 | The path of sorrow, or, the lament of youth |  |
ANASTASIUS.
“Pleasant are the words of song, said Cuchullin, and lovely are the tales of other times. They are like the calm dew of the morning on the hill of rose, when the sea is faint on its side, and the lake is settled and blue in the vale.”
Ossian.
Hail, Ægean! my Ægean! thou sea of the Lord!
Whose bosom has borne many vessels of war;
Whose billows transported tho song of the bard,
Who roamed from his home and his country afar.
In thy bosom of slumber—now sleeping to heaven,
Beneath the blue azure that pillows the sky,
Shall the vessel of glory and triumph be driven,
To fire my spirit and beam in my eye.
Whose bosom has borne many vessels of war;
Whose billows transported tho song of the bard,
Who roamed from his home and his country afar.
In thy bosom of slumber—now sleeping to heaven,
Beneath the blue azure that pillows the sky,
Shall the vessel of glory and triumph be driven,
To fire my spirit and beam in my eye.
Hail, Ægean! my Ægean! thou wave of the world!
Where the pilgrim and poet has loitered of yore;
Where his soul did inspirit—his banner unfurled
The bondage of Greece in the midst of her gore.
On thy borders of beauty the poet shall lie,
And bid recollection inspirit his soul;
For the lawn of thy glory shall dazzle the eye,
While the beacon of heaven shall over thee roll.
Where the pilgrim and poet has loitered of yore;
Where his soul did inspirit—his banner unfurled
The bondage of Greece in the midst of her gore.
On thy borders of beauty the poet shall lie,
And bid recollection inspirit his soul;
For the lawn of thy glory shall dazzle the eye,
While the beacon of heaven shall over thee roll.
Hail, Ægean! blue Ægean! thou boon of my life!
Where chivalry beamed in the days of my youth;
Where the vessel of sorrow has grappl'd with strife!
As the gale of the sky sung the Syren of truth—
Where the music of Time woke the sob and the sigh,
Where the rapture of freedom shall warble no more
As thy billows shall roll to the beams of the sky,
And the islands of bliss drink thy remnant of gore.
Where chivalry beamed in the days of my youth;
Where the vessel of sorrow has grappl'd with strife!
As the gale of the sky sung the Syren of truth—
Where the music of Time woke the sob and the sigh,
Where the rapture of freedom shall warble no more
As thy billows shall roll to the beams of the sky,
And the islands of bliss drink thy remnant of gore.
115
Oh, Hydra! my Isle! I will leave thee—no, never!
Thou gem of the sea, which awakens my soul;
While my Palemade towers a giant forever,
All snowy Taygetus outsilvers the whole.
Thou picturesque scene, my Napoll of earth,
As the moon in her lustre emblazens the sky;
Was the song of my soul on the morn of my birth—
But lo! am I beaten?—I falter!—I die!
Thou gem of the sea, which awakens my soul;
While my Palemade towers a giant forever,
All snowy Taygetus outsilvers the whole.
Thou picturesque scene, my Napoll of earth,
As the moon in her lustre emblazens the sky;
Was the song of my soul on the morn of my birth—
But lo! am I beaten?—I falter!—I die!
Hark! for the spirit of freedom awakens my heart;
What beacon is this—on the blue purling wave?
'Tis the glow from their banner—the Turk—yes, the dart,
Now tells me, my Ægean, that thou art my grave!
What enchantment is this?—'tis the starlight of gold,
Now gilding with glory, the bright silver ground;
Where the tale of my freedom has often been told,
But the trump of captivity echoes around.
What beacon is this—on the blue purling wave?
'Tis the glow from their banner—the Turk—yes, the dart,
Now tells me, my Ægean, that thou art my grave!
What enchantment is this?—'tis the starlight of gold,
Now gilding with glory, the bright silver ground;
Where the tale of my freedom has often been told,
But the trump of captivity echoes around.
What! shall my spirit succumb to the dart?
Shall my country her glory and freedom deplore?
Shall the spirit of triumph be dragged from my heart?
And thy bosom, my Ægean, all colored with gore?
No; for the untired spirit of purpose shall rise,
Careering thy waves, so romantic and strong—
Achieving the purpose—when Moslem shall rise—
Retrieving my country, the depth of my wrong.
