Leonidas: a poem.

Table of contents

- [titlepage]

- THE PREFACE.

- BOOK I.

- LEONIDAS. BOOK II.

- LEONIDAS. BOOK III.

- LEONIDAS. BOOK IV.

- LEONIDAS. BOOK V.

- LEONIDAS. BOOK VI.

- LEONIDAS. BOOK VII.

- LEONIDAS. BOOK VIII.

- LEONIDAS. BOOK IX.

- ERRATA.

LEONIDAS.

LEONIDAS, A POEM.

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PIND. OLYMP. OD. 1.

LONDON: Printed for R. DODSLEY, at Tully's Head in Pallmall. M.DCC.XXXVII.

THE PREFACE.

TO illustrate the following poem, to vindicate the subject from the censure of improbability, and to shew by the concurring evidence of the best historians, that such disinterested public virtue did once exist, I have thought, it would not be improper to prefix the subsequent narration.

WHILE Darius, the father of Xerxes, was yet on the throne of Persia, Cleomenes and Demaratus were kings in Lacedaemon, both descended from Hercules. Demaratus was unfortunately expos'd by an uncertain rumour, which render'd his legitimacy suspected, to the malice and treachery of his colleague, who had conceiv'd a personal resentment against him; for Cleomenes taking advantage of this report, persuaded the Spartans to examine into the birth of Demaratus, and refer the difficulty to the oracle of Delphi; and was assisted in his perfidious designs by a near relation of Demaratus, nam'd Leotychides, who aspir'd to succeed him in his dignity. Cleomenes found means to corrupt the priestess of Delphi, who declar'd Demaratus not legitimate. Thus by the base practices of his colleague Cleomenes, and his kinsman Leotychides, Demaratus was expell'd from his office of king in the commonwealth, after having frequently signaliz'd his valour in its service. He went into voluntary banishment, and retiring to Asia was there protected by Darius; while Leotychides succeeded to the regal authority in Sparta. Upon the death of Cleomenes Leonidas was made king, who rul'd in conjunction with this Leotychides, when Xerxes, the son of Darius, invaded Greece. The number of land and naval forces, which accompanied that monarch, together with the servants, women, and other usual attendants on the army of an eastern prince, amounted to upwards of five millions, as reported by Herodotus, who wrote within a few years after the event, and publicly recited his history at the Olympic games. In this general assembly not only from Greece itself, but from every part of the world, whereever a colony of Grecians was planted, had he greatly exceeded the truth, he must certainly have been detected, and censur'd by some among so great a multitude, and such a voluntary falshood must have entirely destroy'd that merit and authority, which have procur'd to Herodotus the veneration of all posterity, with the appellation of the father of history. On the first news of this attempt upon their liberty a convention was immediately held at the Isthmus of Corinth, compos'd of deputies from the several states of Greece, to consult on proper measures for the public safety. The Spartans also sent messengers to enquire of the oracle at Delphi into the event of the war, who return'd with an answer from the priestess of Apollo, that either a king descended from Hercules must die, or Lacedaemon would be entirely destroy'd. Leonidas immediately offer'd to sacrifice his life for the safety of Lacedaemon, and marching to Thermopylae possess'd himself of that important pass with three hundred of his countrymen; who with the forces of some other cities in the Peloponnesus, together with the Thebans, Thespians, and the troops of those states, which adjoin'd to Thermopylae, compos'd an army of near eight thousand men.

XERXES was now advanc'd as far, as Thessalia; when hearing, that a small body of Grecians was assembled at Thermopylae, with some Lacedaemonians at their head, and among the rest Leonidas, a descendant of Hercules, he dispatch'd a single horseman before to observe their numbers, and discover their designs. When this horseman approach'd, he could not take a view of the whole camp, which lay conceal'd behind a rampart formerly rais'd by the Phocians at the entrance of Thermopylae; so that his whole attention was employ'd on those, who were on guard before the wall, and who at that instant chanc'd to be the Lacedaemonians. Their manner and gestures greatly astonish'd the Persian; some were amusing themselves in gymnastic exercises; others were combing their hair; and all discover'd a total disregard of him, whom they suffer'd to depart without molestation, and report to Xerxes, what he had seen: which appearing to that prince quite ridiculous, he sent for Demaratus, who was with him in the camp, and requir'd him to explain this strange behaviour of his countrymen. Demaratus inform'd him, that it was a custom among the Spartans to comb down and adjust their hair, when they were determin'd to fight till the last extremity. Xerxes notwithstanding in the confidence of his power sent ambassadors to the Grecians to demand their arms, to bid them disperse, and become his friends and allies; which proposals being receiv'd with disdain, he commanded the Medes and Saces to seize on the Grecians, and bring them alive into his presence. These nations immediately attack'd the Grecians, and were soon repuls'd with great slaughter; fresh troops still succeeded, but with no better fortune than the first, being oppos'd to an enemy not only superiour in valour and resolution, but who had the advantage of discipline, and were furnish'd with better arms both offensive and defensive.

PLUTARCH in his Laconic apothegms reports, that the Persian king offer'd to invest Leonidas with the sovereignty of all Greece, provided he would join his arms to those of Persia. This offer was too considerable a condescension to have been made before a tryal of their force, and must therefore have been propos'd by Xerxes, after such a series of ill success, as might probably have depress'd the insolence of his temper; and it may be easily suppos'd, that the virtue of Leonidas was proof against any temptations of that nature. Whether this be a fact, or not, thus much is certain, that Xerxes was reduc'd to extreme difficulties by this resolute defence of Thermopylae; till he was extricated from his distress by a Malian nam'd Epialtes, who conducted twenty thousand of the Persian army into Greece through a pass, which lay higher up the country among the mountains of Oeta: whereas the passage at Thermopylae was situated on the sea-shore between the end of those mountains and the Malian bay. The defence of the upper pass had been committed to a thousand Phocians, who upon the first sight of the enemy inconsiderately abandon'd their station, and put themselves in array upon a neighbouring eminence; but the Persians wisely avoided an engagement, and with the utmost expedition march'd to Thermopylae. Leonidas no sooner receiv'd information, that the Barbarians had pass'd the mountains, but he commanded the allies to retreat, reserving the three hundred Spartans, and four hundred Thebans, whom, as they follow'd him with reluctance at first, he now compell'd to stay. But the Thespians, whose number amounted to seven hundred, would not be persuaded by Leonidas to forsake him. Their commander was Demophilus, and the most eminent amongst them for his valour was Dithyrambus. Among the Spartans the most conspicuous next to Leonidas was Dieneces, who being told, that the multitude of Persian arrows would obscure the sun, replied, the battle would then be in the shade. Two brothers named Alpheus and Maron are also recorded for their valour, and were Lacedaemonians. Megistias a priest, by birth an Acarnanian, refus'd to desert Leonidas, though intreated by him to consult his safety, and retire; but sent away his only son, and remain'd himself behind to die with the Lacedaemonians. Among the three hundred Spartans were two call'd Eurytus and Aristodemus, who being almost blind were dismiss'd by Leonidas. Of these Aristodemus return'd home; but Eurytus waited, till the Persians descended from the hills, and then commanding his slave to lead him among the combatants was slain with the rest of his countrymen.

HERODOTUS relates, that Leonidas drew up his men in the broadest part of Thermopylae; where, being surrounded by the Persians, they fell with great numbers of their enemies: but Plutarch, Diodorus Siculus, and others affirm, that the Grecians attack'd the very camp of Xerxes in the night. The action is thus describ'd by Diodorus. "The Grecians having now rejected all thoughts of safety, preferring glory to life, unanimously call'd on their general to lead them against the Persians, before they could be appris'd, that their friends had pass'd round the mountains. Leonidas embrac'd the occasion, which the ready zeal of his soldiers afforded, and commanded them forthwith to dine, as men, who were to sup in Elysium. Himself in consequence of this command took a repast, as the means to furnish strength for a long continuance, and to give perseverance in danger. After a short refreshment the Grecians were now prepar'd, and receiv'd orders to assail the enemies camp, to put all, they met, to the sword, and force a passage to the royal pavilion; when, form'd into one compact body with Leonidas himself at their head, they march'd against the Persians, and enter'd their camp at the dead of night. The Barbarians wholly unprepar'd, and blindly conjecturing, that their friends were defeated, and themselves attack'd by the united power of Greece, hurry together from their tents with the utmost disorder and consternation. Many were slain by Leonidas and his party, but much greater multitudes by their own troops, to whom in the midst of this blind confusion they were not distinguishable from enemies: for as night took away the power of discerning truely, and the tumult was spread universally over the camp, a prodigious slaughter must naturally ensue. The want of command, of a watch-word, and of confidence in themselves reduc'd the Persians to such a state of confusion, that they destroy'd each other without distinction. Had Xerxes continu'd in the royal pavilion, the Grecians without difficulty might have brought the war to a speedy conclusion by his death; but he at the beginning of the tumult betook himself to flight with the utmost precipitation; when the Grecians rushing into the tent, put to the sword most of those, who were left behind: then, while night lasted, they rang'd through the whole camp in diligent search of the tyrant. When morning appear'd, the Persians perceiving the true state of things, held the inconsiderable number of their enemies in contempt; yet were so terrified at their valour, that they avoided a near engagement; but inclosing the Grecians on every side shower'd their darts and arrows upon them at a distance, and in the end destroy'd their whole body. Such was the period of their lives, who under the conduct of Leonidas defended the pass of Thermopylae. Who can refrain from admiring the virtue of these men, who with one consent maintaining the post allotted by their country chearfully renounc'd their lives for the common safety of Greece, and esteem'd a glorious death more eligible than to live with dishonour? Nor is the consternation of the Persians incredible. Who among those Barbarians could have conjectur'd such an event? who could have expected, that five hundred men would have dar'd to attack a million? Wherefore shall not all posterity from that day reflect on the virtue of these men as the object of imitation, who, though the loss of their lives was the necessary consequence of their undertaking, were yet unconquer'd in their spirit; and among all the great names deliver'd down to remembrance are the only heroes, who obtain'd more glory in their fall than others from the brightest victories? With justice may they be deem'd the preservers of the Grecian liberty, even preferably to those, who were conquerors in the battles fought afterwards with Xerxes; for the memory of their valour, who fell at Thermopylae, for ever dejected the Barbarians, while the Greeks were fir'd with emulation to equal such a pitch of magnanimity. Upon the whole there never were any before these, who attain'd to immortality through the meer excess of virtue; whence the praise of their fortitude has not been recorded by historians only, but has been celebrated by numbers of poets, among others by Simonides the lyric."

PAUSANIAS in his Laconics considers the defence of Thermopylae, as an action superior to any atchiev'd by their cotemporaries, and to all the exploits of preceding ages. "Never (says he) had Xerxes beheld Greece, or laid in ashes the city of Athens, had not his forces under Hydarnes been conducted through a path over Oeta, and by that means incompassing the Greeks overcome and slain Leonidas." Nor is it improbable, that Leonidas should have maintain'd his post in so narrow a pass, till the whole army of Xerxes had perish'd by famine. At the same time the Persian navy had been miserably shatter'd by a storm, and worsted in an engagement with the Athenians at Artemisium.

To conclude, the fall of Leonidas and his brave companions, so meritorious to their country, and so glorious to themselves, has obtain'd such an high degree of veneration and applause from past ages, that few among the antient compilers of history have been silent on this amazing instance of magnanimity and zeal for liberty; and many are the epigrams and inscriptions now extant, some on the whole body, others on particulars, who died at Thermopylae, still preserving their memory in every nation conversant with learning, and at this distance of time still rendring their virtue the object of admiration and praise.

I SHALL now detain the reader no longer, than to take this public occasion of expressing my sincere regard for the LORD VISCOUNT COBHAM, and the sense of my obligations for the early honour of his friendship. To him I inscribe the following poem; and herein might I be justified, independent of all personal motives, from his Lordship's public conduct so highly distinguish'd by his disinterested zeal, and unshaken fidelity to his country, not less in civil life than in the field: and to whom a poem founded on a character eminent for military glory, and love of liberty is due from the nature of the subject.

R. GLOVER.

BOOK I.

The argument.

Xerxes king of Persia having drawn together the whole force of his empire, and pass'd over the Hellespont into Thrace with a design to conquer Greece; the deputies from the several states of that country, who had some time before assembled themselves at the Isthmus of Corinth to deliberate on proper measures for resisting the invader, were no sooner appris'd of his march into Thrace, than they determin'd without further delay to dispute his passage at the straits of Thermopylae, the most accessible part of Greece on the side of Thrace and Thessaly. Alpheus, one of the deputies from Sparta, repairs to that city, and communicates this resolution to his countrymen; who chanced that day to be assembled in expectation of receiving an answer from Apollo, to whom they had sent a messenger to consult about the event of the war. Leotychides, one of their two kings, counsels the people to advance no further, than the Isthmus of Corinth, which separates the Peloponnesus, where Lacedaemon was situated, from the rest of Greece; but Leonidas, the other king, dissuades them from it. Agis, the messenger, who had been deputed to Delphi, and brother to the queen of Leonidas, returns with the oracle; which denounces ruin to the Lacedaemonians, unless one of their kings lays down his life for the publick. Leonidas offers himself for the victim. Three hundred Spartans are chosen to accompany him to Thermopylae, and Alpheus returns to the Isthmus. Leonidas, after an interview with his queen, departs from Lacedaemon. At the end of six days, he encamps near the Isthmus, when he is join'd by Alpheus; who describes the auxiliaries, that wait at the Isthmus, those, who are already possess'd of Thermopylae, as also the pass itself; and concludes with a relation of the captivity of his brother Polydorus in Persia.

