Poems, on sacred and other subjects and songs, humorous and sentimental: By the late William Watt. Third edition of the songs only--with additional songs |
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The Battle of Issus,
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 | Poems, on sacred and other subjects |  |
The Battle of Issus,
Fought between ALEXANDER THE GREAT and DARIUS, King of Persia.
I.
Ambition! whence thy resting place?
Or hast thou none e'er found?
Alas! thy every-stinging case
Home, peace, and love have drown'd:
Thou canst not see, nor canst thou hear,
The name superior or compeer,
But instant swells thy envious soul
To sink him under thy control;
Though, to accomplish thy desire,
Whole cities blaze in vengeful fire;
Though thousands draw their latest breath
Upon the bloody field of death;
Though Pity, bathed in silent tears,
The scream of ravish'd maidens hears;
All must obey thy dire command,
Though desolation sweep the land.
Or hast thou none e'er found?
Alas! thy every-stinging case
Home, peace, and love have drown'd:
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The name superior or compeer,
But instant swells thy envious soul
To sink him under thy control;
Though, to accomplish thy desire,
Whole cities blaze in vengeful fire;
Though thousands draw their latest breath
Upon the bloody field of death;
Though Pity, bathed in silent tears,
The scream of ravish'd maidens hears;
All must obey thy dire command,
Though desolation sweep the land.
Great Philip's conquest-loving son
Did court thy meteor glare,
Till he the Eastern world had won,
By blood, and toil, and care:
Thus, great in fame and grandeur grown,
A vanquish'd world at will his own;
Puff'd up, no longer he'll confess
He sprung was from the mortal class—
But doth assume the sovereign nod,
And doth proclaim himself a god;
Until the vine's subduing power
Did wheel around the fatal hour
Which caused him enter death's dark portal,
And claim his friendship with the mortal;
Fate's barbed dagger struck the blow,
And laid him like his fellows low.
Did court thy meteor glare,
Till he the Eastern world had won,
By blood, and toil, and care:
Thus, great in fame and grandeur grown,
A vanquish'd world at will his own;
Puff'd up, no longer he'll confess
He sprung was from the mortal class—
But doth assume the sovereign nod,
And doth proclaim himself a god;
Until the vine's subduing power
Did wheel around the fatal hour
Which caused him enter death's dark portal,
And claim his friendship with the mortal;
Fate's barbed dagger struck the blow,
And laid him like his fellows low.
Say, muse! for thou alone canst spy,
With thy bright retrospective eye,
The lapse of ages past—
Say, what eventful deeds were done,
That day, by Philip's martial son;
What numbers breathed their last.
Thy wings expand, and waft me o'er
The gulph of ages gone;
Oh bear me to Cilicia's shore,
Nor leave me there alone:
To me the battle scene unfold
Which fought was in the days of old—
The feats of valour there perform'd,
The hapless victims how deform'd,
The warriors' face, indignant burning,
Repell'd by force, with hope returning!
The din of arms, the battle shout,
The victor's fire, the conquer'd's rout!
And, when I've view'd this scene of yore,
Return me to my native shore,
With peace and freedom sweet to dwell,
Far from the noisy battle's swell.
With thy bright retrospective eye,
The lapse of ages past—
Say, what eventful deeds were done,
That day, by Philip's martial son;
What numbers breathed their last.
Thy wings expand, and waft me o'er
The gulph of ages gone;
Oh bear me to Cilicia's shore,
Nor leave me there alone:
To me the battle scene unfold
Which fought was in the days of old—
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The hapless victims how deform'd,
The warriors' face, indignant burning,
Repell'd by force, with hope returning!
The din of arms, the battle shout,
The victor's fire, the conquer'd's rout!
And, when I've view'd this scene of yore,
Return me to my native shore,
With peace and freedom sweet to dwell,
Far from the noisy battle's swell.
Loth rose the low November sun,
To gild the dark horizon;
The sight that day he sought to shun
Behind the vapours, floating dun;
A sight so dire he never cast his eyes on!
He sought it to evade in vain,
For quickly clear'd the dewy plain,
And, full before his potent ray,
The battle ranks appear'd that day:
He heard the war clang sounding high,
The wounded groan, the conquer'd sigh!
