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47
GRECIAN PROSPECTS.
POSTSCRIPT.
Manaccan, March 13, 1799.
[_]
It may be proper to inform the reader, that “Grecian Prospects,” were originally entitled, “Visions of the Grecian Isles,” consisting of three cantos; and that the second and third canto contained an heroic tale, which, illustrating the genius of the modern Greeks, might also have been considered in connexion with the political occurrences of the moment. The battle of the Nile was just past; and the Russian and the Turk had joined the English, in support of the common cause. It was then, that the author's fancy anticipating the discomfiture of Buonaparte, began to distribute amongst the belligerent powers, various countries, both in Europe and in Asia, with the view to a general pacification.
Amidst this ideal distribution, were adjudged to England the continent and islands of Greece. That Turkey should concede to England her possessions in Greece, appeared sufficiently reasonable; indebted as she was to this country for the preservation of Egypt, and, perhaps, of the whole Ottoman Empire.
Under this impression, the Tale of Araxes was written; where not only the Grecian Isles that were really in possession of France, but others supposed to have fallen into her hands, were represented as in a general ferment, from the insults and barbarities of their savage masters; where their courage rose superior to almost every obstacle; and the British Fleets were finally introduced to complete their triumph.
The tale (here presented to the reader) was detached from the poem, from a suspicion of its being defective in the unities; though in a vision, or dream, a strict
48
CANTO THE SECOND.
“See,” (cried the Spirit) from his circling wand,
As sacred light and fragrance fill'd the skies,
“See Chios' cliffs approach: Behold the land
“Of destin'd worthies in clear vision rise.
“And lo! on yonder slope a village lies,
“Where the hill-pines a sabler umbrage shed:
“Cast, on that village, thine observant eyes:
“There rests the bolt of heaven, foredoom'd to spread
“Terror and glory round, and vindicate the dead.
As sacred light and fragrance fill'd the skies,
“See Chios' cliffs approach: Behold the land
“Of destin'd worthies in clear vision rise.
“And lo! on yonder slope a village lies,
“Where the hill-pines a sabler umbrage shed:
“Cast, on that village, thine observant eyes:
“There rests the bolt of heaven, foredoom'd to spread
“Terror and glory round, and vindicate the dead.
“Of yon grey mansion, once Minerva's fane,
“My lamps aërial lighten up the walls!
“On its wide roof converse a kindred train,
“Whom not a shade of dastard fear appals;
“That often, as the cool night-curtain falls,
“In talk their spirits worn by toil repair;
“And with such tales as glad thy Cambrian halls,
“The guardian of renown in fancy share,
“And give the clarion's blast to scatter every care.
“My lamps aërial lighten up the walls!
“On its wide roof converse a kindred train,
“Whom not a shade of dastard fear appals;
“That often, as the cool night-curtain falls,
“In talk their spirits worn by toil repair;
“And with such tales as glad thy Cambrian halls,
“The guardian of renown in fancy share,
“And give the clarion's blast to scatter every care.
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“Ee'n now I see them listening with delight
“To yonder chief, who tells the deeds of old:
“I hear him, his awakening tale recite:
“'Tis young Araxes. His keen eyes behold,
“His energetic air, his aspect bold;
“While warlike genius points to trophies won,
“To cars amid triumphal pæans roll'd:
“His audience every gesture, every tone
“Applaud, and fondly deem the fame of Greece their own.
“To yonder chief, who tells the deeds of old:
“I hear him, his awakening tale recite:
“'Tis young Araxes. His keen eyes behold,
“His energetic air, his aspect bold;
“While warlike genius points to trophies won,
“To cars amid triumphal pæans roll'd:
“His audience every gesture, every tone
“Applaud, and fondly deem the fame of Greece their own.
“From every cordial feature beaming truth
“On friends and stranger-guests that round recline,
“Observe the grandsire of the generous youth;
“His seat, the remnant of a broken shrine:
“There, as their eyes with eager pleasure shine,
“Two lovely boys, beside the sculptur'd base,
“Grasp the stone-clusters of a mimic vine;
“Or ape their brother's oratorial grace,
“Or, with their playful hands, the old man's feet embrace.
