The fall of Nineveh A poem by Edwin Atherstone. Second edition: diligently corrected, and otherwise improved. In two volumes |
 | I, II. |
 | The fall of Nineveh |  |
On that same night, Assyria's blinded king
Again, amid his thousand lords and chiefs,
Sat at the riotous feast. A wilder joy
Than e'er before possessed him; for he deemed
His empire steadfast as the eternal hills;
His foes as but a mist about their heads,
That soon must melt and vanish. Loud were heard
The clang of harp and timbrel; loud the voice
Of singers, choiring in triumphant song,—
Him lauding as a god. With pride inflamed,
Harsh was his laugh, and bitter was his mock,
At the long-dreaded foe. And when, at length,
With midnight woke again the terrible storm,—
To madness rose his savage merriment.
The lightning's glare made pale his blazing lamps;
Yet nought feared he, intoxicate,—but raised
In maniac glee his arms, as he would clutch,
And hurl upon his foes, the blasting bolts.
Great thunders shook the walls; the hurricane
Howled like a countless army of the damned:
Yet but the wilder, as they louder raged,
Became his extacy: for, in that din,
Nought heard he save the withering voice of Death,
Against his enemies.
Again, amid his thousand lords and chiefs,
Sat at the riotous feast. A wilder joy
Than e'er before possessed him; for he deemed
His empire steadfast as the eternal hills;
His foes as but a mist about their heads,
That soon must melt and vanish. Loud were heard
The clang of harp and timbrel; loud the voice
Of singers, choiring in triumphant song,—
Him lauding as a god. With pride inflamed,
Harsh was his laugh, and bitter was his mock,
243
With midnight woke again the terrible storm,—
To madness rose his savage merriment.
The lightning's glare made pale his blazing lamps;
Yet nought feared he, intoxicate,—but raised
In maniac glee his arms, as he would clutch,
And hurl upon his foes, the blasting bolts.
Great thunders shook the walls; the hurricane
Howled like a countless army of the damned:
Yet but the wilder, as they louder raged,
Became his extacy: for, in that din,
Nought heard he save the withering voice of Death,
Against his enemies.
From his seat, at last,
Upspringing,—to and fro, with rapid stride,
He paced the hall. The lords, astonished, saw
His frantic gestures, and his glaring eyes.
His crimsoned face, distended veins, and lips
In eager motion, showed that to its height
His voice was lifted; yet no sound was heard,—
In thunder swallowed, and the tempest's roar.
Upspringing,—to and fro, with rapid stride,
He paced the hall. The lords, astonished, saw
His frantic gestures, and his glaring eyes.
His crimsoned face, distended veins, and lips
In eager motion, showed that to its height
His voice was lifted; yet no sound was heard,—
In thunder swallowed, and the tempest's roar.
But, suddenly pale, he stopped; for lo! the ground,
As with great blows, seemed reeling: and the walls,
Like trembling timbers of wave-battered ship,
From roof to deep foundation sharply jarred.
As with great blows, seemed reeling: and the walls,
Like trembling timbers of wave-battered ship,
From roof to deep foundation sharply jarred.
Up from his seat at once sprang every guest,
Pallid with terror, trembling, shrieking loud.
Some, on the glittering tables fixed their eyes,
Where gold and gems, like to a sun-kissed brook,
Quivered, and rocked; some, on the heaving floor
Gazed awe-struck, as they feared to see it ope,
And swallow them: upon the lofty roof
Looked some; and some upon the swaying walls,
As dreading momently lest they should fall,
And bury them.
Pallid with terror, trembling, shrieking loud.
Some, on the glittering tables fixed their eyes,
Where gold and gems, like to a sun-kissed brook,
Quivered, and rocked; some, on the heaving floor
Gazed awe-struck, as they feared to see it ope,
And swallow them: upon the lofty roof
Looked some; and some upon the swaying walls,
As dreading momently lest they should fall,
And bury them.
In midst of all, the king
With countenance aghast, stood staggering.
But the shock passed, and not a stone had fallen.
Then grew he bold again; and, lifting up
A brimming goblet, unto all made sign
That they should drink: and, when their cups were filled,
Toward heaven he turned his face; and, raising high
The golden vessel, waved it round and round,
As though to call out, “Thunder, Hurricane,
The king of all the east doth pledge you now.
Go on, and conquer: ye his soldiers are,
And, in your might and terror, will strike down,
And utterly destroy his enemies.”
So he, and drank.
With countenance aghast, stood staggering.
But the shock passed, and not a stone had fallen.
Then grew he bold again; and, lifting up
A brimming goblet, unto all made sign
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Toward heaven he turned his face; and, raising high
The golden vessel, waved it round and round,
As though to call out, “Thunder, Hurricane,
The king of all the east doth pledge you now.
Go on, and conquer: ye his soldiers are,
And, in your might and terror, will strike down,
And utterly destroy his enemies.”
So he, and drank.
But, scarce his impious lips
The wine had drained, when, reeling, down he fell.