Shall my country her glory and freedom deplore?
Shall the spirit of triumph be dragged from my heart?
And thy bosom, my Ægean, all colored with gore?
No; for the untired spirit of purpose shall rise,
Careering thy waves, so romantic and strong—
Achieving the purpose—when Moslem shall rise—
Retrieving my country, the depth of my wrong.
Lo! the undying purpose of his heart,
Nursed in the panoply of Andrea's love,
Begirt him with the festoon and the dart,
And o'er the billows of Ægean drove.
Nursed in the panoply of Andrea's love,
Begirt him with the festoon and the dart,
And o'er the billows of Ægean drove.
Auspicious patriot! let thy name remain
A monumental shrine upon this wave!
Go on, my son, and freedom's chaplet gain,
Or with thy breathren, seek a watery grave.
A monumental shrine upon this wave!
Go on, my son, and freedom's chaplet gain,
Or with thy breathren, seek a watery grave.
Farewell my father! fare thee well!
Within the ocean's bounds I dwell;
I shed no tears, because my days are done,
But weep, because they have not begun!
Within the ocean's bounds I dwell;
116
But weep, because they have not begun!
Farewell my Anastasius! fare the well!
This heart shall love thee over;
Within my heart, thy name shall dwell,
Forever and forever!
This heart shall love thee over;
Within my heart, thy name shall dwell,
Forever and forever!
Hark! for the battle is nigh—at the door!
Oh! Liberty, Liberty—heavenly sound!
Shall my country her freedom deplore?—
Hark!—hear the war trumpets thundering sound!
Arise! the alternative—where? oh! where
Is the avenue leading to liberty's dome?
Shall we, like the Helots of Sparta, repair
To a land all forsaken and lone?
No; shake off pollution like Athen's of yore—
Let classic refinement illumine my shore.
Oh! Liberty, Liberty—heavenly sound!
Shall my country her freedom deplore?—
Hark!—hear the war trumpets thundering sound!
Arise! the alternative—where? oh! where
Is the avenue leading to liberty's dome?
Shall we, like the Helots of Sparta, repair
To a land all forsaken and lone?
No; shake off pollution like Athen's of yore—
Let classic refinement illumine my shore.
List—for the vessel of Turkey is nigh—
She's waving her banner and crying aloud—
Liberty! Liberty's flag I discry!
While their emulous smoke is ascending the cloud,
Lo! for destruction is heaving in view!
Midst chivalry, liberty, bleeding and death!
We grapple!—we struggle!—we bleed! and the crew
That remains is now loosing their breath!
The sabre now dinted, lies swimming in gore,
While the dying is crawling the vanquishing o'er!
She's waving her banner and crying aloud—
Liberty! Liberty's flag I discry!
While their emulous smoke is ascending the cloud,
Lo! for destruction is heaving in view!
Midst chivalry, liberty, bleeding and death!
We grapple!—we struggle!—we bleed! and the crew
That remains is now loosing their breath!
The sabre now dinted, lies swimming in gore,
While the dying is crawling the vanquishing o'er!
My God! in the midst of destruction and death!
Anastasius beheld with his blood-shotten eyes,
His dying Leander, then gasping for breath!
He leaped to his side and embraced him—he dies!
Oh! my brother! my brother! my brother! he cried!—
His heart fluttered once, he embraced him—he died!
His cry was convulsive! he leaped in the sea,
And he swam with Leander then safe to the lee;
While the lion of chivaly stood by his side,
He whispered, “it was for my country I died!”
Anastasius beheld with his blood-shotten eyes,
His dying Leander, then gasping for breath!
He leaped to his side and embraced him—he dies!
Oh! my brother! my brother! my brother! he cried!—
His heart fluttered once, he embraced him—he died!
His cry was convulsive! he leaped in the sea,
And he swam with Leander then safe to the lee;
While the lion of chivaly stood by his side,
117
He kissed him again, and he gasped on the spot!
Anastasius then bid him adieu!
The name of his country he never forgot,
And he sprang on the board of the crew!
He tore from the heart of a Turk—lying dead!
His sabre all dinted with gore!
And he rolled off the vicegerent's head,
And whispered his country once more!
