purple gore the dewy plain,
He shrink inglorious from the threaten'd wound,
Nor in the radiant van of war remain.
And stain with purple gore the dewy plain,
He shrink inglorious from the threaten'd wound,
Nor in the radiant van of war remain.
This is true glory—this the noblest pride,
The brightest trophy blooming youth can wear;
This real merit in a people's eyes,
Before the rest the battle's rage to dare.
The brightest trophy blooming youth can wear;
This real merit in a people's eyes,
Before the rest the battle's rage to dare.
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Disdaining even the thought of flight or fear,
His life, his soul, by steady valor steel'd,
He calls to glorious death the lagging rear;
Such is the hero of the martial field.
His life, his soul, by steady valor steel'd,
He calls to glorious death the lagging rear;
Such is the hero of the martial field.
Now rushing on th'embattled foe amain
He turns his scatter'd ranks to shameful flight,
Now throws his eagle eye across the plain,
Guides the loud storm, and rules the waves of fight.
He turns his scatter'd ranks to shameful flight,
Now throws his eagle eye across the plain,
Guides the loud storm, and rules the waves of fight.
If in the battle's front he press the ground,
His friends, his parents, and his country's pride,
His manly bosom pierced with many a wound,
His snowy vest with purple glory dyed,
His friends, his parents, and his country's pride,
His manly bosom pierced with many a wound,
His snowy vest with purple glory dyed,
The mingled tear of youth and age is shed,
His funeral rites assembled senates grace,
The trophied banner o'er his tomb is spread,
And fame eternal waits his honor'd race.
His funeral rites assembled senates grace,
The trophied banner o'er his tomb is spread,
And fame eternal waits his honor'd race.
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Ne'er shall his glory fade, his name be lost,
(Tho' dead, his worth, his mem'ry, ne'er shall die,)
Who falls contending with the adverse host
For every public, every social tie.
(Tho' dead, his worth, his mem'ry, ne'er shall die,)
Who falls contending with the adverse host
For every public, every social tie.
But should he 'scape the long long sleep of death
What grateful crowds the godlike victor hail,
What strains of conquest sung with rapt'rous breath,
What shouts triumphant float on ev'ry gale.
What grateful crowds the godlike victor hail,
What strains of conquest sung with rapt'rous breath,
What shouts triumphant float on ev'ry gale.
Him every age and rank, alike revere,
Around his brows perennial laurels bloom,
'Till blest with ease thro' many a rolling year
He sink in silence to the peaceful tomb.
Around his brows perennial laurels bloom,
'Till blest with ease thro' many a rolling year
He sink in silence to the peaceful tomb.
To guard, to grace the veteran, all contend,
Where e'er he goes his presence reverence draws,
To him warm youth, and firmer manhood bend,
And even the hoary senior bows applause.
Where e'er he goes his presence reverence draws,
To him warm youth, and firmer manhood bend,
And even the hoary senior bows applause.
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Such is the fame that crowns th'heroic deed,
Such the reward of those who nobly dare;
Then snatch from glory's hand th'immortal meed,
Nor linger in the manly toil of war.
Such the reward of those who nobly dare;
Then snatch from glory's hand th'immortal meed,
Nor linger in the manly toil of war.
The king of Prussia seems to have had this in his mind, in the following passage of his Poem on the Art of War, though he applies to the prudent general, what Tyrtæus says of the daring soldier.
En vain possedez vous la force d'un athléte,
Qui dans Londres combat au bruit de la trompette:
Quand vous ressembleriez à ces fils de la terre,
A ces rivaux des dieux, qui leur firent la guerre,
Qui pour braver l'Olympe en leur rebellion
Souleverent l Osse sur le mont Pelion;
Quand du dieu des combats vous auriez le courage
Ne vous attendez point à gagner mon suffrage.
Taille, force valeur, tout est insuffisant,
Minerve exige plus du général pradent.
Qui dans Londres combat au bruit de la trompette:
Quand vous ressembleriez à ces fils de la terre,
A ces rivaux des dieux, qui leur firent la guerre,
Qui pour braver l'Olympe en leur rebellion
Souleverent l Osse sur le mont Pelion;
Quand du dieu des combats vous auriez le courage
Ne vous attendez point à gagner mon suffrage.
Taille, force valeur, tout est insuffisant,
Minerve exige plus du général pradent.
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ELEGY II.
[How long in sloth's inglorious fetters bound]
How long in sloth's inglorious fetters bound
Slumber the brave?—The soft enchantment break.
Britons to arms!—The taunting nations round
Call forth th'ingenuous blush on manhood's cheek.
Slumber the brave?—The soft enchantment break.
Britons to arms!—The taunting nations round
Call forth th'ingenuous blush on manhood's cheek.