The floor was lifted; the strong pillars swayed;
The roof, and massive walls, heaved to and fro.
From every hand at once down dropped the cup:
Some, backward fell; some, o'er the tables prone:
Who fell not, tottered like to drunken men:
Distent was every eye; and every face
Corpse-like with terror.
The wine had drained, when, reeling, down he fell.
The floor was lifted; the strong pillars swayed;
The roof, and massive walls, heaved to and fro.
From every hand at once down dropped the cup:
Some, backward fell; some, o'er the tables prone:
Who fell not, tottered like to drunken men:
Distent was every eye; and every face
Corpse-like with terror.
Once again the earth,
As if beneath the stroke of some vast weight,
Trembled and jarred: and faintly, afterward,
Amid the thunder and the wind, was heard
A noise as of the dash of waves, and grate
Of rocks descending. But the ground no more
Was shaken; and the fast-subsiding storm,
Like madman when his fury-fit is gone,
Sighed off to rest.
As if beneath the stroke of some vast weight,
Trembled and jarred: and faintly, afterward,
Amid the thunder and the wind, was heard
A noise as of the dash of waves, and grate
Of rocks descending. But the ground no more
Was shaken; and the fast-subsiding storm,
Like madman when his fury-fit is gone,
Sighed off to rest.
Soon, from the floor arose
The trembling king; and staggered to his throne.
The guests rose, also, and in haste sat down:
But every countenance was blanched with awe:
And, when the monarch, with a ghastly smile,
Poured out the wine, and signed to them to drink,
Each hand seemed ague-struck. When fell the storm,
And men could hear, and speak,—with catching breath,
Dark fears were whispered: nor, though strove the king
To wake again the mirth and revelry,
Could any heart make answer. To their lips
They raised the cup, and, with a hollow laugh,
Mimicked a merriment; but their souls were dark
With dread of yet worse evil.
The trembling king; and staggered to his throne.
The guests rose, also, and in haste sat down:
But every countenance was blanched with awe:
And, when the monarch, with a ghastly smile,
Poured out the wine, and signed to them to drink,
Each hand seemed ague-struck. When fell the storm,
And men could hear, and speak,—with catching breath,
Dark fears were whispered: nor, though strove the king
To wake again the mirth and revelry,
Could any heart make answer. To their lips
They raised the cup, and, with a hollow laugh,
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With dread of yet worse evil.
Still, resolved
The gloom to chase,—with a bold front the king
His goblet filled; and bade each guest his cup
Fill also, and drink deep.
The gloom to chase,—with a bold front the king
His goblet filled; and bade each guest his cup
Fill also, and drink deep.
“What looks are these!
Ye are not men,” he cried, “rulers, and chiefs,
But feeble-hearted women, if a blast
Of the rough wind, and trembling of the ground,
Can shake you thus. For thrice five hundred years
Hath stood this matchless city: thrice again,
Though hurricane and earthquake doubly rage,
And foes in tenfold number gather round,
Still must she stand; for thus the Fates decree:
Thus dead kings spake it. ‘This great Nineveh
To mortal might will never bow the knee,
Till Tigris from his bed shall 'gainst her rise;
O'ertop her battlement, and lofty towers,
And riot in her streets.’ Then be ye glad.
Not upon us, but on our enemies
Was hurled the wrath of heaven. At morn look forth,
And ye shall see on whom the bolts were shot,
For whom the earth hath gaped. Be joyous then:
Fill to the brim; and be our motto still,
‘EAT, DRINK, AND LOVE; NOUGHT ELSE IS WORTH A THOUGHT.’”
Ye are not men,” he cried, “rulers, and chiefs,
But feeble-hearted women, if a blast
Of the rough wind, and trembling of the ground,
Can shake you thus. For thrice five hundred years
Hath stood this matchless city: thrice again,
Though hurricane and earthquake doubly rage,
And foes in tenfold number gather round,
Still must she stand; for thus the Fates decree:
Thus dead kings spake it. ‘This great Nineveh
To mortal might will never bow the knee,
Till Tigris from his bed shall 'gainst her rise;
O'ertop her battlement, and lofty towers,
And riot in her streets.’ Then be ye glad.
Not upon us, but on our enemies
Was hurled the wrath of heaven. At morn look forth,
And ye shall see on whom the bolts were shot,
For whom the earth hath gaped. Be joyous then:
Fill to the brim; and be our motto still,
‘EAT, DRINK, AND LOVE; NOUGHT ELSE IS WORTH A THOUGHT.’”
Speaking, he raised his cup; and, after him,
All filled, and gave the answer. With forced glee,
Spake many, wishing so the king to please:
But most, with inward shuddering heard again
Those ominous words, remembered but too well,
As herald of their first great overthrow.
All filled, and gave the answer. With forced glee,
Spake many, wishing so the king to please:
But most, with inward shuddering heard again
Those ominous words, remembered but too well,
As herald of their first great overthrow.