REHEARSE, O Muse, the deeds and glorious death

Of that fam'd Spartan, who withstood the pow'r

Of Xerxes near Thermopylae, and fell

To save his country. When from Asia's coast

With half the nations of the peopled globe

The Persian king the Hellespont had pass'd,

And now in Thrace his boundless camp was spread;

Soon to the Isthmus, where th'assembled chiefs

Of Greece in anxious council long had sat,

How best their menac'd liberties to guard,

The dreadful tidings reach'd. The near approach

Of Asia's lord determines their resolves.

These they convey to all the Grecian states.

Back to Eurotas' shores, where Sparta rose,

Laconian Alpheus speeds: in council there

He finds the Spartan people with their kings;

Their kings, who boast an origin divine,

From Hercules descended. They the sons

Of Lacedaemon had conven'd to learn

The sacred mandates of th' immortal Gods,

That morn expected from the Delphian dome;

But in their presence Alpheus first appear'd,

And thus address'd them. For immediate war

Prepare, O Spartans. Xerxes' num'rous pow'rs

Already fill the trembling bounds of Thrace.

The Isthmian council hath decreed to guard

The strait and rocky entrance into Greece,

Thermopylae; where ev'n a slender force

May stem the torrent of unnumber'd foes.

HE said, when Leotychides, who shar'd

The rule with great Leonidas, bespake

The Spartans thus. My countrymen give ear.

Why from her bosom should Laconia send

Her valiant sons to wage a distant war

For others' safety; why exhaust her strength

And thin her numbers in defence of those,

Who far remote from Lacedaemon dwell

Beyond the Isthmus? there the Gods have plac'd

Our native ramparts, there our empire's bound;

And there alone our country claims our swords.

HE ceas'd. The people with assenting shouts

Replied, when thus Leonidas began.

O MOST ungen'rous counsel! most unjust,

And base desertion of the Grecian weal!

What! shall th'Athenians, whose assiduous fleets

Undaunted watch th' innumerable foes,

Where'er they menace our affrighted shores,

And trust th' impending dangers of the field

To Sparta's well-known valour; shall they hear,

That we, disowning thus the gen'ral cause,

Maintain the Isthmus only, and expose

The rest of Greece, ev'n Athens, while she guards

Our naked coasts, to all the waste of war,

Her walls to ruin, and her fields to flames,

Her sons, her matrons, and her hoary sires

To violation, servitude, and shame?

O should they hear such counsels guide our state,

Would they not court the first propitious gale

To waft them far from such perfidious friends,

And raise new seats in other climes remote,

Safe from insulting foes, and false allies?

Then should we soon behold the proud array

Of Xerxes' navy with their hostile beaks

Affront our shores, and deluge all our fields

With inexhausted numbers. Half the Greeks,

By us betray'd to bondage, would support

The Persian king, and lift th' avenging spear

For our destruction. But my friends reject

Such mean and dang'rous counsels, which will blast

Your long establish'd glories, and assist

The proud invader. O eternal king

Of Gods and mortals elevate our minds!

Each low and partial passion thence dispel!

Till this great truth in ev'ry heart be known,

That none, but those, who aid the publick cause,

Can shield their countries, or themselves from chains.

HE said, by shame suppress'd each clam'rous voice

Was lost in silence; till a gen'ral shout

Proclaim'd th' approach of Agis from the fane,

Where, taught by Phoebus on the Delphic hill,

The Pythian maid his oracles reveal'd.

He came; but discontent and grief o'ercast

His anxious brow. Reluctant he advanc'd,

And now prepar'd to speak. Th' impatient throng

Was gather'd round him; motionless they stood

With expectation; not a whisper told

The silent fear, but all on Agis gaze;

And still as death attend the solemn tale.

As o'er the western waves, when ev'ry storm

Is hush'd within its cavern, and a breeze

Soft-breathing lightly with its wings along

The slacken'd cordage glides, the sailor's ear

Perceives no sound throughout the vast expanse;

None, but the murmurs of the sliding prowe,

Which slowly parts the smooth and yielding main:

So through the wide and listning croud no sound,

No voice, but thine, O Agis, broke the air,

Declaring thus the oracle divine.

I WENT to Delphi; I enquir'd what fate

Was doom'd to Sparta from th'impending war;

When thus th' all-seeing deity replied.

"Inhabitants of Sparta, Persia's arms

"Shall lay your proud and ancient seat in dust;

"Unless a king from Hercules deriv'd

"Cause Lacedaemon for his death to mourn."

AS, when the hand of Perseus had disclos'd

The snakes of dirc Medusa; all, who view'd

The Gorgon features, were congeal'd to stone,

With ghastly eye-balls on the hero bent,

And horrour living in their marble form:

Thus with amazement rooted, where they stood,

And froze with speechless terrour, on their kings

The Spartans gaz'd: but soon their anxious looks

All on the great Leonidas unite,

Long known his country's refuge. He alone

Remains unshaken. Rising, he displays

His godlike presence. Dignity and grace

Adorn his frame, and manly beauty join'd

With strength Herculean. On his aspect shines

Sublimest virtue, and desire of fame,

Where justice gives the laurel; in his eye

The inextinguishable spark, which fires

The souls of patriots: while his brow supports

Undaunted valour, and contempt of death.

Serene he rose, and thus address'd the throng.

WHY this astonishment on ev'ry face,

Ye men of Sparta? Does the name of death

Create this fear and wonder? O my friends!

Why do we labour through the arduous paths,

Which lead to virtue? Fruitless were the toil,

Above the reach of human feet were plac'd

The distant summit, if the fear of death

Could intercept our passage. But in vain

His blackest frowns and terrours he assumes

To shake the firmness of the mind, which knows,

That wanting virtue life is pain and woe,

That wanting liberty ev'n virtue mourns,

And looks around for happiness in vain.

Then speak, O Sparta, and demand my life;

My heart exulting answers to thy call,

And smiles on glorious fate. To live with fame

The Gods allow to many; but to die

With equal lustre, is a blessing, Heav'n

Selects from all the choicest boons of fate,

And with a sparing hand on few bestows.

HE said. New wonder fix'd the gazing throng.

In silence Joy and Admiration sat,

Suspending praise. At length with high acclaim

The arch of heav'n resounded, when amid

Th' assembly stood Dieneces, and spake.

SO from Thermopylae may Sparta's shouts

Affright the ear of Asia! Haste, my friends,

To guard the gates of Greece, which open stand

To Tyranny and Rapine. They with dread

Will shrink before your standards, and again

In servile Persia seek their native seats.

Your wives, your sons, your parents, general Greece

Forbid delay; and equal to the cause

A chief behold: can Spartans ask for more?

HE ceas'd; when Alpheus thus. It well becomes

The Spartans held the chiefs of Greece, and fam'd

For dauntless courage, and unyielding hearts,

Which neither want, nor pain, nor death, can bend,

To lead the rest to battle. Then with speed

From all your number form a chosen band,

While I returning, will my seat resume

Among the Isthmian council, and declare

Your instant march. Our brave allies, I deem,

Now on the Isthmus wait the Spartan king;

All but the Locrian and Boeotian force,

With Phocis' youth, appointed to secure

Thermopylae. This said, not long he paus'd,

But with unwearied steps his course renews.

NOW from th' assembly with majestic steps

Forth moves their godlike king, with conscious worth

His gen'rous bosom glowing; like his sire,

Th' invincible Alcides, when he trod

With ardent speed to face in horrid war

The triple form of Geryon, or against

The bulk of huge Antaeus match his strength.

SAY, Muse, who next present their dauntless breasts

To meet all danger in their country's cause?

Dieneces advances sage, and brave,

And skill'd along the martial field to range

The order'd ranks of battle; Maron next,

To Alpheus dear, his brother, and his friend.

Then rose Megistias with his blooming heir,

Joy of his age, and Menalippus call'd;

Megistias, wise and venerable seer,

Whose penetrating mind, as fame records,

Could from the entrails of the victim slain

Before the altar, and the mystic flight

Of birds foresee the dark events of time.

Though sprung a stranger on the distant shore

Of Acarnania, for his worth receiv'd,

And hospitably cherish'd; he the wreath

Pontific bore amid the Spartan camp;

Serene in danger, nor his sacred arm

From warlike toils secluding, nor unskill'd

To wield the sword, or poize the weighty spear.

Him Agis follow'd, brother to the queen

Of great Leonidas; his friend, in war

His tried companion. Graceful were his steps,

And gentle his demeanour. Still his soul

Preserv'd its rigid virtue, though refin'd

With arts unknown to Lacedaemon's race.

High was his office. He, when Sparta's weal

Their aid and counsel from the Gods requir'd,

Was sent the sacred messenger to learn

Their mystic will in oracles declar'd

From rocky Delphi, and Dodona's shade,

Or sea-incircled Delos, or the cell

Of dark Trophonius round Boeotia known.

Three hundred more compleat th' intrepid band.

BUT to his home Leonidas retir'd.

There calm in secret thought he thus explor'd

His mighty soul, while nature to his breast

A short-liv'd terrour call'd. What sudden grief,

What cold reluctance thus unmans my heart,

And whispers, that I fear?—Can death dismay

Leonidas, so often seen and scorn'd,

When clad most dreadful in the battle's front?—

Or to relinquish life in all its pride,

With all my honours blooming round my head,

Repines my soul? or rather to forsake,

Eternally forsake my weeping wife,

My infant offspring, and my faithful friends?—

Leonidas awake! Shall these withstand

The public safety? Lo! thy country calls.

O sacred voice, I hear thee! At that sound

Returning virtue brightens in my heart;

Fear vanishes before her; Death receive

My unreluctant hand, and lead me on.

Thou too, O Fame, attendant on my fall,

With wings unwearied shalt protect my tomb,

Nor Time himself shall violate my praise.

THE hero thus confirm'd his virtuous soul,

When Agis enter'd. If till now my tongue

(He thus began) O brother, has delay'd

To pay its grateful off'ring of the praise,

Thy merit claims, and only fill'd the cries

Of general applause, forgive thy friend;

Since her distresses, hers, whom most you love,

Detain'd me from thee. O unequall'd man!

Though Lacedaemon call thy first regard,

Forget not her, who now for thee laments

In sorrows, which fraternal love in vain

Hath strove to sooth. Leonidas embrac'd

His gen'rous friend, and thus replied. Most dear

And best of men! conceive not, but my heart

Must still remember her, from whom my life

Its largest share of happiness derives.

Can I, who yield my breath, lest others mourn,

Lest thousands should be wretched; when she pines,

More lov'd than any, though less dear than all,

Can I neglect her griefs! In future days

If thou with grateful memory record

My name and fate, O Sparta, pass not this

Unheeded by. The life, I gave for thee,

Knew not a painful hour to tire my soul,

Nor were they common joys, I left behind.

SO spake the patriot, and his heart o'erflow'd

With fondest passion; then in eager haste

The faithful partner of his bed he sought.

Amid her weeping children sat the queen,

Immoveable and mute; her swimming eyes

Fix'd on the earth. Her arms were folded o'er

Her lab'ring bosom blotted with her tears.

As, when a dusky mist involves the sky,

The moon through all the dreary vapours spreads

The radiant vesture of its silver light

O'er the dull face of nature; so her charms

Divinely graceful shone upon her grief,

Bright'ning the cloud of woe. The chief approach'd.

Soon as in gentlest phrase his well-known voice

Her drooping mind awaken'd, for a time

Its cares were hush'd: she lifts her languid head,

And thus gives utt'rance to her tender thoughts.

O THOU, whose presence is my only joy,

If thus, Leonidas, thy looks and voice

Can dissipate at once the sharpest pangs,

How greatly am I wretched; who no more

Must hear that voice, which lulls my anguish thus,

Nor see that face, which makes affliction smile!

THIS said, returning grief her breast invades.

Her orphan children, her devoted lord

Pale, bleeding, breathless on the field of death,

Her ever-during solitude of woe,

All rise in mingled horrour to her sight,

When thus in bitt'rest agony she spoke.

O WHITHER art thou going from my arms!

Shall I no more behold thee! Oh! no more

In conquest clad, and wrapt in glorious dust

Wilt thou return to greet thy native soil,

And make thy dwelling joyfull Yet, too brave,

Why wouldst thou hasten to the dreary gates

Of death, uncall'd? Another might have fall'n,

Like thee a victim of Alcides' race,

Less dear to all, and Sparta been secure.

Now ev'ry eye with mine is drown'd in tears,

All with these babes lament their father lost.

But oh! how heavy is our lot of pain!

Our sighs must last, when ev'ry other breast

Exults with transport, and the public joy

Will but increase our anguish. Yet unmov'd,

Thou didst not heed our sorrows, didst not seek

A moment's pause, to teach us how to bear

Thy endless absence, or like thee to die.

UNUTTERABLE sorrow here confin'd

Her voice. These words Leonidas return'd.

I SEE, I feel thy anguish, nor my soul

Has ever known the prevalence of love,

E'er prov'd a father's fondness, as this hour;

Nor, when most ardent to assert my fame,

Was once my heart insensible to thee.

How had it stain'd the honours of my name

To hesitate a moment, and suspend

My country's fate, till shameful life prefer'd

By my inglorious colleague left no choice,

But what in me were infamy to shun,

Not virtue to accept? Then deem no more,

That of thy love regardless, or thy tears,

I haste uncall'd to death. The voice of Fate,

The Gods, my fame, my country bid me bleed.