“On friends and stranger-guests that round recline,
“Observe the grandsire of the generous youth;
“His seat, the remnant of a broken shrine:
“There, as their eyes with eager pleasure shine,
“Two lovely boys, beside the sculptur'd base,
“Grasp the stone-clusters of a mimic vine;
“Or ape their brother's oratorial grace,
“Or, with their playful hands, the old man's feet embrace.
50
“See, to the chief attacht, a Melian friend;
“For whom Araxes (self-condemn'd to earn
“His bitter bread, where Melos' grottoes bend
“In many a maze, and press his couch of fern)
“Would oft the Gallic corsairs watch, and burn
“With rage, to disappoint their midnight prow;
“Thence unperceiv'd, tho' station'd to discern
“Their inroads, from his ambush deal the blow,
“And, for his Alcon's sake, repel the insidious foe.
“For whom Araxes (self-condemn'd to earn
“His bitter bread, where Melos' grottoes bend
“In many a maze, and press his couch of fern)
“Would oft the Gallic corsairs watch, and burn
“With rage, to disappoint their midnight prow;
“Thence unperceiv'd, tho' station'd to discern
“Their inroads, from his ambush deal the blow,
“And, for his Alcon's sake, repel the insidious foe.
“There, too, from Naxos, note a stranger guest:
“A heart of anguish his dim'd eyes betray:
“He mourns a nymph, whose vows his soul possess'd,
“Snatcht, sudden, from his clasping arms away,
“And doom'd in sighs to waste her youthful day:
“Yet, tho' the walls of lust the maid immure,
“He deems her spotless as the blush of May;
“And views, in virgin innocence secure,
“His Arne brave the threat, and spurn the gaudy lure.
“A heart of anguish his dim'd eyes betray:
“He mourns a nymph, whose vows his soul possess'd,
“Snatcht, sudden, from his clasping arms away,
“And doom'd in sighs to waste her youthful day:
“Yet, tho' the walls of lust the maid immure,
“He deems her spotless as the blush of May;
“And views, in virgin innocence secure,
“His Arne brave the threat, and spurn the gaudy lure.
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“And next observe that Cephalenian Greek
“Who starts at every still emphatic pause,
“Yet self-absorbt, scarce hears Araxes speak:
“Spoil'd by the wretches, who belye the cause
“Of heaven-descended freedom, from the jaws
“Of fate, the Cephalenian chieftain fled.
‘Miscreants (he mutters) spare your vain applause,
‘Nor deck with cenotaphs the Grecian dead!—
‘Miscreants! who rob their sons by wolfish rapine led!
“Who starts at every still emphatic pause,
“Yet self-absorbt, scarce hears Araxes speak:
“Spoil'd by the wretches, who belye the cause
“Of heaven-descended freedom, from the jaws
“Of fate, the Cephalenian chieftain fled.
‘Miscreants (he mutters) spare your vain applause,
‘Nor deck with cenotaphs the Grecian dead!—
‘Miscreants! who rob their sons by wolfish rapine led!
“See the young orator now seize the lyre;
“And, as he chaunts the song, from every string
“Awake with volant hand the living fire
“That thrills each bosom with a rapturous sting;
“Now, ceasing, to his neighbour of the ring
“Resign the mastery o'er extatic sound:
“And lo! the moments fly on rapid wing,
“While, as spontaneous numbers circle round,
“Their hearts, or young or old, with emulation bound.
“And, as he chaunts the song, from every string
“Awake with volant hand the living fire
“That thrills each bosom with a rapturous sting;
“Now, ceasing, to his neighbour of the ring
“Resign the mastery o'er extatic sound:
“And lo! the moments fly on rapid wing,
“While, as spontaneous numbers circle round,
“Their hearts, or young or old, with emulation bound.
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“Yet, as each differing passion sways the soul,
“Its music swells, or melts upon the ear:
“Indignant, as the strains of vengeance roll,
“The Cephalenian chills the chiefs with fear—
“Sullen and deep—They shudder, as they hear!