He saw the Persians backward reel
Before the glare of Grecian steel,
And, ere he kiss'd the shades of night,
The Persian army put to flight!
To gild the dark horizon;
The sight that day he sought to shun
Behind the vapours, floating dun;
A sight so dire he never cast his eyes on!
He sought it to evade in vain,
For quickly clear'd the dewy plain,
And, full before his potent ray,
The battle ranks appear'd that day:
He heard the war clang sounding high,
The wounded groan, the conquer'd sigh!
He saw the Persians backward reel
Before the glare of Grecian steel,
And, ere he kiss'd the shades of night,
The Persian army put to flight!
II.
In front appears great Alexander,
The far-famed Grecian commander,
On whose brow sat deliberation
In this momentous situation;
Cool, yet intrepid, was his mien;
He first in danger still was seen;
Undaunted views the Persian host
While others judged the cause was lost.
Ere yet the gallant bands engage,
To fire each mind with martial rage,
He thus address'd his daring few,
Who were arranged in order due:—
The far-famed Grecian commander,
On whose brow sat deliberation
In this momentous situation;
Cool, yet intrepid, was his mien;
He first in danger still was seen;
Undaunted views the Persian host
While others judged the cause was lost.
Ere yet the gallant bands engage,
To fire each mind with martial rage,
He thus address'd his daring few,
Who were arranged in order due:—
“Heroes! you see the time draws nigh
To be enslaved, or nobly die
Beneath the conq'ring foe!
Each hold, with death grasp, sword or spear,
Nor flinch a foot, in van or rear,
For all their glaring show!
Though on they move, in phalanx deep,
Sheer from the plain our files to sweep,
Withstand the shock quite undismay'd;
For lance or spear be none afraid;
Their weak effeminated front
Will yield, when once it feels your brunt;
And then, into confusion driven,
The vict'ry sure to us is given.
Remember how—in days of yore,
What hate they to our fathers bore,
When Xerxes led his countless band
To spread destruction o'er our land—
Our valiant sires them vanquish'd quite,
And put the cumbrous horde to flight.
Spoil for the spoiler there you see,
If you on plunder bent should be;
Revenge for those whose fathers fled
Before their power, or nobly bled:
Remember, that in no community
Strength lies in numbers, but in unity.
The day is ours, I see it, won
Before the setting of the sun;
Th' immortal hills our stable flanks;
‘Revenge or death’ rings through our ranks!
Our hearts are true, our cause is just,
And Persia yield before us must!”
To be enslaved, or nobly die
Beneath the conq'ring foe!
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Nor flinch a foot, in van or rear,
For all their glaring show!
Though on they move, in phalanx deep,
Sheer from the plain our files to sweep,
Withstand the shock quite undismay'd;
For lance or spear be none afraid;
Their weak effeminated front
Will yield, when once it feels your brunt;
And then, into confusion driven,
The vict'ry sure to us is given.
Remember how—in days of yore,
What hate they to our fathers bore,
When Xerxes led his countless band
To spread destruction o'er our land—
Our valiant sires them vanquish'd quite,
And put the cumbrous horde to flight.
Spoil for the spoiler there you see,
If you on plunder bent should be;
Revenge for those whose fathers fled
Before their power, or nobly bled:
Remember, that in no community
Strength lies in numbers, but in unity.
The day is ours, I see it, won
Before the setting of the sun;
Th' immortal hills our stable flanks;
‘Revenge or death’ rings through our ranks!
Our hearts are true, our cause is just,
And Persia yield before us must!”
III.
While thus the Grecian chief address'd
His dauntless warlike band,
Warm glow'd with rage each hero's breast:
Like rocks, unmoved they stand.
His dauntless warlike band,
Warm glow'd with rage each hero's breast:
Like rocks, unmoved they stand.
The Persian golden banner's glare
In vain doth gild the plain;
Or, swelling through the ambient air,
Loud rings their battle strain.
In vain doth gild the plain;
Or, swelling through the ambient air,
Loud rings their battle strain.
Now shone the sun with argent beam,
And, glitt'ring in his rays, appears
Upon the field, with furbish'd gleam,
Six hundred thousand swords and spears.