—Oh! thou dear mourner! wherefore streams afresh

That flood of woe? Why heaves with sighs renew'd

That tender breast? Leonidas must fall.

Alas! far heavier misery impends

O'er thee and these, if soften'd by thy tears

I shamefully refuse to yield that breath,

Which justice, glory, liberty, and heav'n

Claim for my country, for my sons, and thee.

Think on my long unalter'd love. Reflect

On my paternal fondness. Has my heart

E'er known a pause of love, or pious care?

Now shall that care, that tenderness be prov'd

Most warm and faithful. When thy husband dies.

For Lacedaemon's safety, thou wilt share,

Thou and thy children, the diffusive good.

Should I, thus singled from the rest of men,

Alone intrusted by th 'immortal Gods

With pow'r to save a people, should my soul

Desert that sacred cause, thee too I yield

To sorrow, and to shame; for thou must weep

With Lacedaemon, must with her sustain

Thy painful portion of oppression's weight.

Thy sons behold now worthy of their names,

And Spartan birth. Their growing bloom must pine

In shame and bondage, and their youthful hearts

Beat at the sound of liberty no more.

On their own virtue, and their father's fame,

When he the Spartan freedom hath confirm'd,

Before the world illustrious shall they rise,

Their country's bulwark, and their mother's joy.

HERE paus'd the patriot. With religious awe

Grief heard the voice of Virtue. No complaint

The solemn silence broke. Tears ceas'd to flow:

Ceas'd for a moment; soon again to stream.

For now in arms before the palace rang'd

His brave companions of the war demand

Their leader's presence; then her griefs renew'd,

Too great for utt'rance, intercept her sighs,

And freeze each accent on her falt'ring tongue.

In speechless anguish on the hero's breast

She sinks. On ev'ry side his children press,

Hang on his knees, and kiss his honour'd hand.

His soul no longer struggles to confine

Its strong compunction. Down the hero's cheek,

Down flows the manly sorrow. Great in woe

Amid his children, who inclose him round,

He stands indulging tenderness and love

In graceful tears; when thus with lifted eyes

Address'd to heav'n: Thou ever-living pow'r

Look down propitious, sire of Gods and men!

And to this faithful woman, whose desert

May claim thy favour, grant the hours of peace.

And thou, my great forefather, son of Jove,

O Hercules, neglect not these thy race!

But since that spirit, I from thee derive,

Now bears me from them to resistless fate,

Do thou support their virtue! be they taught,

Like thee, with glorious labour life to grace,

And from their father let them learn to die!

SO saying, forth he issues, and assumes

Before the band his station of command.

They now proceed. So mov'd the host of heav'n

Down from Olympus in majestic march,

On Jove attendant to the flaming plains

Of Phlegra, there to face the giant sons

Of Earth and Titan: he before them tow'r'd.

Thus through the streets of Lacedaemon pass'd

Leonidas. Before his footsteps bow

The multitude exulting. On he treads

Rever'd and honour'd. Their inraptur'd sight

Pursues his graceful stature, and their tongues

Extol and hail him as their guardian God.

Firm in his nervous hand he grasps his spear.

Down from his shoulders to his ankles hangs

The massy shield, and o'er his burnish'd helm

The purple plumage nods. Harmonious youths,

Around whose brows entwining laurels play'd,

In lofty-sounding strains his praise record;

While snowy-finger'd virgins all the ways

With od'rous garlands strew'd. His bosom now

Was all possess'd with glory, which dispell'd

Whate'er of grief remain'd, or fond regret

For those, he left behind. The rev'rend train

Of Lacedaemon's senate now approach'd

To give their solemn, last farewel, and grace

Their hero's parting steps. Around him flow'd

In civil pomp their venerable robes

Mix'd with the blaze of arms. The radiant troop

Of warriours press'd behind him. Maron here,

With Menalippus warm in flow'ry prime,

And Agis there with manly grace advanc'd,

Dieneces, and Acarnania's seer,

Megistias sage. The Spartan dames ascend

The loftiest domes, and thronging o'er the roofs

Gaze on their sons and husbands, as they march.

So parted Argo from th' Iolchian strand,

And plough'd the foaming surge. Thessalia's nymphs

Their hills forsaking, and their hallow'd groves,

Rang'd on the cliffs, which overshade the deep,

Still on the distant vessel fix'd their sight;

Where Greece her chosen heroes had embark'd

To seek the dangers of the Cholchian shore.

SWIFT on his course Leonidas proceeds.

Soon is Eurotas pass'd, and Lerna's banks,

Where his unconquer'd ancestor subdu'd

The many-headed Hydra, and with fame

Immortaliz'd the lake. Th'unwearied bands

Next through the pines of Maenalus he led,

And down Parthenius urg'd the rapid toil.

Six days incessant thus the Spartans march,

When now they hear the hoarse-resounding tide

Beat on the Isthmus. Here their tents they spread.

Below the wide horizon then the sun

Had sunk his beamy head. The queen of night

Gleam'd from the center of th'ethereal vault,

And o'er the dusky robe of darkness shed

Her silver light. Leonidas detains

Dieneces and Agis. Open stands

The tall pavilion, and admits the moon.

As here they sat conversing, from the hill,

Which rose before them, one of noble port

Appears with speed descending. Lightly down

The slope he treads, and calls aloud. They heard,

And knew the voice of Alpheus. From their seats

They rose, and thus Leonidas began.

O THOU, whom heav'n with swiftness hath endu'd

To match the ardour of thy daring soul,

What calls thee from the Isthmus? Do the Greeks

Neglect to arm, nor face the public foe?

I COME to meet thee (Alpheus thus return'd)

A messenger, who gladsome tidings bears.

Through Greece the voice of liberty is heard,

And all unfold their banners in her cause;

The Thebans only with reluctant hands.

Arcadia's sons with morning shalt thou join,

Who on the Isthmus wait thy great command.

With Diophantus Mantinéa sends

Five hundred spears; nor less from Tegea's walls

With Hegesander move. A thousand more,

Who in Orchomenus reside, who range

Along Parrhasius, and Cyllene's brow,

Or near the foot of Erymanthus dwell,

Or on Alphéus' banks, with various chiefs,

Attend thy call; but most is Clonius fam'd

Of stature huge: unshaken as a rock,

His giant bulk the line of war sustains.

Four hundred warriours brave Alcmaeon draws

From stately Corinth's tow'rs. Two hundred march

From Phlius, whom Eupalamus commands.

An equal number of Mycenae's race

Aristobulus heads. Through fear alone

Of thee, and threatning Greece the Thebans arm.

To these inglorious Greeks my self repair'd

Their dying sense of honour to recal.

A few corrupted by the Persian gold,

Unjust dominion have usurp'd in Thebes.

These in each bosom quell the gen'rous flame

Of liberty. The eloquent they bribe;

With specious tales the multitude they cheat;

And prostitute the name of public good

To veil oppression. Others are immers'd

In all the sloth of riches, and unmov'd

In shameful ease behold their country fall.

I first implor'd their senate's instant aid,

But they with artful wiles demanding time

For consultation, I address'd them thus.

The shortest moment may suffice to know,

If to die free be better than to serve;

But if, deluding Greece by vain delays,

You mean to shew your friendship to the foe,

You cannot then deliberate too long,

How to withstand her swift-avenging wrath,

Approaching with Leonidas. This heard,

Four hundred warriours they appoint to march.

The wily Anaxander is their chief,

With Leontiades. I saw their march

Begun, then hasten'd to survey the straits,

Which thou shalt render sacred to renown.

Where, ever mingling with the crumbling soil,

Which moulders round the Malian bay, the sea

In slimy surges rolls; upon the rock,

Which forms the utmost limit of the bay,

Thermopylae is stretch'd. Where broadest spread,

It measures threescore paces, bounded here

By the deep ooze, which underneath presents

Its dreary surface; there the lofty cliffs

Of woody Oeta overlook the pass,

And far beyond o'er half the surge below

Their horrid umbrage cast. Across the straits

An ancient bulwark of the Phocians stands,

A wall with turrets crown'd. In station here

I found the Locrians, and from Thespia's gates

Sev'n hundred more Demophilus hath led.

His brother's son attends him to the camp,

Young Dithyrambus greatly fam'd in war,

But more for temperance of mind renown'd;

Lov'd by his country, and with honours grac'd,

His early bloom with brightest glory shines,

Nor wantons in the blaze. Here Agis spake.

WELL hast thou painted that illustrious youth.

He was my host at Thespia. Though adorn'd

With highest deeds, by fame and fortune crown'd,

His gentle virtues take from envy's mouth

Its blasting venom, and her baneful face

Strives on his worth to smile. In silence all

Again remain, and Alpheus thus pursues.

A CHOSEN troop hath bold Plataea sent,

Small in its numbers, but unmatch'd in arms.

Above the rest Diomedon their chief

Excels in prowess. Signal were his deeds

Upon that day of glory, when the fields

Of Marathon were hid with Persian slain.

These guard Thermopylae. Among the hills

A winding path to stranger's feet unknown

Affords another entrance into Greece:

This by a thousand Phocians is secur'd.

HERE Alpheus paus'd. Leonidas embrac'd

The noble Spartan, and rejoin'd. Thou know'st

What fate to me th' immortal Gods ordain.

Frame now thy choice. Accompany our march,

Or go to Lacedaemon, and relate,

How thy discerning mind, and active limbs

Have serv'd thy country. From th' impatient mouth

Of Alpheus streight these fervent accents broke.

I HAVE not measur'd such a tract of land,

Not look'd unwearied on the setting sun,

And through the shade of midnight urg'd my steps

To rouse the Greeks to battle, that myself

Might be exempted from the glorious toil.

Return? Oh! no. A second time my feet

Shall visit thee, Thermopylae, and there

With great Leonidas shall Alpheus find

An honourable grave. And oh! amid

His country's danger if a Spartan breast

May feel a private sorrow, not alone

For injur'd Greece I hasten to revenge,

But for a brother's wrongs. A younger hope

Than I, or Maron bless'd our father's years,

Child of his age, and Polydorus nam'd.

His mind, while tender in its op'ning prime,

Was bent to rigid virtue. Gen'rous scorn

Of pain and danger taught his early strength

To struggle patient with severest toils.

Oft, when inclement winter chill'd the air,

And frozen show'rs had swoln Eurotas' stream,

Amid th' impetuous channel would he plunge,

And breast the torrent. On a fatal day,

As in the sea his active limbs he bath'd,

A servile corsair of the Persian king

My brother, naked and defenceless, bore

Ev'n in my sight to Asia, there to waste,

With all the promise of its growing worth,

His youth in bondage. Never can my tongue

My pains recount, much less my father's woes,

The days he wept, the sleepless nights he beat

His aged bosom. And shall Alpheus' spear

Be absent from Thermopylae, nor claim,

O Polydorus, vengeance for thy bonds

In that first slaughter of the barb'rous foe?

HERE interpos'd Dieneces. The hands

Of Alpheus and Leonidas he grasp'd,

And joyful thus. Your glory wants no more,

Than that Lycurgus should himself arise

To praise the virtue, which his laws inspire.

THUS pass'd these heroes, till the dead of night,

The hours in friendly converse, and enjoy'd

Each other's virtue; happiest of men!

At length with gentle heaviness the hand

Of sleep invades their eyelids. On the ground,

Oppress'd with slumber, they extend their limbs;

When, sliding down the hemisphere, the moon

Now plung'd in midnight gloom her silver head.

End of the First Book.

LEONIDAS. BOOK II.

The argument.

Leonidas, on his approach to the Isthmus, is met by the leaders of the troops sent from other Grecian states, and by the deputies, who compos'd the Isthmian council. He harangues them, then proceeds in conjunction with the other forces towards Thermopylae; is join'd by Dithyrambus, and arrives at the straits about noon on the fourth day after his departure from the Isthmus. He is receiv'd at Thermopylae by the Thespian commander Demophilus, and by Anaxander the Theban treacherously recommending Epialtes a Malian, who seeks by a pompous description of the Persian power to intimidate the Grecian leaders, as they are viewing the enemies camp from the top of mount Oeta. He is answer'd by Dieneces and Diomedon. Xerxes sends Tigranes and Phraortes to the Grecian camp, who are dismiss'd by Leonidas, and conducted back by Dithyrambus and Diomedon; which last, incens'd with the insolence of Tigranes, treats him with contempt and menaces. This occasions a challenge to single combat between Diomedon and Tigranes, Dithyrambus and Phraortes. Epialtes, after a conference with Anaxander, declares his intention of returning to Xerxes.

AURORA spread her purple beams around,

When mov'd the Spartans. Their approach is known.

The Isthmian council, and the various chiefs,

Who led th' auxiliar bands, proceed to meet

Leonidas; Eupalamus the strong,

Alcmaeon, Clonius, Diophantus brave,

And Hegesander. At their head advanc'd

Aristobulus, whom Mycenae's youth

Attend to war; Mycenae once elate

With pow'r and dazzling wealth, and vaunting still

The name of Agamemnon, who along

The seas of Asia open'd to the wind

Unnumber'd sails, and darken'd half the shore

Of trembling Phrygia with the hostile shade.

Aristobulus join'd the Spartan king,

And thus began. Leonidas survey

Mycenae's race. Should ev'ry other Greek

Be aw'd by Xerxes, and his Asian host,

Believe not, we can fear, deriv'd from those,

Who once conducted o'er the foaming surge

The strength of Greece, who desert left the fields

Of ravag'd Asia, and her proudest walls

From their foundations humbled to the dust.