Calmly ye sit as in the lap of peace,
Tho' loud the din of battle round you roars,
Tho' threat'ning storms on every side encrease,
And the proud Gaul insults your wave-worn shores.
Tho' loud the din of battle round you roars,
Tho' threat'ning storms on every side encrease,
And the proud Gaul insults your wave-worn shores.
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Shake off this torpid gloom—arouse, for shame,
And loose your fury on the barbarous foe;
Full in the radiant front of battle flame,
And even in death the bolt of vengeance throw.
And loose your fury on the barbarous foe;
Full in the radiant front of battle flame,
And even in death the bolt of vengeance throw.
For country, parents, children, blooming wife,
Let the young hero meet the foe elate,
Not fondly anxious for a fleeting life
Fore-doom'd th'inevitable prey of fate.
Let the young hero meet the foe elate,
Not fondly anxious for a fleeting life
Fore-doom'd th'inevitable prey of fate.
Grasp the bright sword, and rush to join the fight,
Since none can 'scape th'impartial stroke of death;
Oft from the field the recreant wings his flight
To yield on beds of down his coward breath.
Since none can 'scape th'impartial stroke of death;
Oft from the field the recreant wings his flight
To yield on beds of down his coward breath.
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To him a tear his country never gave,
No general grief marks his unhallow'd tomb;
While bending pensive o'er the warrior's grave
A sorrowing nation mourns his timeless doom.
No general grief marks his unhallow'd tomb;
While bending pensive o'er the warrior's grave
A sorrowing nation mourns his timeless doom.
His memory, when dead, by all deplor'd,
His country's guardian, and his kindred's boast:
When living, as a demi-god ador'd,
His breast a fortress, and his arm an host.
His country's guardian, and his kindred's boast:
When living, as a demi-god ador'd,
His breast a fortress, and his arm an host.
‘'Tis strange he hides him in fresh cups, soft beds,
‘Sweet words, or hath more ministers than we
‘Who draw his knives i' the war.’
‘Sweet words, or hath more ministers than we
‘Who draw his knives i' the war.’
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ELEGY III.
[But ye are Britons—are the sons of those]
But ye are Britons—are the sons of those,
Of that unconquer'd race, whose arms of yore,
In many a conflict from superior foes
The bloody wreaths of crimson conquest tore.
Of that unconquer'd race, whose arms of yore,
In many a conflict from superior foes
The bloody wreaths of crimson conquest tore.
Think on the trophies Creci, Poitiers, gave,
Remember Agincourt's illustrious plain;
Remember Blenheim's field, when Danube's wave
Pour'd a red deluge to th'affrighted main.
Remember Agincourt's illustrious plain;
Remember Blenheim's field, when Danube's wave
Pour'd a red deluge to th'affrighted main.
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Heaven frowns not on our cause—and shall the boast
Of impious myriads shake a Briton's soul?—
Rush to the field, and on yon savage host
The awful tempest of the battle roll.
Of impious myriads shake a Briton's soul?—
Rush to the field, and on yon savage host
The awful tempest of the battle roll.
By vengeance stung, and prodigal of life
Advance, nor fear death's universal doom;
Fame's guerdon theirs who fall amid the strife,
The sun of endless glory gilds their tomb.
Advance, nor fear death's universal doom;
Fame's guerdon theirs who fall amid the strife,
The sun of endless glory gilds their tomb.
You well have prov'd each dread extreme of war,
Have felt the ruthless god's terrific ire,
When you have chaced the timid foe afar,
Or ‘measur'd back your ground in faint retire.’
Have felt the ruthless god's terrific ire,
When you have chaced the timid foe afar,
Or ‘measur'd back your ground in faint retire.’
Ye know how few of those who bravely stand
A living bulwark to the croud behind,
And face with dauntless breasts the adverse band,
Have e'er in honor's field their breath resign'd.
A living bulwark to the croud behind,
And face with dauntless breasts the adverse band,
Have e'er in honor's field their breath resign'd.
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But words are weak to paint the foul disgrace,
The scenes of horrid carnage that await
The trembling steps of that unmanly race
Who fly inglorious from the field of fate.
The scenes of horrid carnage that await
The trembling steps of that unmanly race
Who fly inglorious from the field of fate.
Nor fall they by the brave,—the dastard train
Who fear to meet the thunder of the fight,
Pursue incessant o'er th'ensanguin'd plain
Their weaker foes, and stop their breathless flight.
Who fear to meet the thunder of the fight,
Pursue incessant o'er th'ensanguin'd plain
Their weaker foes, and stop their breathless flight.
Ne'er o'er his tomb shall fame her trophy rear,
To him no choral strain the Pæan sounds,
Who sinks beneath the following coward's spear,
His back unseemly gash'd with shameful wounds.
To him no choral strain the Pæan sounds,
Who sinks beneath the following coward's spear,
His back unseemly gash'd with shameful wounds.