“And hark! the Naxian, in a burst of sighs,
“Steals o'er the strings his measures soft and clear;
“Now bids the tone of quick resentment rise,
“Now, languishing again, in love and pity dies!
“Its music swells, or melts upon the ear:
“Indignant, as the strains of vengeance roll,
“The Cephalenian chills the chiefs with fear—
“Sullen and deep—They shudder, as they hear!
“And hark! the Naxian, in a burst of sighs,
“Steals o'er the strings his measures soft and clear;
“Now bids the tone of quick resentment rise,
“Now, languishing again, in love and pity dies!
“We shift the scene. Behold a radiance streams,
“As the roof opens, o'er yon tap'stried room:
“Lo a fair groupe conspicuous in the beams!
“Their silver distaffs glitter thro' the dome.
“Unveil'd the shadowy locks, the virgin bloom,
“Uncheckt the pantings of the living snow,
“They laugh, they languish o'er the fervid loom.
“What tho' their moments in seclusion flow?
“Pure from profaner eyes, the brightest florets blow.
“As the roof opens, o'er yon tap'stried room:
“Lo a fair groupe conspicuous in the beams!
“Their silver distaffs glitter thro' the dome.
“Unveil'd the shadowy locks, the virgin bloom,
“Uncheckt the pantings of the living snow,
“They laugh, they languish o'er the fervid loom.
“What tho' their moments in seclusion flow?
“Pure from profaner eyes, the brightest florets blow.
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“Yet see that form distinguisht from the rest—
“Fair Eucharis, Araxes' destin'd bride:
“By images of some sweet union blest,
“She lifts her fine blue eyes with conscious pride:
“And, smiling on her maiden train beside,
“A gold wrought robe, a broider'd veil displays;
“And, from smooth tongues as soft applauses slide,
“With livelier joy each finisht work surveys,
“Tho' from another tongue she sighs for softer praise.”
“Fair Eucharis, Araxes' destin'd bride:
“By images of some sweet union blest,
“She lifts her fine blue eyes with conscious pride:
“And, smiling on her maiden train beside,
“A gold wrought robe, a broider'd veil displays;
“And, from smooth tongues as soft applauses slide,
“With livelier joy each finisht work surveys,
“Tho' from another tongue she sighs for softer praise.”
In a swift cloud enfolded (as he spoke)
The slope, the waving hillpines swam from sight;
When the same village thro' the darkness broke,
And, its long street from numerous torches bright,
A grand procession mark'd some nuptial rite;
And, as gay nymphs their amorous mazes wove,
The matrons view'd the bride with fond delight—
“Ripe for the blisses of the Paphian grove—
“Full soon (they said and sigh'd) to pour her soul in love!”
The slope, the waving hillpines swam from sight;
When the same village thro' the darkness broke,
And, its long street from numerous torches bright,
A grand procession mark'd some nuptial rite;
And, as gay nymphs their amorous mazes wove,
The matrons view'd the bride with fond delight—
“Ripe for the blisses of the Paphian grove—
“Full soon (they said and sigh'd) to pour her soul in love!”
54
'Twas Eucharis. Tho' fair her maidens shone,
And to soft measures mystic dances led,
Yet, kindling at each step, their beauties won
Vain incense. Eucharis around her shed
Peculiar glory. To the bridal bed
Mov'd her fine figure, scarce of mortal mould:
Shadowing the virgin's timid blushes, spread
The broider'd veil in many a rosy fold,
And a rich ceinture brac'd the robe in-wrought with gold.
And to soft measures mystic dances led,
Yet, kindling at each step, their beauties won
Vain incense. Eucharis around her shed
Peculiar glory. To the bridal bed
Mov'd her fine figure, scarce of mortal mould:
Shadowing the virgin's timid blushes, spread
The broider'd veil in many a rosy fold,
And a rich ceinture brac'd the robe in-wrought with gold.