LEONIDAS replied not, but address'd

The chiefs around. Illustrious warriours hail,

Who thus undaunted signalize your faith,

And gen'rous ardour in the common cause.

But you, whose counsels prop the Grecian state,

O venerable synod, whose decrees

Have call'd us forth, to vanquish, or to die,

Thrice hail. Whate'er by valour we obtain

Your wisdom must preserve. With piercing eyes

Each Grecian state contemplate, and discern

Their various tempers. Some with partial care

To guard their own neglect the publick weal.

Cold and unmov'd are others. Terrour here,

And there corruption reigns. O fire the brave

With gen'rous zeal to quit their native walls,

And join their valour in the gen'ral cause;

Confirm the wav'ring; animate the cold,

And watch the faithless: some there are, betray

Themselves and Greece; their perfidy prevent,

Or call them back to honour. Let us all

Be link'd in sacred union, and the Greeks

Shall stand the world's whole multitude in arms.

If for the spoil, which Paris bore to Troy,

A thousand barks the Hellespont o'erspread;

Shall not again confederated Greece

Be rous'd to battle, and to freedom give,

What once she gave to fame. Behold we haste

To stop th' invading tyrant. Till we bleed,

He shall not pour his millions on your plains.

But as the Gods conceal, how long our strength

May stand unconquer'd, or how soon must fall,

Waste not a moment, till consenting Greece

Range all her free-born numbers in the field.

LEONIDAS concludes, when awful step'd

Before the sage assembly one, whose head

Was hoar with aged snow, and thus replied.

THY great example ev'ry heart unites.

From thee her happiest omens Greece derives

Of concord, freedom, victory, and fame.

Go then, O first of mortals, and impress

Amaze and terrour in the Persians breast;

The free-born Greeks instructing life to deem

Less dear than virtue, and their country's cause.

THIS heard, Leonidas, thy secret soul

Exulting tasted of the sweet reward

Due to thy name from endless time. His eyes

Once more he turn'd, and view'd in rapt'rous thought

His native land, which he alone can save;

Then summon'd all his majesty, and o'er

The Isthmus trod. Behind the Grecians move

In deep arrangement. So th' imperial bark

With stately bulk along the beating tide

In military pomp conducts the pow'r

Of some proud navy bounding from the port

To bear the vengeance of a mighty state

Against a tyrant's walls. The Grecians march

Till noon, when halting, as they take repast,

Upon the plain before them they descry

A troop of Thespians. One above the rest

In eminence precedes. His glitt'ring shield,

Whose spacious orb collects th' effulgent beams,

Which from his throne meridian Phoebus cast,

Flames like another sun. A snowy plume

Falls o'er his dazzling cask. In wanton curls,

Which floated in the breathing air, around

The lofty crest it wav'd. Approaching near

Beneath the honours of his radiant helm

The warriour now a countenance display'd,

Where youth in rosy prime with sweetness mix'd

Its manly beauty. With such modest grace

Respectful near Leonidas he came,

As all ideas of his own desert

Were lost in veneration. Phoebus thus

Appears before his everlasting sire,

When from his altar in th' imbow'ring grove

Of palmy Delos, or the hallow'd bound

Of Tenedos, or Claros, where he hears

His hymns and praises from the sons of men,

He reascends the high Olympian seats;

Such reverential awe his brow invests,

Diffusing o'er the glowing flow'r of youth

New loveliness and grace. The king receives

Th' illustrious Thespian, and began. My tongue

Would call thee Dithyrambus, for thou bear'st

All in thy aspect to become that name

For valour known and virtue. O reveal

Thy birth and charge; whoe'er thou art, my soul

Desires to know thee, and would call thee friend.

TO whom the youth return'd. O first of Greeks,

My name is Dithyrambus, which the lips

Of some benevolent and gen'rous friend

To thee have sounded with a partial voice,

And thou hast heard with favourable ears.

I come deputed by the Thespian chief,

The Theban, and the Locrian, and the brave

Diomedon, to hasten thy approach.

Three days will bring the Persian pow'rs in view.

HE ceas'd. At once the standards are uprear'd.

The host till ev'ning with impetuous pace

Their march continue. Through the earliest dews

Of morning they proceed, and reach the pass,

E'er the fourth sun attain'd the sult'ry noon.

To their impatient sight no sooner rose

The rocks of Oeta, but with rapid feet,

And martial sounds of joy they rush'd along;

As if the present deity of Fame,

Her temples with unfading laurels bound,

And in her hand her adamantine trump,

Had from the hills her radiant form disclos'd,

And bade their valour hasten to the field;

That she their acts beholding might resound

Their name and glory o'er the earth and seas.

Before the van Leonidas advanc'd,

His eye confess'd the ardour of his mind,

Which thus found utt'rance from his eager lips.

ALL hail! Thermopylae, and you, the pow'rs,

Which here preside. All hail! ye silvan Gods,

Ye fountain nymphs, who pour your lucid rills

In broken murmurs down the rugged steep.

Receive us, O benignant, and support

The cause of Greece. Conceal the secret paths,

Which o'er the crags and through the forests wind,

Untrod by human feet, and trac'd alone

By your immortal footsteps. O defend

Your own recesses, nor let impious war

Profane the solemn silence of your groves.

Thus on your hills your praises shall you hear

From those, whose deeds shall tell th' approving world,

That not to undeservers did you grant

Your high protection. You my valiant friends

Now rouse the gen'rous spirit, which inflames

Your breasts; now prove the vigour of your arms:

That your recorded actions may survive

Within the breasts of all the brave and free,

And sound delightful in the ear of Time,

As long as Neptune beats the Malian bay,

Or those tall cliffs erect their shaggy tops

So near to heav'n, your monuments of fame.

As in some torrid region, where the head

Of Ceres bends beneath its golden load,

If on the parching ground a fatal spark

Fall from a burning brand; the sudden blaze

Increas'd and aided by tumultuous winds

In rapid torrents of involving flames

Sweeps o'er the crackling plain, and mounting high

In ruddy spires illumines half the skies:

Not with less swiftness through the glowing ranks

The words of great Leonidas diffus'd

A more than mortal fervour. Ev'ry heart

Distends with great ideas, such as raise

The patriot's virtue, and the soldier's fire,

When danger in its most tremendous form

Seems to their eyes most lovely. In their thoughts

Imagination pictures all the scenes

Of war, the purple field, the heaps of death,

And glitt'ring trophies pil'd with Persian arms.

BUT now the Grecian leaders, who before

Were station'd near Thermopylae, accost

The Spartan king. The Thespian chief allied

To Dithyrambus first the silence broke,

An ancient warriour. From behind his casque,

Whose crested weight his aged temples press'd,

His slender hairs, which time had silver'd o'er,

Flow'd venerable down. He thus began.

JOY now shall crown the period of my days.

And whether with my father's dust I sleep,

Or slain by Persia's sword I press the earth

Our common parent, be it as the Gods

Shall best determine. For the present hour

I bless their bounty, which has giv'n my age

To see the great Leonidas, and bid

The hero welcome on this glorious shore;

Where he by heav'n selected from mankind

Shall fix the basis of the Grecian weal.

HERE too the wily Anaxander spake.

Hail! glorious chief. Of all the Theban race

We shall at least with gladsome bosoms meet

The great defender of the Grecian cause.

O! may oblivion o'er the shame of Thebes

Its darkest wing extend, or they alone

Be curs'd by Fame, whose impious counsels turn

Their countrymen from virtue. Thebes alas!

Still had been buried in dishonest sloth,

Had not to wake her languor Alpheus come

The messenger of freedom. O accept

Our grateful hearts; thou, Alpheus, art the cause,

That Anaxander from his native gates

Here hath not borne a solitary spear,

Nor these inglorious in their walls remain'd.

But longer do we loiter? Haste my friends

To yonder cliff, which points its shade afar,

And view the Persian camp. The morning sun

Beheld their numbers hide th' adjacent plains.

Lo! here a Malian, Epialtes nam'd,

Who with the foe from Thracia's bounds hath march'd.

HE said. His seeming virtue all deceiv'd.

The camp not long had Epialtes join'd,

By race a Malian. Eloquent his tongue,

But false his heart, and abject. He was skill'd

To grace perfidious counsels, and to cloath

In swelling phrase the baseness of his soul,

Foul nurse of treasons. To the tents of Greece,

Himself a Greek, a faithless spy he came.

Soon to the friends of Xerxes he repair'd,

The Theban chiefs, and nightly consult held,

How best with consternation to deject

The Spartan valour, or how best betray.

With him the leaders climb the arduous hill,

From whence the dreadful prospect they command,

Where endless plains by white pavilions hid

Spread, like the vast Atlantic, when no shore,

No rock or promontory stops the sight

Unbounded, as it wanders; but the moon

Resplendent eye of night in fullest orb

Throughout th' interminated surface throws

Its rays abroad, and decks in snowy light

The dancing billows; such was Xerxes' camp:

A pow'r unrivall'd by the greatest king,

Or conqueror, that e'er with ruthless hands

Dissolving all the sacred ties, which bind

The happiness of nations, have alarm'd

The sleeping fury Discord from her den.

Not from the hundred brazen gates of Thebes,

The tow'rs of Memphis, and the pregnant fields

By Nile's prolifick torrents delug'd o'er,

E'er flow'd such armies with th' Aegyptian lord

Renown'd Sesostris; who with trophies fill'd

The vanquish'd earth, and o'er the rapid foam

Of distant Tanais, and the huge expanse

Of trembling Ganges spread his dreaded name:

Nor yet in Asia's far extended bounds

E'er met such numbers, not when Belus drew

Th' Assyrian bands to conquest, or the pride

Of high-exalted Babylon survey'd

The plains along Euphrates cover'd wide

With armed myriads swarming from her walls;

When at the rage of dire Semiramis

Peace fled affrighted from the ravag'd East.

Yet all this hideous face of war dismays

No Grecian heart. Unterrified they stood.

Th' immeasurable camp with fearless eyes

They traverse, while in meditation near

The treach'rous Malian waits, collecting all

His pomp of words to paint the hostile pow'r;

Nor yet with falshood arms his fraudful tongue

To feign a tale of terrour: Truth herself

Beyond the reach of fiction to inhance

Now aids his treason, and with cold dismay

Might pierce the boldest breast, unless secur'd

By dauntless virtue, which disdains to live

From liberty divorc'd. Requested now

By ev'ry voice the traitor spake, and all

Attentive ears incline. Oh! Greeks and friends!

Can I behold my native Malian fields

Presenting hostile millions to your sight,

And not with grief suppress the horrid tale,

Which you exact from these ill-omen'd lips.

On Thracia's sands I first beheld the foe,

When, joining Europe with the Asian shore,

A mighty bridge th' outragious waves restrain'd,

And stem'd th' impetuous current; while in arms

The universal progeny of men▪

Seem'd all before me trampling o'er the sea

By thousands and ten thousands: Persians, Medes

Assyrians, Saces, Indians, swarthy files

From Aethiopia, Aegypt's tawny sons,

Arabians, Bactrians, Parthians, all the strength

Of Libya and of Asia. Neptune groan'd

Beneath the burthen, and indignant heav'd

His neck against th' incumbent weight. In vain

The violence of Boreas and the West,

With rage combin'd, against th' unshaken pile

Dash'd half the Hellespont. The eastern world

Sev'n days and nights uninterrupted pass,

And pour on Thracia's confines. They accept

The Persian lord, and range their hardy race

Beneath his standards. Macedonia's youth

With all Thessalia next, and ev'ry Greek,

Who dwells beyond Thermopylae, attend.

Thus not alone embodied Asia lifts

Her threatning lance, but Macedon and Thrace,

Whose martial loins with daring warriours teem,

And faithless Greeks in multitudes untold

The Persian Monarch aid. Celestial pow'rs!

And thou, who reignest over men and Gods,

Who in a moment by thy will supreme

Canst quell the mighty in their proudest hopes,

And raise the weak to safety, thou impart

Thy instant succour; interpose thy arm;

With lightning blast their legions: Oh! confound

With triple-bolted thunder Persia's camp,

Whence like an inundation with the morn

Shall millions rush, and overwhelm the Greeks.

Resistance else were vain against an host,

Which covers all Thessalia; for beyond

The Malian plains thus widely stretch'd below,

Beyond the utmost measure of the sight

Bent from the height of this aspiring cliff,

Lie yet more hideous numbers, which might drain

The streams of copious rivers with their thirst,

And with their arrows hide the mid-day sun.

THEN shall we join our battle in the shade,

Dieneces replied. Not calmly thus

Diomedon. On Xerxes' camp he bends

His low'ring brow, which frowns had furrow'd o'er,

And thus exclaim'd. Bellona turn and view

With joyful eyes that field, the fatal stage,

Which regal madness hath for you prepar'd

To exercise your horrours. Thou, O Death,

Shalt riot here unceasing, when the rocks

Of yonder pass with bleeding ranks are strew'd;

And all, who shun th' avenging steel of Greece,

By pestilence and meager famine seiz'd,

Shall with variety of ruin feast

Thy unabated hunger. Thus he spake,

While on the host immense his gloomy eyes

He fix'd disdainful, and its strength defied.

MEANTIME within th' entrenchment of the Greeks

From Asia's monarch delegated came

Tigranes and Phraortes. From the hills

Leonidas conducts th' impatient chiefs.

Around the hero in his tent they throng,

When thus Tigranes their attention calls.