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Advance brave youths, a close compacted band,
To check the adverse battle's furious tide;
Now foot to foot in firm-wedged phalanx stand,
‘Now set the teeth, and stretch the nostrils wide.’
To check the adverse battle's furious tide;
Now foot to foot in firm-wedged phalanx stand,
‘Now set the teeth, and stretch the nostrils wide.’
March boldly on to meet th'impetuous Gaul,
Pierce with resistless steel his threatening line:
Trust not inglorious to the distant ball,
Bid in his eyes the gleamy bayonet shine.
Pierce with resistless steel his threatening line:
Trust not inglorious to the distant ball,
Bid in his eyes the gleamy bayonet shine.
The white plume nodding o'er the helmed crest
Pour on his squadrons like a wintry flood,
And shocking, horse to horse and breast to breast,
Dye each avenging sword in hostile blood.
Pour on his squadrons like a wintry flood,
And shocking, horse to horse and breast to breast,
Dye each avenging sword in hostile blood.
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'Tis yours ye light arm'd foot, a scatter'd band,
On every side the harrass'd foe to tire,
Aim the destructive tube with skilful hand,
And thin his ranks by well-directed fire.
On every side the harrass'd foe to tire,
Aim the destructive tube with skilful hand,
And thin his ranks by well-directed fire.
Horace has imitated this, and what follows;
Dulce et decorum est pro patriâ mori,Mors et fugacem persequitur virum.
Nec parcit imbellis juventæ
Poplitibus timidoque tergo.
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ELEGY IV.
[On him shall fame, shall endless glory wait]
On him shall fame, shall endless glory wait,
Him future ages crown with just applause,
Who boldly daring in the field of fate
Falls a pure victim in his country's cause.
Him future ages crown with just applause,
Who boldly daring in the field of fate
Falls a pure victim in his country's cause.
Ah! view yon hapless fugitives who leave
Their seats paternal, and their native sky,
And the full breast in silent sorrow heave
Beneath the galling load of penury.
Their seats paternal, and their native sky,
And the full breast in silent sorrow heave
Beneath the galling load of penury.
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O'er distant realms who wretched exiles roam,
Perhaps an aged parent's footsteps guide,
Far from their social hearths, and much-loved home,
To meet the taunt of scorn, the frown of pride.
Perhaps an aged parent's footsteps guide,
Far from their social hearths, and much-loved home,
To meet the taunt of scorn, the frown of pride.
Who wander friendless on a foreign shore,
From foreign hands who ask precarious life,
And prostrate see at Avarice' iron door,
A helpless offspring and a weeping wife.
From foreign hands who ask precarious life,
And prostrate see at Avarice' iron door,
A helpless offspring and a weeping wife.
Thro' hostile regions as they sorrowing go
Tho' pity's bounteous hand afford relief,
In the moist eyelid of the generous foe
Contempt is mingled with the tear of grief.
Tho' pity's bounteous hand afford relief,
In the moist eyelid of the generous foe
Contempt is mingled with the tear of grief.
Far be from us such shame—No! We can die,
Can perish bravely in the glorious strife,
Or guard this hallow'd seat of liberty,
Guard every social charity of life.
Can perish bravely in the glorious strife,
Or guard this hallow'd seat of liberty,
Guard every social charity of life.
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Arm youthful warriors! arm! in Britain's right,
Advance, a martial, and a patriot band,
Disdaining pallid fear and shameful flight,
Point the long lance, and lift the shining brand.
Advance, a martial, and a patriot band,
Disdaining pallid fear and shameful flight,
Point the long lance, and lift the shining brand.
Spring ardent to the front, and court the fray,
Nor let the veteran warrior worn with age
Full in the vaward of the bright array
Provoke the war and sink beneath its rage.
Nor let the veteran warrior worn with age
Full in the vaward of the bright array
Provoke the war and sink beneath its rage.
The sight unfitting, ill becomes the plain
When bath'd in blood and seam'd with many a wound,
Vent'rous advanced before the youthful train
The venerable fathers press the ground.
When bath'd in blood and seam'd with many a wound,
Vent'rous advanced before the youthful train
The venerable fathers press the ground.
But in life's blooming spring the warrior's form
Still charms, tho' fate untimely steal the breath,
Like flowers uprooted by the vernal storm,
In ruin sweet, and beauteous even in death.
Still charms, tho' fate untimely steal the breath,
Like flowers uprooted by the vernal storm,
In ruin sweet, and beauteous even in death.
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While friendship gives the precious balm of praise,
Beauty shall pour her still more precious tear,
A people's voice the hymn of triumph raise,
A people's sorrows sanctify his bier.
Beauty shall pour her still more precious tear,
A people's voice the hymn of triumph raise,
A people's sorrows sanctify his bier.
THE END.
| The War-elegies of Tyrtaeus, imitated | |