And burn'd Araxes with a bridegroom's haste
To loosen that rich ceinture? Sudden flash'd
High brandisht blades around her; and her waist
Gaunt ruffians grasp'd: Conflicting sabres clash'd;
And lo! in dust the feeble grandsire dasht,
And hurried by his hoary beard along:
In vain his teeth the indignant hero gnash'd:
The Gauls, alas! sworn foes to nuptial song,
Bore off the swooning bride, and all the choral throng.
To loosen that rich ceinture? Sudden flash'd
High brandisht blades around her; and her waist
Gaunt ruffians grasp'd: Conflicting sabres clash'd;
And lo! in dust the feeble grandsire dasht,
And hurried by his hoary beard along:
In vain his teeth the indignant hero gnash'd:
The Gauls, alas! sworn foes to nuptial song,
Bore off the swooning bride, and all the choral throng.
55
CANTO THE THIRD.
“Then (heaving a deep sigh, the bard exclaim'd)
“Then, what avails the high transmitted soul?
“What, that along the track where glory flam'd
“It bids its vengeance on barbarians roll,
“Red as the thunder that o'erwhelms the pole?
“Ah! what avails the ambition of the brave;
“When, as insulting despots deal the dole
“Of destiny, the hero sinks, a slave,
“And, for a car, surveys no visionary grave?
“Then, what avails the high transmitted soul?
“What, that along the track where glory flam'd
“It bids its vengeance on barbarians roll,
“Red as the thunder that o'erwhelms the pole?
“Ah! what avails the ambition of the brave;
“When, as insulting despots deal the dole
“Of destiny, the hero sinks, a slave,
“And, for a car, surveys no visionary grave?
“Ah! what avails it, that a lonely few
“Scatter'd and lorn, in each inglorious grove,
“The fleeting shadows of their sires pursue?
“What, that amid sepulchral wastes they rove,
“Couch the mock lance, and burn with patriot love,
“Yet dare not cherish the domestic flame?
“Ah! what avails it, when they sadly prove
“How vain, amid their rifled homes, the name
“Of husband, or of sire, to heed their country's fame!”
“Scatter'd and lorn, in each inglorious grove,
“The fleeting shadows of their sires pursue?
“What, that amid sepulchral wastes they rove,
“Couch the mock lance, and burn with patriot love,
“Yet dare not cherish the domestic flame?
“Ah! what avails it, when they sadly prove
“How vain, amid their rifled homes, the name
“Of husband, or of sire, to heed their country's fame!”
56
Scarce had he spoke, when whirl'd thro' billowy clouds,
He rose, nor ceas'd the involuntary flight,
Till from the topmost peak that Athos shrouds
Now in drear snows, now veils with amber-light,
He view'd all Greece outstretcht before his sight,
And the blue sea with clustering isles embost,
While, here, bold crags appear'd, and caverns white,
And spiry groves, and mountains hoar with frost,
There, gleam'd receding cliffs in purple azure lost.
He rose, nor ceas'd the involuntary flight,
Till from the topmost peak that Athos shrouds
Now in drear snows, now veils with amber-light,
He view'd all Greece outstretcht before his sight,
And the blue sea with clustering isles embost,
While, here, bold crags appear'd, and caverns white,
And spiry groves, and mountains hoar with frost,
There, gleam'd receding cliffs in purple azure lost.
Slow, from each island, with gigantic march,
Pass'd the dun vapors: and the elysian sky
Stream'd o'er the prospect from a wider arch,
Till, laughing all the distant isles drew nigh;
When, now, the bard beheld with wondering eye
Where Athos bids his evening-shadow rest;
And e'en the Ionian billows sparkling high
Where Ithaca projects its rocky crest,
Or airs ambrosial melt o'er Zante's luxurious breast.
Pass'd the dun vapors: and the elysian sky
Stream'd o'er the prospect from a wider arch,
Till, laughing all the distant isles drew nigh;
When, now, the bard beheld with wondering eye
Where Athos bids his evening-shadow rest;
And e'en the Ionian billows sparkling high
Where Ithaca projects its rocky crest,
Or airs ambrosial melt o'er Zante's luxurious breast.