AMBASSADORS from Persia's king we stand

Before you Grecians. To display the pow'r

Of our great master, were a needless task.

The name of Xerxes, Asia's mighty lord,

Invincible, and seated on a throne

Surpassing human lustre, must have reach'd

Th' extremest border of the earth, and taught

The hearts of men to own resistless force

With awe, and low submission. Yet I swear

By yon refulgent orb, which flames above,

The glorious symbol of th' eternal pow'r,

This military throng, this shew of war

Persuade me, you have never heard that name,

At whose dread sound the billows wide remote

Of Indus tremble, and the Caspian wave,

Th' Aegyptian tide, and Hellespontic surge

With homage roll. O impotent and rash!

Whom yet the large beneficence of heav'n,

And our great monarch merciful and kind

Deign to preserve. Resign your arms; disperse

Each to your cities; there with humblest hands

Before your lord bestrew the way with flow'rs.

AS through th' extensive grove, whose leafy boughs

Intwining crown some eminence with shade,

The tempests rush sonorous, and between

The crashing branches roar; by fierce disdain

And indignation thus the Grecians mov'd

With clam'rous murmurs close the Persian's speech.

But Sparta's king arising, all is hush'd

In sudden silence; when he thus replied.

O PERSIAN, when to Xerxes thou return'st,

Say thou hast told the wonders of his pow'r;

Then say, thou saw'st a slender band of Greece,

Which dares his boasted millions to the field.

THE Spartan said. Th'Ambassadors retire.

Them o'er the limits of the Grecian lines

Diomedon and Thespia's youth conduct.

With slow solemnity they all proceed

In sullen silence. But their looks denote

What speech would shame and weaken. Wrath contracts

The forehead of Diomedon. His teeth

Gnash with impatience for delay'd revenge.

Disdain, which sprung from conscious merit, flush'd

The cheek of Dithyrambus. On the face

Of either Persian insolence and pride

Incens'd by disappointment gloomy low'r'd.

But when they reach'd the limits of the straits,

Where Xerxes' camp began to open wide

Its deep, immense arrangement; then the heart

Of vain Tigranes, swelling at the sight,

Thus overflows in loud and haughty phrase.

O ARIMANIUS, origin of ill,

Have we demanded of thy ruthless pow'r,

Thus with the curse of madness to afflict

These wretched men? But since thy dreadful will

To irresistible perdition dooms

The sons of Greece, in vain should we oppose.

Be thy dire will accomplish'd, let them fall,

And fatten with their blood their native soil.

ENRAG'D the stern Diomedon replies.

Thou servile, base dependent on a king,

Inglorious mercenary, slave to those,

Whom most we scorn, thou boaster, dost thou know,

That I beheld the Marathonian field;

When, like the Libyan sands before the wind,

Your host was scatter'd by th'unconquer'd Greeks;

Where thou perhaps didst turn before this arm

To ignominious flight thy shiv'ring limbs?

O may I find thee in to morrow's fight!

Then on this rocky pavement shalt thou lie

Beneath this arm to feast the vulture's beak.

HE ended here, and thus the Persian chief.

O thou, whose hand omnipotent protects

The throne of Xerxes, bend thy sacred ear!

For lo! my first victorious fruits of war

To thee I here devote, the gory spoils,

Which from this Grecian with the rising dawn

In sight of either host my arm shall rend.

PHRAORTES interrupting then began.

I too would find among the Grecian chiefs

One, who in battle dare abide my spear.

TO him thus answer'd Thespia's gallant youth.

Thou look'st on me, O Persian. Worthier far

Thou mightst indeed have singled from our host,

But none more willing to essay thy force.

Yes, I will prove before the eye of Mars,

How far the valour of the meanest Greek

Beyond thy vaunts deserves the palm of fame.

THIS said, the Persians to their king repair,

Back to their camp the Grecians. There they found

Each soldier poizing his extended spear,

And his large buckler bracing on his arm,

For instant war prepar'd. Through all the files

Each leader moves exulting, and with praise

And exhortations aids their native warmth.

Alone the Theban Anaxander pin'd,

Who thus apart address'd his Malian friend.

WHAT has thy lofty eloquence avail'd,

Alas! in vain attempting to confound

The Spartan valour? With redoubled fires

See how their bosoms glow. They wish to die,

And wait impatient for th' unequal fight.

Too soon will come th' insuperable foes,

And in promiscuous ruin all be whelm'd;

Nor shall our merit to the Persian lord

Be told, or known: for whose advent'rous feet

To serve the Thebans, through the guarded pass,

The Grecian watch eluding, will approach

The tents of Asia, that the king may know,

And spare his friends amid the gen'ral wreck;

When his high-swoln resentment, like a flood

Increas'd with stormy show'rs, shall cover Greece

With desolation? Epialtes here.

WHENCE, Anaxander, this unjust despair?

Is there a path on Oeta's hills unknown

To Epialtes? O'er the trackless rock,

And mazy grove shall pass my secret steps.

This night I part. Thy merit shall be told

To Persia's king. Thou only watch the hour,

Nor then be tardy, when he wants thy aid.

End of the Second Book.

LEONIDAS. BOOK III.

The argument.

Tigranes and Phraortes repair to Xerxes, whom they find seated on a throne surrounded by his satraps in a magnificent pavilion; while the Magi stand before him, and sing an hymn containing the religion of Zoroastres. Xerxes, notwithstanding the arguments of his brothers Hyperanthes and Abrocomes, gives no credit to the ambassadors, who report, that the Grecians are determin'd to maintain the pass against him; but commands Demaratus an exil'd king of Sparta to attend him, and ascends his chariot to take a view of the Grecians himself. He passes through the midst of his army, consisting of many nations differing in arms, customs, and manners. He advances to the entrance of the straits, and surpris'd at the behaviour of the Spartans demands the reason of it from Demaratus; which occasions a conversation between them on the mercenary forces of Persia, and the militia of Greece. Demaratus weeping at the fight of his countrymen, is comforted by Hyperanthes. Xerxes still incredulous commands Tigranes and Phraortes to bring the Grecians bound before him the next day, and retires to his pavilion.

NOW had Tigranes, and Phraortes gain'd

The splendid tent of Xerxes. Him they found

Begirt with princes, and illustrious chiefs,

The potentates of Asia. Near his side

His valiant brothers stood, Abrocomes,

And Hyperanthes, then Pharnuchus brave,

Pandates, Intaphernes, mighty lords,

And numbers more in purple splendour clad,

With homage all attending round the throne,

Whose gorgeous seat erected high upbore

Their regal master. He above their heads

Look'd down imperious. So the stately tow'r

Of Belus, mingling its majestick front

With heav'n's bright azure, from on high survey'd

The huge extent of Babylon, with all

Its sumptuous domes and palaces beneath.

That day the monarch deem'd to enter Greece,

And hide her fields with war; but first ordains,

That grateful hymns should celebrate the name

Of Oromasdes: so the Persians call'd

The world's great author. By the king's decree

The Magi stood before th' unfolded tent.

Fire blaz'd beside them. Tow'rds the sacred flame

They turn'd, and sent their tuneful praise to heav'n.

FROM Zoroastres was the song deriv'd,

Who on the hills of Persia from his cave

With flow'rs incircled, and with murm'ring founts,

That chear'd the solemn mansion, had reveal'd,

How Oromasdes, radiant source of good,

Original, immortal fram'd the globe

With all its varied beauty: how with stars

By him the heav'ns were spangled: how the sun,

Refulgent Mithra, purest spring of light,

And genial warmth, whence fruitful Nature smiles,

Burst from the east at his creating voice;

When streight beyond the golden verge of day

Night shew'd the horrours of her distant reign,

Whence black, and hateful Arimanius sprung,

The author foul of evil: he with shades

From his dire mansion veil'd the earth and skies,

Or to destruction chang'd the solar beam,

When parching fields deny the foodful grain,

And from their channels fly th' exhaling streams,

Whence pestilence, and famine: how the pow'r

Of Oromasdes in the human breast

Benevolence, and equity infus'd,

Truth, temperance, and wisdom sprung from heav'n;

When Arimanius blacken'd all the soul

With falshood, and injustice, with desires

Insatiable, with violence, and rage,

Malignity, and folly. If the hand

Of Oromasdes on precarious life

Shed wealth, and pleasure, soon th' infernal God

With wild excess, or av'rice blasts the joy.

Thou, Oromasdes, victory dost give.

By thee with fame the regal head is crown'd.

Great Xerxes owns thy succour. When with storms

The hate of direful Arimanius swell'd

The Hellespont, thou o'er the angry surge

The destin'd master of the world didst lead,

This day his promis'd glories to enjoy,

When Greece affrighted to his arm shall bend;

Ev'n as at last shall Arimanius fall

Before thy might, and evil be no more.

THE Magi ceas'd their harmony; when now

Before the king with adoration bow'd

Tigranes and Phraortes. Prone they lay,

And o'er their foreheads spread their abject hands,

As from a present deity too bright

For mortal vision to conceal their eyes.

At length in humble phrase Tigranes thus.

O XERXES, live for ever! Gracious lord!

Who dost permit thy servants to approach

Thy awful sight, and prostrate thus to own

Thy majesty and greatness. May the pow'r

Of Oromasdes stretch thy scepter'd arm

O'er all the nations from the Indian shores,

Ev'n to the waters of the western main,

From northern Tanais to the source of Nile!

And still from thee may Arimanius turn

Against thy foes his malice to mankind!

By him, ev'n now with frenzy smote, the Greeks

Reject thy proffer'd clemency. The morn

Shall see them bleed the victims of thy wrath.

HERE, to his brothers turning, Xerxes spake.

Say, Hyperanthes? Does thy soul believe

These tydings? Sure these slaves have never dar'd

To face the Grecians, but delude our ear

With base impostures, which their fears suggest.

To him this answer Hyperanthes form'd.

O from his servants may the king avert

His indignation! Greece was fam'd of old

For martial virtue, and intrepid sons:

I have essay'd their valour, and with me

Abrocomes can witness. When our sire

The great Darius to th' Athenian shore

With Artaphernes, and with Datis sent

Our tender youth; at Marathon we found,

How vain the hopes, that numbers should dismay

A foe resolv'd on victory, or death.

Yet not as one contemptible, or base

Let me appear before thee: though the Greeks

With such unconquer'd spirits be indu'd,

Soon as the king shall summon me to war,

He shall behold me in the dang'rous van

Exalt my spear, and pierce the hostile ranks,

Or sink before them. Xerxes then return'd;

WHY over Asia, and the Libyan soil,

With all their nations does my potent arm

Extend its scepter? Wherefore do I sweep

Across the globe with millions in my train?

Why shade the Ocean with unnumber'd sails?

Whence all this pow'r, unless th' eternal will

Had doom'd to give one master to the world,

And that the earth's extremity alone

Should bound my empire? He for this reduc'd

Revolted Aegypt, and inlarg'd my sway

With sandy Libya, and the sultry clime

Of Aethiopia. He for this subdu'd

The Hellespontic rage, and taught the sea

Obedience to my pow'r. Then cease to think,

That heav'n deserting now the cause of kings

Those despicable Grecians will inspire

With courage more than human, and expunge

The common fears of nature from their breasts.

He ceas'd, when thus Abrocomes began.

THE king commands us to reveal our hearts:

Then may the sun to lightning change his beams

And blast my head with ruin; may the king

Look on his servant with a loathing eye,

If what I here affirm be false, or vain,

That yonder Grecians will oppose our course.

THE king arose. No more: prepare my Car;

The Spartan exile Demaratus call:

We will our selves advance and view the foe.

THE monarch will'd; and suddenly he hears

His trampling horses. High on silver wheels

The iv'ry car with azure sapphirs shone,

Caerulean beryls, and the jasper green,

The emerald, the ruby's glowing blush,

The flaming topaz with its golden beam,

The pearl, th' impurpled amathyst, and all

The various gems, which India's mines afford

To deck the pomp of kings. In burnish'd gold

A sculptur'd eagle from behind displays

Its stately neck, and o'er the monarch's head

Extends its dazzling wings. Eight gen'rous steeds,

Which on the fam'd Nysaean plain were nurs'd

In wintry Media, drew the radiant car.

Not those of old to Hercules refus'd

By false Laomedon, nor they, which bore

The son of Thetis through the scatter'd rear

Of Troy's devoted race, might these surpass

In strength, or beauty. With obedient pride

They heard their lord: exulting in the air

They toss'd their foreheads, while the silver manes

Smote on their glitt'ring necks. The king ascends:

Beside his footstool Demaratus sat.

The charioteer now shakes the golden reins,

Bold Patiramphes. At the signal bound

Th' attentive steeds; the chariot flew; behind

Ten thousand horse in thunder swept the field.

The eastern bands (so Xerxes had ordain'd)

Between the sea-beat margin, and the camp

All wait imbattled, all prepar'd to pass

Thermopylae. To these with rapid wheels

Th' imperial car proceeds. Th' approaching king

Soon through the wide battalions is proclaim'd.

He now draws nigh. Th' innumerable host

Roll back by nations, and admit their lord

With all his satraps. From his crystal dome

Rais'd on the bottom of the watry world

Thus when the potent ruler of the floods

With each caerulean deity ascends,

Thron'd on his pearly chariot; all the deep

Divides its bosom to th' emerging God.

So Xerxes rode between the Asian world

On either side receding; when, as down

Th' immeasurable ranks his sight was lost,

A momentary gloom o'ercast his mind,

While this reflection fill'd his eyes with tears:

That soon, as Time an hundred years had told,

Not one of all those thousands should survive.