Ere yet the acclamations all were hushed,
Without the palace a loud cry was heard,
A howl of consternation and despair.
Silent they sat, and listened; man on man
Anxiously looking, as though each of all
Would question, “What dire evil now hath fallen?”
Without the palace a loud cry was heard,
A howl of consternation and despair.
Silent they sat, and listened; man on man
Anxiously looking, as though each of all
Would question, “What dire evil now hath fallen?”
Some rose at length, unbidden, and went forth,
The cause to learn: the rest in mute suspense
Sat pallid; for the outcries louder grew;
And all with dread of some strange horror shook.
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Sat pallid; for the outcries louder grew;
And all with dread of some strange horror shook.
Anon, with faces white as sepulchre,
Shivering with fear, came they who had gone forth:
All eyes were on them fixed, all ears athirst
To catch their tidings. Like to drunken men,
Unsteadily they walked; and, nigh the king
Approaching, stood and gasped; but spake no word,
So terror froze them. With like look of fear,
The monarch on his glittering throne sat mute,
Their speech awaiting. Long time did they stand,
As they were magic-stricken: till, at length,
Impatience mastering dread, with husky voice
The king exclaimed—“Your tidings—quickly speak—
Speak,—or ye die!”
Shivering with fear, came they who had gone forth:
All eyes were on them fixed, all ears athirst
To catch their tidings. Like to drunken men,
Unsteadily they walked; and, nigh the king
Approaching, stood and gasped; but spake no word,
So terror froze them. With like look of fear,
The monarch on his glittering throne sat mute,
Their speech awaiting. Long time did they stand,
As they were magic-stricken: till, at length,
Impatience mastering dread, with husky voice
The king exclaimed—“Your tidings—quickly speak—
Speak,—or ye die!”
Then fell before his feet
The trembling lords; but Tartan still stood up,
And gave the answer.
The trembling lords; but Tartan still stood up,
And gave the answer.
“Mighty king of kings!
Make strong thy soul, for the dread doom draws nigh!
Furlongs in length, hath earthquake overthrown,
From pinnacle to base, the western wall!
Tigris, like angry ocean, hath arisen!
O'ertops fallen battlement, and shattered tower,
And riots in the streets!”
Make strong thy soul, for the dread doom draws nigh!
Furlongs in length, hath earthquake overthrown,
From pinnacle to base, the western wall!
Tigris, like angry ocean, hath arisen!
O'ertops fallen battlement, and shattered tower,
And riots in the streets!”
Like one who sees
A spectre in the darkness, glared the king:
He strove to rise; but all his strength was gone:
He strove to speak; but his relaxing jaw
Dropped nerveless. In a cold collapse, like death,
He shrank together, even as shrinks a leaf,
By lightning blasted.
A spectre in the darkness, glared the king:
He strove to rise; but all his strength was gone:
He strove to speak; but his relaxing jaw
Dropped nerveless. In a cold collapse, like death,
He shrank together, even as shrinks a leaf,
By lightning blasted.
Round him came in haste
A pitying few; and, with a tender care,
Unto his chamber bore him. But the rest
Girt up their robes, and from the palace fled,
Speechless with terror. Some unto their homes
Retired; and gathered up their gems and gold,
On flight intent; for now indeed all knew
The day of doom was nigh.
A pitying few; and, with a tender care,
Unto his chamber bore him. But the rest
Girt up their robes, and from the palace fled,
Speechless with terror. Some unto their homes
Retired; and gathered up their gems and gold,
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The day of doom was nigh.
With trembling limbs,
Some to the fatal breach walked hastily,
With their own eyes to see the yawning mouth
Of great Assyria's sepulchre.
Some to the fatal breach walked hastily,
With their own eyes to see the yawning mouth
Of great Assyria's sepulchre.
Oh! night
Of ruin, and of dread! From wall to wall,
Throughout the city sounds the voice of woe!
The dead are floating in the deluged streets:
In every quarter flare the heaven-lit fires.
Gone are the thunder-clouds: the waning moon
Through a thin vapour sheds her ghastly light
On the great chasm, and on the boiling flood.
Nigh to the foamy margin, stream the flames
Of countless torches, hurrying to and fro;
While drowning wretches, in their agony,
Beat on the torrent waves, and, shrieking, sink!
Of ruin, and of dread! From wall to wall,
Throughout the city sounds the voice of woe!
The dead are floating in the deluged streets:
In every quarter flare the heaven-lit fires.
Gone are the thunder-clouds: the waning moon
Through a thin vapour sheds her ghastly light
On the great chasm, and on the boiling flood.
Nigh to the foamy margin, stream the flames
Of countless torches, hurrying to and fro;
While drowning wretches, in their agony,
Beat on the torrent waves, and, shrieking, sink!
From house-top, temple, tower, and battlement,
The awe-struck myriads silently look on,
And know the day of their destruction nigh!
The awe-struck myriads silently look on,
And know the day of their destruction nigh!
| The fall of Nineveh | |