And, glitt'ring in his rays, appears
Upon the field, with furbish'd gleam,
Six hundred thousand swords and spears.
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To music sweet they moved along,
Which, echo'd through th' etherial realm,
Join'd with the shout and battle song,
Threat'ning the Grecian host to 'whelm.
Which, echo'd through th' etherial realm,
Join'd with the shout and battle song,
Threat'ning the Grecian host to 'whelm.
But, ah! how oft is boasting quash'd!
And meets a dire repulsive shock;
Like ocean's surge, to bubbles dash'd
Against the stubborn flinty rock!
And meets a dire repulsive shock;
Like ocean's surge, to bubbles dash'd
Against the stubborn flinty rock!
IV.
Darius, quite impatient grown,
Impetuous, led his army on,
In glitt'ring arms of gold;
Far follow'd a protracted train,
Which 'lumined round all Issus' plain,
As they to battle roll'd:
Impetuous, led his army on,
In glitt'ring arms of gold;
Far follow'd a protracted train,
Which 'lumined round all Issus' plain,
As they to battle roll'd:
Their gorgeous show and ardent mien
Might shake the coward's heart,
But Macedonia's sons, I ween,
Fear'd not their glare nor art.
Might shake the coward's heart,
But Macedonia's sons, I ween,
Fear'd not their glare nor art.
Now, van to van, the signal given,
As gleams the fatal light of heaven,
So darts the flash of arms!
As thunder 'mong the hills doth rattle,
So rung the clangour of the battle,
And echo's ear alarms!
As gleams the fatal light of heaven,
So darts the flash of arms!
As thunder 'mong the hills doth rattle,
So rung the clangour of the battle,
And echo's ear alarms!
In clouds th' volleying javelins fly,
And grate on helm and shield,
And oft, death-fraught, make heroes lie
Upon the blood-stain'd field.
And grate on helm and shield,
And oft, death-fraught, make heroes lie
Upon the blood-stain'd field.
Dire was the conflict of the day,
Till Persia's hope-flush'd front gave way,
And back in haste recoil'd;
Then rose aloud the Grecian shout,
“They fly! they fly! they're put to rout!
Their utmost effort 's foil'd.”
Till Persia's hope-flush'd front gave way,
And back in haste recoil'd;
Then rose aloud the Grecian shout,
“They fly! they fly! they're put to rout!
Their utmost effort 's foil'd.”
Hark! hark! the hideous jarring roar
Which runs throughout the host;
The shrieks of thousands, bathed in gore,
On point of sabres toss'd!
Which runs throughout the host;
The shrieks of thousands, bathed in gore,
On point of sabres toss'd!
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Poor Persia's monarch push'd along
Throughout the terror-smitten throng,
Unmindful of their fate;
To Ecbatana safe he fled,
While for his cause an army bled—
Heart-thrilling to relate!
Throughout the terror-smitten throng,
Unmindful of their fate;
To Ecbatana safe he fled,
While for his cause an army bled—
Heart-thrilling to relate!
A sumptuous spoil lies now exposed
At Alexander's will;
Such riches never Greece disclosed,
The envious breast to fill.
At Alexander's will;
Such riches never Greece disclosed,
The envious breast to fill.
But, mark! the mild Pellean youth
Here stray'd not from the path of truth,
Nor brake stern virtue's law;
By no unruly passion driven,
He acted as if conscious heaven
His conduct's chart did draw:
Here stray'd not from the path of truth,
Nor brake stern virtue's law;
By no unruly passion driven,
He acted as if conscious heaven
His conduct's chart did draw:
And had he still this path pursued
Through all his after life,
With glory had his steps been strew'd,
And shunn'd much toil and strife.
Through all his after life,
With glory had his steps been strew'd,
And shunn'd much toil and strife.
The captive ladies, pale with fear,
Heaved many a sigh, dropp'd many a tear,
For this, their hapless lot;
But, when the conq'ror's conduct shone
With chaste protection, all anon
The dread of harm forgot.
Heaved many a sigh, dropp'd many a tear,
For this, their hapless lot;
But, when the conq'ror's conduct shone
With chaste protection, all anon
The dread of harm forgot.
V.
The combat's o'er at set of sun,And now, the night's cold air to shun,
The weary Greeks retire to tent,
After a day in bloodshed spent.