Whence to obscure thy pride arose that cloud?

Was it, that once humanity could touch

A tyrant's breast? or rather did thy soul

Repine, O Xerxes, at the bitter thought,

That all thy pow'r was mortal? But the veil

Of sadness soon forsook his brightning eyes,

As with adoring homage millions bow'd,

And to his heart relentless pride recall'd.

Elate the mingled prospect he surveys

Of glitt'ring files unnumber'd, chariots scyth'd

On thund'ring axles roll'd with haughty steeds

In sumptuous trappings clad (Barbaric pomp)

Which tore with spurning hoofs the sandy beach;

While ev'ry banner to the sun expands

Its gorgeous folds, that beam'd with gold, with shields,

Tiaras, helms environ'd, and with spears

In number equal to the bladed grass,

Whose living green in vernal beauty cloaths

Thessalia's vale. What pow'rs of sounding verse

Can to the mind present th' amazing scene?

Not thee, whom Rumour's fabling voice delights,

Poetic Fancy, to my aid I call;

But thou, historic Truth, support my song,

Which shall the various multitude display,

Their arms, their manners, and their native seats.

THE Persians first in scaly corselets shone

With colours varying on the gorgeous sleeves,

A gen'rous nation. From their infant age

Their tongues were practic'd in the love of truth,

Their limbs inur'd to ev'ry manly toil,

To brace the bow, to rule th' impetuous steed,

And dart the javelin; worthy to enjoy

The liberty, their injur'd fathers lost,

Whose arms for Cyrus overturn'd the strength

Of Babylon and Sardis, and advanc'd

The victors head above his country's laws.

Such were the Persians; but untaught to form

The ranks of battle, with unequal force

Against the phalanx of the Greeks they stood,

And to the massy shield, and weighty spear

A target light, and slender lance oppos'd.

On ev'ry head tiaras rose, like tow'rs,

Impenetrable. All with burnish'd gold

Blaz'd their gay sandals, and the floating reins

Of each proud courser. Daggers from their thighs,

A well-stor'd quiver from their shoulders hung,

And strongest bows of mighty size they bore.

Next, with resembling arms the Medes are seen,

The Cissians, and Hyrcanians. Media once

From her bleak mountains aw'd the subject East.

Her kings in cold Ecbatana were thron'd.

The Cissians march'd from Susa's regal walls,

From sultry fields o'erspread with branching palms,

And white with lillies, water'd by the tides

Of fam'd Choaspes, whose transparent waves

The golden goblet wafts to Persia's kings.

No other stream the royal lip bedews.

Hyrcania's race forsook their fruitful clime

Dark with the verdure of expanding oaks,

To Ceres dear and Bacchus. There the corn

Bent by its golden burthen sheds unreap'd

Its plenteous seed impregnating the soil

With future harvests; while the bees reside

Among th' intwining branches of the groves,

Where with their labours they enrich the leaves,

Which flow with sweetness. Next, Assyria's sons

Their brazen helms display, th'unskilful work

Of rude Barbarians. Thick-wove flax defends

Their chest and loins. A buckler guards their arm.

Girt with a falchion each a mace sustains

O'erlaid with iron. On Euphrates' banks

In Babylon's stupendous walls they dwell,

And o'er the plains, where once with mightier tow'rs

Old Ninus rear'd its head, th' imperial seat

Of eldest tyrants. These Chaldaea joins,

The land of shepherds. On the pastures wide

There Belus first discern'd the various course

Of heav'n's bright planets, and the clust'ring stars

With names distinguish'd, whence himself was deem'd

The chief of Gods. His heav'n-ascending fane

In Babylon the proud Assyrians rais'd.

Drawn from the fertile soil, which Ochus laves,

The Bactrians stood, like Persia's bands attir'd,

Though less their javelins, and their bows of cane;

The Paricanians next all rough with hides

Of shaggy goats, with bows and daggers arm'd.

Alike in horrid garb the Caspian train

From barren mountains, and the dreary coast,

Which bounds the stormy lake, that bears their name,

With cany bows, and scymetars were led.

The Indians then a threefold band appear'd.

Part guide the horse, and part the rapid car;

The rest on foot within the bending cane

For slaughter held their iron-pointed reeds.

These o'er the Indus from the distant floods

Of Ganges pass'd, and left a region lov'd

By lavish Nature. There the plenteous year

Twice crown'd with harvests smiles. The honey'd shrub,

The cinnamon, and spikenard bless their fields.

Array'd in native wealth the warriours shone.

Their ears were grac'd with pendants, and their hands

Incircled wore a bracelet starr'd with gems.

These were the nations, who to Xerxes sent

Their mingled aids of infantry and horse.

NOW, Muse, recount what numbers yet untold

On foot obscur'd the surface of the shore;

Or who in chariots, or on camels beat

The loosen'd sand. The Parthians first advance,

Then weak in numbers o'er the Malian strand

Far from their lonely vales, and woody hills,

Not yet renown'd for warlike steeds, they trod.

With them the Sogdians, Dadices arrang'd,

Gandarians, and Chorasmians, all attir'd,

Like Bactria's sons. To these the Saces join,

From cold Imaüs drawn, from Oxus' waves,

And Cyra built on Iäxartes' brink,

The bound of Persia's Empire. Wild, untam'd,

And prone to rage, their desarts they forsook.

A bow, a falchion, and a pond'rous ax

The savage legions arm'd. A pointed cask

O'er each grim visage rear'd its iron cone.

In arms, like Persians, the Saranges stood.

High as the knee their buskins stretch'd, and clung

Around their ham. With glowing colours dy'd

Gay shone their varied garments. Next are seen

The Pactyan, Mycian, and the Utian train

In skins of goats, all horrid. Bows they wield

Of springy reed, with poynards at their sides.

With spotted hides of leopards all array'd,

Or with the spoil from tawny lions torn,

In graceful range the Aethiopians stand

Of equal stature, and a beauteous frame;

Though scorching Phoebus had imbrown'd their face,

And curl'd their crisped locks. In ancient song

Renown'd for justice, riches they disdain'd,

As foes to virtue. From their seat remote

On Nilus' verge above th' Aegyptian bound,

Forc'd by their kings' malignity and pride

These friends of hospitality and peace,

Themselves uninjur'd, wag'd reluctant war

Against a land, whose climate, and whose name

To them were strange. With hardest stone they point

The rapid arrow. Bows of hideous length,

Form'd with th'elastic branches of the palm,

They bore, and lances arm'd with horns of goats,

And maces strong with iron. Now, O Muse,

Recite the nations, who in helmets fram'd

Of various parts, and close-connected joints,

With darts, and poynards, shields, and lances weak,

A feeble train, attend their tyrant's will,

All victims destin'd to imbrue with gore

The Grecian spears; the Paphlagonians first

From where Carambis with projected brows

O'erlooks the dusky Euxine wrapt in mists,

And where through flow'rs, that paint its various banks,

Parthenius flows; the Mariandynians next,

The Matienian, and the Ligyan bands,

With them the Syrian multitudes, who dwell

Near Daphne's grove, who cultivate the glebe

Wide-water'd by Orontes, who along

Th' extended ridge of Libanus are nurs'd

Among the cedars, or with foodful dates

Pluckt from the palms, whose fruitage grac'd the plains

Around Damascus: all, who bear the name

Of Cappadocians, swell the Syrian host,

With those who gather from the fragrant shrub

The aromatic balsam, and extract

Its milky juice along the lovely side

Of winding Jordan, till immers'd it sleep

Beneath the pitchy surface, which obscures

Th' Asphaltic lake. The Phrygians then advance.

To them their ancient colony is join'd,

Th' Armenian bands. These see the bursting springs

Of strong Euphrates cleave the yielding earth,

And wide in lakes expanding hide the plain.

Thence with collected waters fierce and deep

Its passage rending through diminish'd rocks

To Babylon it foams. Not so the wave

Of soft Araxes to the Caspian glides.

But stealing imperceptibly it laves

The fruitful herbage of Armenia's meads.

Next, strange to view, in similar attire,

Though far unlike in manners to the Greeks,

Appear the Lydians. Wantonness and sport

Were all their care. Beside Caÿster's stream,

Or smooth Maeander winding silent by,

Or near Pactolus' wave among the vines

Of Tmolus rising, or the wealthy tide

Of golden-sanded Hermus they allure

The sight enchanted with the graceful dance,

Or with melodious sweetness charm the air,

And melt to softest languishment the soul.

What to the battle's danger could incite

These tender sons of luxury? The lash

Of their stern monarch urg'd their shiv'ring limbs

Through all the tempests, which enrag'd the main,

And shook beneath their trembling steps the pile,

That join'd the Asian and the western worlds.

To these Maeonia hot with sulph'rous mines

Unites her troops. No tree adorns their fields

Unbless'd with verdure, and with ashes strewn.

Black are the rocks, and ev'ry hill deform'd

With conflagration. Helmets press'd their brows.

Two darts they brandish'd. Round their woolly vest

A sword was girt, and hairy hides compos'd

Their bucklers round and light. The Mysians left

Olympus wood-envelop'd, and the soil

Wash'd by Caïcus, and the baneful tide

Of Lycus, nurse of serpents. Targets, helms,

And wooden javelins harden'd in the flames

They bore. By these, imbattled next are seen

An ancient nation, who in early times,

By Trojan arms assail'd, their native land

Esteem'd less dear than freedom, and exchang'd

Their seat on Strymon, where in Thrace it pours

Its freezing current, for the distant shores

Of fishy Sangar. These Bithynians nam'd

Their habitations to the sacred feet

Of Dindymus extend. Yet there they groan'd

Beneath oppression, and their freedom mourn'd

On Sangar now, as once on Strymon lost.

The ruddy skins of foxes form'd their cask;

Their shields were fashion'd like the horned moon;

A dart, and slender poynard arm'd their hands;

A vest embrac'd their bodies, while abroad

Ting'd with unnumber'd hues a mantle flow'd.

But other Thracians, who their former name

Retain'd in Asia, stood with shining helms.

The horns of bulls in imitating brass

Adorn'd the lofty crest. Phoenician cloth

Their legs infolds, with brightest purple stain'd;

And through the forest wont to chase the boar,

A hunter's spear they grasp. What nations still

On either side of Xerxes, while he pass'd,

Present their huge array, and swell his soul

With more than mortal pride? The num'rous train

Of Moschians and Macronians now succeed,

And Mosynoecians, who, with berries fed,

In wooden tow'rs along the Pontic shore

Repose their painted limbs; the mirthful race

Of Tibarenians next, whose wanton minds

Delight in sport, and laughter: all in casks

Of wood, with shields, and lances small, whose points

Beyond proportion lengthen. Then approach,

In garments o'er their spacious bosom clasp'd,

And part with javelins, part with Lycian bows,

A people destin'd in eternal verse,

Ev'n thine, sublime Maeonides, to live.

These are the Milyans, Solymi their name

In thy celestial strains, Pifidia's hills

Their dwelling. Once a formidable train,

They fac'd the great Bellerophon in war,

Now doom'd a more tremendous foe to meet,

Themselves unnerv'd with bondage, and to leave

Their putrid bodies for the dogs of Greece.

Next are the Marian legions furnish'd all

With shields of skins, with darts, and helmets wove

Of strongest texture. Aria's host protend

The Bactrian lance, and brace the Persian bow,

Drawn from a region horrid all with thorn,

One hideous waste of sands, which mock the toil

Of patient culture; save one favour'd spot,

Which, like an isle, emerges from the wild,

In verdure clad, and interspers'd with vines,

Whose gen'rous clusters yield a juice, that scorns

The injuries of Time. Yet Nature's hand

Had sown their rocks with coral, and enrich'd

Their desert hills with veins of sapphirs blue,

And those, whose azure sparks of gold adorn.

These from the turbant flame. On ev'ry neck

The coral blushes through the num'rous throng.

The Allarodians, and Sasperian bands

Were arm'd with poniards, like the Cholchian host;

Their heads were guarded with a helm of wood.

Short were their spears, of hides undress'd their shields.

The Cholchians march'd from Phasis, and the shores,

Where once Medea fair enchantress stood,

And wondring view'd the first advent'rous bark,

That stem'd the Pontic foam. From Argo's side

The demigods descended, and repair'd

To her fell sire's inhospitable walls.

His blooming graces Jason there display'd.

With ev'ry art of eloquence divine

He claim'd the golden fleece. The virgin heard,

She gaz'd with fatal ravishment, and lov'd.

Then to the hero she resigns her heart;

Her magic tames the brazen-footed bulls;

She lulls the sleepless dragon, and to Greece

With faithless Jason wafts the radiant prize.

The Cholchians then pursu'd their steps with war,

And now with antient enmity inflam'd,

Or else compell'd by Xerxes to recal

The long-forgotten wrong, they menace Greece

With desolation. Next in Persian guise

A croud advanc'd, who left the various isles

In Persia's gulph, and round Arabia known.

Some in their native topaz were adorn'd,

From Ophiodes, and Topazos sprung;

And some with shells of tortoises, which brood

Around Casitis' verge. To them were join'd

Those, who reside, where Erythras intomb'd

Lies all beset with palms, a pow'rful king,

Who nam'd of old the Erythraean main.

The Lybians next are plac'd. In chariots scyth'd

They sat terrific, cloath'd in skins, with darts

Of wood well-temper'd in the hardning flames.