57
Such was the scene.—when bending o'er the expanse
Of waves, the woods of Chios lash'd the tide;
As, from her eastern shore, the hosts of France
Wound in deep phalanx up a mountain side;
And with his little band by love allied
The summit of the rock Araxes trod;
While, shrieking from amidst the foe, his bride
With pale uplifted eyes implor'd her god,
And the fell troop with lust and execration glow'd.
Of waves, the woods of Chios lash'd the tide;
As, from her eastern shore, the hosts of France
Wound in deep phalanx up a mountain side;
And with his little band by love allied
The summit of the rock Araxes trod;
While, shrieking from amidst the foe, his bride
With pale uplifted eyes implor'd her god,
And the fell troop with lust and execration glow'd.
“There (as his helmet-plumes Araxes shook)
“There, from those isles (the hero seem'd to say)
“Rais'd by my voice, as winter swells the brook,
“There gathering armies bend their vengeful way.”
Choakt in mid-utterance was the rude essay
To speak, as, glancing on his frantic fair,
In her sunk eyes he saw the faded ray,
Her torn veil fluttering—her dishevel'd hair,
And trembling hands that beat her bosom in despair.
“There, from those isles (the hero seem'd to say)
“Rais'd by my voice, as winter swells the brook,
“There gathering armies bend their vengeful way.”
Choakt in mid-utterance was the rude essay
To speak, as, glancing on his frantic fair,
In her sunk eyes he saw the faded ray,
Her torn veil fluttering—her dishevel'd hair,
And trembling hands that beat her bosom in despair.
58
Proud Melos triumph'd in the hostile clang,
Where Alcon had pour'd forth the impassion'd strain;
While to her haughty lords her hollows rang
Resounding with abortive echoes, vain
As when the sword of Nicias smote the plain.
Lo, where her mastics bloom, her caverns steam,
The champion to his friend devotes the slain;
And, as strewn corses gorge the smoaking stream,
His buckler lightens round, to mock the noon-day beam.
Where Alcon had pour'd forth the impassion'd strain;
While to her haughty lords her hollows rang
Resounding with abortive echoes, vain
As when the sword of Nicias smote the plain.
Lo, where her mastics bloom, her caverns steam,
The champion to his friend devotes the slain;
And, as strewn corses gorge the smoaking stream,
His buckler lightens round, to mock the noon-day beam.
Nor he, who sung sore-ravisht from his arms—
Who sung to pity's lute the Naxian maid,
Breath'd his fond passion o'er her pictur'd charms,
Or told his sorrows to the citron shade.
Already, had he summon'd to his aid
His comrade Greeks, and, fiercest of the van,
Plung'd in the crouching Gaul his angry blade,
And seiz'd the fortress where the fight began,
As crowds with headlong haste from off the ramparts ran.
Who sung to pity's lute the Naxian maid,
Breath'd his fond passion o'er her pictur'd charms,
Or told his sorrows to the citron shade.
Already, had he summon'd to his aid
His comrade Greeks, and, fiercest of the van,
Plung'd in the crouching Gaul his angry blade,
And seiz'd the fortress where the fight began,
As crowds with headlong haste from off the ramparts ran.
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Amid the havoc of infuriate lust
Where Cephalenia rued the Gallic horde;
Already to the vows of vengeance just,
Rag'd o'er the sea-beat rocks her Grecian lord:
Already, his wild arm with carnage gor'd,
Each mimic ensign by the roots had wrench'd:
Already, as he wav'd his savior-sword,
His squadrons had along the coast entrench'd,
And with the lives of Gauls the thirsting vallies drench'd.
Where Cephalenia rued the Gallic horde;
Already to the vows of vengeance just,
Rag'd o'er the sea-beat rocks her Grecian lord:
Already, his wild arm with carnage gor'd,
Each mimic ensign by the roots had wrench'd:
Already, as he wav'd his savior-sword,
His squadrons had along the coast entrench'd,
And with the lives of Gauls the thirsting vallies drench'd.