Now murky night o'erspreads the plain,
Where wounded lie among the slain;
Across the field wild groans are driven
Within the bleaky blast of heaven;
Half dead half living many lie,
Who heave the deep unheeded sigh,
And writhe beneath the rankling smart
Of death's chill dagger in their heart!
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VI.
The full-orb'd moon rose in the east,
And shone with golden gleam;
The wolf, voracious, hied to feast
Beneath her flaunting beam;
Red glared the field in Luna's light,
And show'd a drear heart-rending sight;
Harsh, o'er the plain, the live-long night
Was heard the vulture's scream!
And shone with golden gleam;
The wolf, voracious, hied to feast
Beneath her flaunting beam;
Red glared the field in Luna's light,
And show'd a drear heart-rending sight;
Harsh, o'er the plain, the live-long night
Was heard the vulture's scream!
Soft Pity saw th' inhuman scene,
And buried the ill-fated slain;
Yet roves the wild hyena, growling,
Among the trenches nightly prowling;
And bloody wolf, carniv'rous rover,
Likes o'er the gory field to hover.
And buried the ill-fated slain;
Yet roves the wild hyena, growling,
Among the trenches nightly prowling;
And bloody wolf, carniv'rous rover,
Likes o'er the gory field to hover.
VII.
Return, return! oh potent sun!
And bring sweet spring again
To clothe with grass the plain,
That swains the sight of blood may shun.
And bring sweet spring again
To clothe with grass the plain,
That swains the sight of blood may shun.
I know yet o'er the fallen brave
The rank green grass shall gaily wave;
That flowers shall deck the verdant mead,
Where many a daring heart did bleed;
That lambs shall frisk upon the mound
That wraps the mould'ring heroes round;
And, where once rung the battle-swell,
In peace, the husbandman shall dwell.
The rank green grass shall gaily wave;
That flowers shall deck the verdant mead,
Where many a daring heart did bleed;
That lambs shall frisk upon the mound
That wraps the mould'ring heroes round;
And, where once rung the battle-swell,
In peace, the husbandman shall dwell.
VIII.
No more, sweet Muse, o'er Asian shores
With thee I long to wander;
Great Persia now, and all her stores,
Belong to Alexander.
With thee I long to wander;
Great Persia now, and all her stores,
Belong to Alexander.
I envy not such hard-earn'd treasure,
Nor yet to forfeit life for pleasure;
But grant me Peace, and I'll consent
With Poverty to live content.
Let kings for crowns, indignant, war;
Let merchants search for wealth afar;
Let statesmen wrangle and debate;
Give titles to the rich and great;
For me, no other boon I crave,
While I on earth a being have,
But freedom from internal strife—
A competence to keep in life,—
The rest I have from nature free,
Else, Fancy, they belong to thee;
Thy roamings, amidst daily toil,
Can summer's longest day beguile:
Can, while the sun doth vertic beam,
Me stretch beside the cooling stream;
Or, while the world lies clad in snow,
Recall can July's genial glow;
Can change the harsh ear-grating drum
To nurse's sleep-invoking hum;
The thunder rolling through the sky
Sweet as the infant's lullaby!
Nor yet to forfeit life for pleasure;
But grant me Peace, and I'll consent
With Poverty to live content.
Let kings for crowns, indignant, war;
Let merchants search for wealth afar;
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Give titles to the rich and great;
For me, no other boon I crave,
While I on earth a being have,
But freedom from internal strife—
A competence to keep in life,—
The rest I have from nature free,
Else, Fancy, they belong to thee;
Thy roamings, amidst daily toil,
Can summer's longest day beguile:
Can, while the sun doth vertic beam,
Me stretch beside the cooling stream;
Or, while the world lies clad in snow,
Recall can July's genial glow;
Can change the harsh ear-grating drum
To nurse's sleep-invoking hum;
The thunder rolling through the sky
Sweet as the infant's lullaby!
Let envy throw her barbed shafts,
To gain the field of fame,
Give me but fancy's halcyon draughts,
Though none should know my name.
To gain the field of fame,
Give me but fancy's halcyon draughts,
Though none should know my name.
| Poems, on sacred and other subjects | |