Not Libya's deserts from tyrannic sway

Could hide her sons; much less could freedom dwell

Amid the plenty of Arabia's fields:

Where spicy cassia, and the fragrant reed,

And myrrh, and hallow'd frankincense perfume

The zephir's wing. A bow of largest size

Th' Arabians wield, and o'er their lucid vest

Loose floats a mantle on their shoulder clasp'd.

Of these two myriads on the lofty back

Of camels rode, that match'd the swiftest horse.

SUCH were the numbers, which from Asia led

Bow'd down with low prostration to the wheels

Of Xerxes' chariot. Yet what legions more

Expand their mighty range? What banners still

The Malian sands o'ershadow? Forward rolls

The regal car through nations, which in arms,

And order'd ranks unlike the eastern throng

Upheld the spear and buckler. Yet untaught

To bend the servile knee erect they stood;

Unless that mourning o'er the shameful weight

Of their new bondage some their brows depress'd,

And stain'd their arms with sorrow. Europe's race

Were these, whom Xerxes by resistless force

Had gather'd to his standards. Murm'ring here

The sons of Thrace, and Macedonia stood,

Here on his steed the brave Thessalian frown'd.

There pin'd reluctant multitudes, who bore

The name of Greeks, and peopled all the coast

Between Byzantium, and the Malian bay.

THROUGH all the numbers, which ador'd his pride,

Or fear'd his pow'r, the monarch now was pass'd;

Nor yet among those myriads could be found

One, who with Xerxes' self in tow'ring size,

Or beauteous features might compare. O wretch!

Possess'd of all, but virtue; doom'd to shew,

How mean without her is unbounded pow'r,

The charm of beauty, and the blaze of state,

How insecure of happiness, how vain.

Thou, who couldst mourn the common lot, which heav'n

From none withholds; which oft to thousands proves

Their only refuge from a tyrant's rage;

And which by pining sickness, age, or pain

Becomes at last a soothing hope to all;

Thou, who couldst weep, that Nature's gentle hand

Should lay her wearied offspring in the tomb,

Yet couldst remorseless from their peaceful seats

Lead half the nations in a clime unknown

To fall the victims of thy ruthless pride;

What didst thou merit from the injur'd world?

What suff'rings to compensate for the tears

Of Asia's mothers, for unpeopled realms,

And all this waste of nature? On his host

The king exulting bends his haughty sight,

When thus to Demaratus he began.

NOW Demaratus to thy soul recal

My father great Darius, who receiv'd

Thy wandring steps expell'd their native home.

Ill would it then become thee to beguile

Thy benefactors, and the truth disguise,

Look back on all those thousands, and declare,

If yonder Grecians will oppose their march.

THE exile answer'd. Deem not mighty lord,

I will deceive thy goodness by a tale

Forg'd for their glory, whose deluded minds

Perversely hearken'd to the sland'rer's tongue;

Who forc'd me with unmerited disgrace

To tread the paths of banishment and woe.

Nor be the king offended, while I speak

The words of truth. The Spartans never fly.

HERE with contemptuous smiles the king return'd.

Wilt thou, who once wert Lacedaemon's chief,

Encounter twenty Persians? Yet those Greeks

With greater disproportion must confront

Our host to-morrow. Demaratus thus.

BY single combat were the tryal vain,

And vainer still by my unworthy sword,

To prove the merit of united force,

Which oft by military skill surmounts

The strength of numbers. Nor in fields of war

The Greeks excel by discipline alone,

But from their manners. Grant thy ear, O king,

The diff'rence learn of Grecian bands, and thine.

The flow'r, the bulwark of thy pow'rful host

Are mercenaries. These are canton'd round

Thy provinces. No fertile field demands

Their painful hand to turn the fallow glebe.

Them to the noon-day toil no harvest calls.

The stubborn oak along the mountains brow

Sinks not beneath their stroke. With careful eyes

They mark not how the flocks, or heifers feed.

To them of wealth, and all possessions void

The name of country with an empty sound

Flies o'er the ear, nor warms their joyless hearts,

Who share no country. Needy, yet with scorn

Rejecting labour, wretched by their wants,

Yet profligate through indolence, with limbs

Soft and enervate, and with minds corrupt;

From misery, debauchery, and sloth

Are these to battle drawn against a foe

Inur'd to hardship, and the child of toil,

Wont through the freezing show'r, and wintry storm

O'er his own glebe the tardy ox to goad;

Or in the sun's impetuous heat to glow

Beneath the burthen of the yellow sheaves:

Whence on himself, on her, whose faithful arms

Infold him joyful, and a num'rous race,

Which glads his dwelling, plenty he bestows

With independence; and when call'd to war

For these his dearest comfort, and his care,

And for the harvest promis'd to his toil,

He lifts the shield, nor shuns unequal force.

Such are the pow'rs of ev'ry state in Greece

One only breeds a race more warlike still,

Ev'n those, who now defend that rocky pass,

The sons of Lacedaemon. They untaught

To break the glebe, or bind the golden sheaves,

To far severer labours are inur'd.

Alone for war, their sole delight, and care.

From infancy to manhood, are they form'd

To want, and danger, to th' unwholesome ground,

To winter watches, and inclement skies,

To plunge through torrents, brave the tusky boar,

To arms, and wounds; an exercise of pain

So fierce and constant, that to them a camp

With all its hardships is the seat of rest,

And war itself remission from their toils.

THY words are folly, scornful here replied

The Persian monarch. Does not freedom dwell

Among the Grecians? Therefore will they shun

Superiour foes, for whosoe'er is free

Will fly from danger; while the Persians know,

If from th' allotted station they retreat,

The scourge awaits them, and my heavy wrath.

CONCEIVE not, Xerxes, Sparta's chief return'd,

The Grecians want an object, where to fix

Their eyes with rev'rence, and obedient dread.

To them more aweful than the name of king

To Asia's trembling millions is the law,

Whose sacred voice injoins them to confront

Unnumber'd foes, to vanquish, or to die.

IN silence now the banish'd king remain'd.

While near the straits the chariot roll'd; it chanc'd,

The Spartans then were station'd out on guard.

These in gymnastic exercise employ'd,

Nor heed the monarch, nor his gaudy train;

But toss'd the spear, and whirl'd the rapid dart,

Or met with adverse shields in single war,

Or trooping swiftly rush'd on ev'ry side

With ranks unbroken, and with equal feet:

While others calm beneath their polish'd helms

Drew down their hair, which hung in sable curls,

And spread their necks with terrour. Xerxes here

The exile questions. What do these intend,

Who thus with careful hands adjust their hair?

TO whom the Spartan. O imperial lord,

Such is their custom, to adorn their heads,

When with determin'd valour they present

Their dauntless breasts before the jaws of death.

Bring down thy myriads all in glitt'ring steel,

Arm, if thou canst, the gen'ral race of man;

All, who possess the regions unexplor'd

Beyond the Ganges, all, whose wand'ring steps

Behind the Caspian range the Scythian wild,

With those, who drink the secret fount of Nile,

Yet to the breasts of Sparta's sons shall fear

Be still a stranger. Thus with fervour spake

The exil'd king, when gushing from his eyes

Resistless grief o'erflow'd his cheek. Aside

His head he turn'd, and wept in copious streams.

The sad remembrance of his former state,

His dignity, his greatness, and the sight

Of those brave ranks, which thus unshaken stood,

And spread amazement through the world in arms,

Excite those sorrows. Oft with eager eyes

He views the godlike warriours, who beneath

His standard once victorious fought, who call'd

Him once their king and leader. Then again

His head he bows with anguish, and bedews

His breast with tears; in agony bemoans

His faded honours, his illustrious name

Forgotten now, his majesty defil'd

With exile and dependence. So obscur'd

By creeping ivy, and by sordid moss

Some lordly palace, or stupendous fane,

Magnificent in ruin stands; where time

Wide-wasting from the nodding roof hath mow'd

The column down, and cleft the pond'rous dome.

NOT unobserv'd by Hyperanthes mourn'd

Th' unhappy Spartan. Kindly to his own

Th' exile's hand he joins, and thus humane.

O Demaratus, this thy grief confirms,

How well the Greeks deserve thy gen'rous praise,

Who still repining dost their loss deplore,

Though cherish'd here with universal love.

But O let indignation in thy breast

Revive thy wrongs! then bless th' auspicious fate,

Which led thee far from calumny and fraud

To share the favour of the highest king.

AS Demaratus with a grateful mind

Address'd himself to answer, Persia's king

Thus interrupted. Soon, as morning shines,

Do thou Tigranes and Phraortes head

The Medes and Saces. Bring those Grecians bound.

This said. The monarch to his tent return'd.

End of the Third Book.

LEONIDAS. BOOK IV.

The argument.

Leonidas rising by break of day commands a body of Arcadians, with the Thespians, and Plataeans to be drawn out for battle in that part of Thermopylae, which lay under the Phocian wall, from whence he harangues them. The enemy approaches. Diomedon kills Tigranes in single combat. Both armies join battle. Dithyrambus kills Phraortes. The Persians, entirely defeated, are pursued with great slaughter by Diomedon and Dithyrambus to the extremity of the pass. The Grecian commanders, after the pursuit retire for refreshment to a cave in the side of mount Oeta. Leonidas recals them to the camp, and sends down fresh forces. Diomedon, and Dithyrambus, with the Plataeans are permitted to continue in the field. By the advice of Diomedon the Grecians advance to the broadest part of Thermopylae, where they form a line of thirty in depth, consisting of the Plataeans, Mantinéans, Tegaeans, Thebans, Corinthians, Phliasians, and Mycenaeans. The attack is renew'd with great violence by Hyperanthes, Abrocomes, and the principal Persian leaders at the head of some chosen troops.

LACONIA's leader with the morning rose,

When thus to Alpheus. From Arcadia's bands

Select a thousand spears. To these unite

The Thespians and Plataeans. Range their lines

Before the wall, which fortifies the pass:

There close-imbodied will their might repulse

The num'rous foe. Obedient to his will

Th' appointed legions issuing from their tents

With deep'ning ranks Leonidas inclose.

So round their monarch in his stormy cave

The winds assemble, from his sable throne

When Aeolus sends forth his dread command

To swell the main, or heav'n with clouds deform,

Or bend the forest from the mountain's brow.

The chief of Sparta from the rampart's height

Thus to the fight the list'ning host inflames.

THIS day, O Grecians, countrymen, and friends,

Your wives, your offspring, your paternal seats,

Your fathers, country, liberty, and laws

Have sent you hither, from your infant age

Vers'd in the various discipline of Mars,

Laborious, active, virtuous, brave, and free,

To match your valour with ignoble foes

In war unskilful, nature's basest dross,

The foes of all utility and worth,

And thence a monarch's mercenary slaves;

With spirits broke by servitude and want,

With limbs relax'd by sloth, and wanton ease,

With minds debauch'd by vices, uninspir'd

By all th'indearing cares in free-born hearts,

Who cold and drooping fight without a cause,

To whom defeat is neither grief, nor shame,

Who seek no fruit from victory, but spoil.

These are the flow'r of Asia's host. The rest,

Who fill their boasted numbers, are a croud

Forc'd from their dwellings to the bloody field,

From whom till now with jealous care their lord

Has still withheld the instruments of war.

These are the people taught with patient grief

To bear the rapine, cruelty, and spurns

Of Xerxes' mercenary bands, and pine

In servitude to slaves. With terrour sounds

The trumpet's clangor in their trembling ears.

Unwonted loads, the buckler and the lance

Their hands sustain incumber'd, and present

The mockery of war.—But ev'ry eye

Flames with impatient ardour, and your breasts

Too long their swelling spirit have confin'd.

Go then, ye sons of Liberty, and sweep

These bondmen from the field. Resistless rend

The glitt'ring standard from their servile hands.

Hurl to the ground their ignominious heads

The warriour's helm profaning. Think the shades

Of your forefathers rear their sacred brows

Here to enjoy the glory of their sons.

HE spake. Loud Paeans burst from all the host.

With fierce reply unnumber'd shouts ascend

From hostile nations thronging down the pass.

Such is the roar of Aetna, when her mouth

Displodes combustion from her sulph'rous depths,

And blasts the smiles of Nature. Dauntless stood

In deep array before the Phocian wall

The Greeks close-wedg'd with implicated shields,

And spears protended, like the graceful range

Of arduous elms, whose interwoven boughs

Before some rural palace wide expand

Their venerable umbrage to retard

The North's impetuous wing. As o'er the main

In lucid rows the rising waves reflect

The sun's effulgence, so the Grecian helms

Return'd his light, which o'er their convex pour'd,

And scatter'd splendour on the dancing plumes.

Down rush'd the foe. Exulting in the van

Their haughty leader shakes his threatning lance,

And frowns defiance. Bursting from his rank

Diomedon with instant fury fac'd

Th' impending foes. Meantime he loudly calls

Their chief Tigranes, whom he thus defies.

NOW thou art met, Barbarian. Wouldst thou prove

Thy actions equal to thy vaunts, command

Thy troops to halt, while thou and I engage.

TIGRANES turning to the Persians spake.

My friends, and soldiers, check your ardent haste,

While my strong lance yon Grecian's pride confounds.

HE ceas'd. In dreadful opposition now

Each combatant advanc'd. With sinewy hand

They gripe their spears high-brandish'd. Thrice they drove

With well-directed force the pointed steel

At either's throat, and thrice their shields repel

The destin'd wound. At length the Eastern chief

With all his pow'rs collected for the stroke

His javelin rivets in the Grecian targe.