Anastasius then bid him adieu!
The name of his country he never forgot,
And he sprang on the board of the crew!
He tore from the heart of a Turk—lying dead!
His sabre all dinted with gore!
And he rolled off the vicegerent's head,
And whispered his country once more!
He returned to the land of his birth,
And leaped in the arms of his father;
I revisit my own bleeding earth,
But the ocean has burled my brother!
And leaped in the arms of his father;
I revisit my own bleeding earth,
But the ocean has burled my brother!
My God! did he die for his Isle?
Yes, he whispered and sobingly cried!—
Did his cheek glow with liberty's smile?
Yes, it was for his country he died!—
Woe, woe, to the trials that past!
For lo! there are many to come;
Thy days have begun, they must last,
And remember thy country and home!
Yes, he whispered and sobingly cried!—
Did his cheek glow with liberty's smile?
Yes, it was for his country he died!—
Woe, woe, to the trials that past!
For lo! there are many to come;
Thy days have begun, they must last,
And remember thy country and home!
He arose—bid his father adieu,
And his Hydra a longer farewell!
To the Isle of Ipsara, so true,
He sailed, with Helena to dwell.
And his Hydra a longer farewell!
To the Isle of Ipsara, so true,
He sailed, with Helena to dwell.
He met her—she glowed with a smile,
And he pressed her with sighs to his heart—
From the land of Ipsara, my Isle,
I never, can never depart!
Ipsara! thou Isle of my love!
I shall never forget thee? no, never!
Thy name and Helena's my love,
I will nurture and foster forever!
And he pressed her with sighs to his heart—
From the land of Ipsara, my Isle,
I never, can never depart!
Ipsara! thou Isle of my love!
I shall never forget thee? no, never!
Thy name and Helena's my love,
I will nurture and foster forever!
But lo!—for the veil of his glory was rent!
As the yell of despair struck his ear,
When to rescue her father, he went,
My God! many Turks did appear.
They seized on Helena—they bound her away!
While her beauty illumined the heavens;
When lo! on his couch,—as he famishing lay,
He cried, oh! my heart-strings are riven!
118
When to rescue her father, he went,
My God! many Turks did appear.
They seized on Helena—they bound her away!
While her beauty illumined the heavens;
When lo! on his couch,—as he famishing lay,
He cried, oh! my heart-strings are riven!
Behold!—on the turbulent ocean—
A vessel came forcing her way;
In the midst of her country's devotion,
She halted and beat to the bay.
A vessel came forcing her way;
In the midst of her country's devotion,
She halted and beat to the bay.
The sound woke the earth and the heavens!
The war din was heard o'er the sea;
When lo! from his couch he was driven,
To rescue the brave and the free!
He ran to the bark that was lying,
When lo! in a matron's attire,
He saw his Helena stand sighing,
His soul set his heart-strings on fire!
The war din was heard o'er the sea;
When lo! from his couch he was driven,
To rescue the brave and the free!
He ran to the bark that was lying,
When lo! in a matron's attire,
He saw his Helena stand sighing,
His soul set his heart-strings on fire!
In a web that was sable in grief!
As she cast up her eye to his face,
She sprang to his arms for relief,
And he gave her his lasting embrace.
Anastasius! she cried, oh! my lover,
Protect me—my virtue is thine!
Oh! save me, my darling, forever,
And let me no longer repine!
As she cast up her eye to his face,
She sprang to his arms for relief,
And he gave her his lasting embrace.
Anastasius! she cried, oh! my lover,
Protect me—my virtue is thine!
Oh! save me, my darling, forever,
And let me no longer repine!
He caught her in endless devotion,
While the winds in their growling did roar,
They leaped in the waves of the ocean,
And braved them, to reach to the shore.
But the Angel of death had descended!
Oh! kiss me, Helena, he cried!
While the glow of congretion they blended,
They strangled, they sunk—and they died!
While the winds in their growling did roar,
They leaped in the waves of the ocean,
And braved them, to reach to the shore.
But the Angel of death had descended!
Oh! kiss me, Helena, he cried!
While the glow of congretion they blended,
They strangled, they sunk—and they died!
| The path of sorrow, or, the lament of youth | |