And now, as wheels the falcon round its nest
The snake uncoil'd o'er crags ascending slow,
Araxes, ranging still the mountain-crest,
Look'd down upon the volumes of the foe,
And caught the threatening summons from below
That bade him strait reclaim the rebel race,
Or shudder at a spectacle of woe,
His grandsire, brethren slain before his face—
His beauteous bride consign'd to many a rude embrace.
The snake uncoil'd o'er crags ascending slow,
Araxes, ranging still the mountain-crest,
Look'd down upon the volumes of the foe,
And caught the threatening summons from below
That bade him strait reclaim the rebel race,
Or shudder at a spectacle of woe,
His grandsire, brethren slain before his face—
His beauteous bride consign'd to many a rude embrace.
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Lo, the steel dropping on his grandsire's head
The minute-drops of murder, midst a host
Whose rage is with the pangs of misery fed!
And on their bristling halberts well-nigh tost
His little trembling brethren! and the boast
Of Chios' vallies, like the lily crusht—
Condemn'd to mourn her virgin honors lost!
When the fierce Greeks, by all the furies flusht,
Down from the mountain-top, to meet a myriad, rush'd.
The minute-drops of murder, midst a host
Whose rage is with the pangs of misery fed!
And on their bristling halberts well-nigh tost
His little trembling brethren! and the boast
Of Chios' vallies, like the lily crusht—
Condemn'd to mourn her virgin honors lost!
When the fierce Greeks, by all the furies flusht,
Down from the mountain-top, to meet a myriad, rush'd.
Dire was the fray; while throngs, to clasp the wave,
Araxes hurried from the impending steep:
But what avail'd a daring few, to brave
Troops that o'erspread the rock, and fill'd the sweep
Of the wide valley, wedg'd in phalanx deep?
Still, the ranks opening where he ran, with fear
Shrunk back, and fell in many a mingled heap!
Yet hark! confusion in the Gallic rear—
Yet hark! the British trump assails each startled ear!
Araxes hurried from the impending steep:
But what avail'd a daring few, to brave
Troops that o'erspread the rock, and fill'd the sweep
Of the wide valley, wedg'd in phalanx deep?
Still, the ranks opening where he ran, with fear
Shrunk back, and fell in many a mingled heap!
Yet hark! confusion in the Gallic rear—
Yet hark! the British trump assails each startled ear!
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“See, (said the Genius) see, triumphant ride
“Yon lordly ships along the Ionian shores—
“See, the same pendants shade the Egean tide!
“And o'er the gladden'd isles as freedom pours
“Her sons, thro' Greece the British thunder roars!
“From Cephalenia flies the robber-train:
“And, as the soul of Grecian battle soars,
“Lo! Naxos tramples on her despots slain,
“And sun-clad Chios greets the mistress of the main.
“Yon lordly ships along the Ionian shores—
“See, the same pendants shade the Egean tide!
“And o'er the gladden'd isles as freedom pours
“Her sons, thro' Greece the British thunder roars!
“From Cephalenia flies the robber-train:
“And, as the soul of Grecian battle soars,
“Lo! Naxos tramples on her despots slain,
“And sun-clad Chios greets the mistress of the main.
“Yes! thro' a sanguine cloud where demons broke,
“Bath'd in pure heaven the cross o'er Chios flows!
“And yonder groupe, beside the reeking rock,
“Araxes' rescued family, repose
“In tremulous hope. The Britons round them close,
“And kindly listen to the fair-one's tale,
“As o'er her form disorder'd beauty glows!
“And hark, as aweful echoes rend the dale,
“Prince of the Grecian isles, their shouts Araxes hail!”
“Bath'd in pure heaven the cross o'er Chios flows!
“And yonder groupe, beside the reeking rock,
“Araxes' rescued family, repose
“In tremulous hope. The Britons round them close,
“And kindly listen to the fair-one's tale,
“As o'er her form disorder'd beauty glows!
“And hark, as aweful echoes rend the dale,
“Prince of the Grecian isles, their shouts Araxes hail!”
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