Aside Diomedon inclines, and shuns

Approaching fate. Then all his martial skill

Undaunted summons. His forsaken lance

Beside him cast, his falchion he unsheaths.

The blade descending on Tigranes' arm,

That instant struggling to redeem his spear,

The shiv'ring hand dissevers. Pale affright

Unmans the Persian, while his active foe

Full on his neck discharg'd the rapid sword,

And open'd wide the purple gates of life.

Low sinks Tigranes in eternal shade.

The conqueror bestrides the prostrate dead,

Then in the clotted ringlets of the hair

His hand intwining from the bleeding trunk

The head disjoin'd, and whirl'd with sudden rage

Amid the hostile numbers. All with dread

Recoil, where'er the ghastly visage flew

In sanguine circles, and pursu'd its track

Of horrour through the air. Not less amaz'd

A barb'rous nation, whom the chearful dawn

Of science ne'er illumin'd, view on high

A meteor waving with portentous blaze;

Where oft, as superstition vainly dreams,

Some daemon sits amid the baneful fires,

Dispersing plagues and desolation round.

A while the stern Diomedon remains

Triumphant o'er the dire dismay, which froze

The hearts of Persia, then with haughty port,

And sullen joy among his gladsome friends

Resumes his station. Still the Asian bands

With consternation motionless behold

Their foes with terrour, and suspend the fight;

When thus Phraortes animates their breasts.

HEAV'NS! can one leader's death appal this host,

Which counts a train of monarchs for its chiefs!

Behold Phraortes! from Imaüs' ridge

I draw my subject files. With hardy toil

I through the pathless forest have explor'd

The tiger's cavern. This unconquer'd arm

Hath from the lion rent the shaggy spoil.

So through this field of slaughter will I chase

Yon vaunting Greek with ruin on his head

For great Tigranes slain. His words revive

The flame of valour through the drooping van,

Then on the rear he brandishes his lance.

Before him shrink th' affrighted croud, and roll

Their numbers headlong on the Grecian steel

With loose arrangement, and uncertain feet.

Thus with his trident Ocean's angry God

From its vast bottom turns the hideous mass

Of waters upward, and o'erwhelms the beach.

Terrific stood the fierce Plataean chief

Amid the Grecian van. His ample targe,

Like a strong bulwark, prominent he rais'd

Before the line. There thunder'd all the storm

Of darts and arrows. His undaunted train

With emulating ardour charge the foe.

Where'er they turn the formidable spears,

Which drench'd the glebe of Marathon with gore,

The Persians heap the plain. Diomedon

Leads on the slaughter. From his nodding crest

The sable plumes shook terrour. Asia's bands

All shudder backward at the dreadful beams

Of that unconquerable sword, which falls

With lightning's swiftness o'er their trembling heads,

And reeking still with slain Tigranes' blood

Their shatter'd ranks o'erturns. The furious chief

Incompass'd round with carnage, and besmear'd

With sanguine drops, inflames his warlike friends.

O DITHYRAMBUS! let thy deeds this day

Surmount their wonted lustre! Thou in arms,

Demophilus, worn grey, thy youth recal!

Behold these slaves without resistance bleed.

Advance, my ancient friend. Propitious Fame

Smiles on thy years, and gives thy aged hand

To pluck fresh laurels for thy honour'd brow.

AS, when indu'd with Promethéan heat,

The molten clay respir'd; with sudden warmth

So glows the venerable Thespian's age,

With new-born vigour ev'ry sinew swells.

His falchion thund'ring on Cherasmes' helm

The forehead clove. Ecbatana to war

Sent forth Cherasmes. From her potent gates

He proud in hope her swarming numbers led,

With Ariazus and Pencestes join'd,

His martial brothers. They attend his doom

By Dithyrambus foil'd. Their hoary sire

Shall o'er his solitary palace roam,

Lamenting loud his childless years, and curse

Ambition's fury, and the lust of war,

Then pining bow with anguish to the grave.

Next by the fierce Plataean's matchless sword

Expires Damates, once the host and friend

Of fall'n Tigranes; him that day he join'd,

And left his native bands. Of Syrian birth

In Daphne he resided near the grove,

Whose hospitable laurels in their shade

Conceal'd the virgin fugitive, that scorn'd

Th' embrace of Phoebus; hither she repair'd

Far from her parent stream, in fables feign'd

Herself a laurel to have rear'd her head

With verdant bloom in this retreat, the grove

Of Daphne call'd, the seat of rural bliss,

Fan'd by the wing of zephirs, and with rills

Of bubbling founts irriguous, Syria's boast,

And happy rival of Thessalia's vale;

Now hid for ever from Damates' eyes.

Nor with unactive spears th' Arcadians stood.

Gigantic Clonius unresisted press'd

The yielding Persians, who before him sunk,

Crush'd like vile stubble underneath the steps

Of some glad hind, who visits o'er the plain

His new-shorn harvest. With a fearless eye

Phraortes saw the gen'ral rout. He sprung

O'er hills of carnage to confront the Greeks,

Reproaching thus his own inglorious friends.

FLY then ye cowards, and desert your chief;

Yet single here my falchion shall oppose

The might of thousands. Raging thus, he drove

The deathful steel through Aristander's breast.

Him Dithyrambus lov'd, a sacred bard

Rever'd for justice, for his verse renown'd,

Which sung the deeds of heroes, those, who fell,

Or those, who conquer'd in their country's cause,

Th' inraptur'd soul inspiring with the thirst

Of glory won by virtue. His high strain

The Muses favour'd from their neighb'ring groves,

And bless'd with heav'nly melody his lyre.

No more from Thespia shall his feet ascend

The shady steep of Helicon. No more

The streams divine of Aganippe's fount

His tuneful lip shall moisten, nor his hands

Present their off'rings in the Muses bow'r,

The prostrate shield and unforsaken lance

Now feebly grasping, never more to swell

His lofty numbers on the sounding string.

Lo! Dithyrambus weeps. Amid the rage

Of war and conquest a swift-gushing tear

Finds one sad moment's interval to fall

On his pale friend. But soon the victor proves

His fierce revenge. Through shield and corselet plung'd,

His furious javelin tore the Persian's chest.

Phraortes sinks, nor yet expiring, sees

With indignation Persia's myriads fly.

Swift through their broken legions, side by side,

Urg'd by the voice of Victory and Fame,

Diomedon and Dithyrambus rang'd.

So, where Alphéus heard the rattling car,

And sounding hoofs along his echoing banks,

Two gen'rous coursers link'd in mutual reins

With equal speed and ardour beat the dust

To reach the glories of th' Olympic goal.

THIS from his lofty chariot Xerxes saw.

He saw his numbers pouring from the straits

In crouded flight, then spreading o'er the field,

All broke and scatter'd; as a river bursts

Impetuous from its fountain, then expands

Its limpid surface o'er the pastures broad.

Thrice started from his seat th' astonish'd king,

Shame, fear, and indignation rend his breast;

As ruin irresistible were near

To overwhelm his millions. Haste (he calls

To Hyperanthes) haste and meet the Greeks;

Their daring rage and insolence repel,

And from dishonour vindicate our name.

THE godlike Hyperanthes through the tents

Obedient moves. Deliberate and brave

Each active prince he summons, and with care

Collects the hardiest troops. Around him soon

Innumerable javelins flame. His voice

Demands attention, when he thus began.

NOW friends divide, and form two equal bands.

One with the great Abrocomes, with me,

With Intaphernes, and Hydarnes bold,

With Mindus and Pandates shall advance,

And snatch this short-liv'd victory from Greece.

You Abradates with Pharnuchus join'd,

Orontes, and Mazaeus, keep the rest

Imbattel'd ready to impart their aid,

Shou'd envious Fate exhaust our num'rous ranks;

For, O great Mithra, may thy radiant eye

Ne'er see us, yielding to ignoble flight,

The Persian fame dishonour, and the praise

Of our renown'd progenitors, who led

By Cyrus gave a monarch to the world.

Think, O ye princes, flow'r of Asia's realms,

What endless infamy will blast your names,

Should Greece, that narrow portion of the globe,

Your arms defy; when Babylon hath low'r'd

Its tow'ring head, when Lydia's pride is quell'd,

And from Ecbatana its empire torn.

Think too, ye warlike bands, our army's boast,

What deeds are ask'd from your superiour swords;

You, who our monarch's largest bounty share,

You, to whose faith and valour he commits

Himself, his queens, his realms, and now his fame.

WHILE Hyperanthes marshall'd thus his host,

Far as th' extremest limit of the pass,

Diomedon and Dithyrambus hung

Upon the rear of Persia. Now they turn

Victorious, striding o'er th' impurpled heaps

Of arms, and mangled dead, themselves with gore

Distain'd; like two grim tigers, who have forc'd

A nightly mansion on the desart rais'd

By some lone-wandring traveller, and dy'd

With human slaughter through the forest deep

Back to their covert's dreary gloom retire.

So pass'd these heroes o'er the crimson rock,

Approaching now, where gasping on his shield

Phraortes lay recumbent. Thespia's youth

Advancing, thus his gen'rous soul express'd.

LIV'ST thou, brave Persian? By propitious Jove,

From whom the pleasing sense of mercy flows

Through mortal bosoms, less my soul rejoic'd,

When Fortune gave the victory before

Than now to raise thee from this field of death.

THE dying prince his languid sight unclos'd,

And thus with trembling lips. Vain man, forbear

To proffer me, what soon thyself must crave.

The day is now extinguish'd in these orbs,

Nor shall my heart beat longer than to scorn

Thy mercy, Grecian; then resign to fate.

HE ceas'd. The great, and haughty spirit fled.

Demophilus drew nigh. The hoary chief

Long o'er Phraortes' corse his head inclin'd,

Poiz'd on his lance, and thus address'd the slain.

ALAS! how glorious were that bleeding breast,

Had Justice giv'n the buckler to thy arm,

And to preserve a people bade thee die!

Who now shall mourn thee! Thy ungrateful king

Will soon forget thy worth. For thee no tears

Among thy native countrymen shall tell

The public sorrow; what to them avail'd

Thy might and dauntless spirit? Not to guard

Their wives and offspring from the spoil of war,

Not from their walls repel the hostile blaze,

Nor desolation from their fruitful fields,

But to extend oppression didst thou fall;

Perhaps with inborn virtues in thy heart,

Which, but thy angry destiny forbade,

By freedom cherish'd might have bless'd mankind.

All-bounteous Nature! thy impartial laws

To no selected race of men confine

The sense of glory, fortitude, and all

The nobler passions, which inspire the mind,

And render life illustrious. These thou plant'st

In ev'ry soil. But freedom, like the sun,

Must warm the gen'rous seeds. By her alone

They bloom and flourish; while oppression blasts

The tender virtues: hence a spurious growth,

False honour, savage valour taint the soul,

And wild ambition: hence rapacious pow'r

The ravag'd earth unpeoples, and the brave,

A feast for dogs, bestrew th' insanguin'd plain,

HE said. Around the venerable man

The Grecians throng'd attentive. Conquest hush'd

Its joyful transports. O'er the horrid field,

Late the rude scene of tumult, all was calm.

So, when the song of Thracian Orpheus drew

To Hebrus' margin from their dreary seats

The savage race, which Haemus wrapt in clouds,

Pangaeus cold, and Rhodopeian snows

In blood and discord nurs'd; the soothing strain

Flow'd with enchantment through their ravish'd ears:

Their fierceness melted, and amaz'd they learn'd

The sacred laws of justice, which the bard

Mix'd with the musick of his heav'nly string.

NOT from the field of slaughter far remote

In Oeta's rugged side had Nature clove

A rocky cavern. This with moss she spread,

And o'er the entrance downward from the roots

She hung the shaggy trunks of branching firrs

To heav'n's hot ray impervious. From the sides

The vivid laurel spread before the sun

Its broad and glitt'ring foliage; and, above,

The hill was darken'd with a solemn shade

Cast from the sable cypress. This retreat

Cool, as the grot of Thetis, hid beneath

The vaulted ocean, with the murm'ring sound

Of waters trickling from the riven stone

The Grecian leaders to its gloom invites.

Their helms they loosen, from their glowing cheeks.

Against the rock their bucklers they repose.

Propt on their spears they stood, when Agis thus,

Sent by Leonidas, accosts the chiefs.

O EVER-WORTHY of undying names!

Leonidas recals you from your toil,

Which has already fill'd our mouths with praise,

Our eyes with wonder, that from yonder tow'r

On your unequall'd deeds incessant gaz'd.

TO whom the bold Diomedon return'd.

Go Agis, say to Lacedaemon's king,

As yet untir'd my hand can poize the spear,

Nor hangs the buckler heavy on my arm.

And shall I then retire? And once again

Shall not the sun, before he sink, behold

The slaves of Xerxes tremble at my lance.

TO him the Thespian youth. My friend and guide

To noble actions, since thy gen'rous mind

Intent on fame disdains to rest, O grant,

I too thy glorious labours may partake,

And learn once more to imitate thy deeds.

Thou, gentlest Agis, Sparta's chief intreat

Not to command us from the field of war.

THEN interpos'd Demophilus. O friend,

And thou, lov'd offspring of the dearest man,

Who dost restore my brother to my eyes,

My soul your magnanimity applauds.

But, O reflect, that unabating toil

Subdues the mightiest. Valour then will sigh,

When the weak hand obeys the heart no more.

Yet I declining with the weight of years

Will not assign a measure to your strength;

If still you find your vigour undecay'd,

Stay and augment your glory. So, when time

Your heads shall whiten, and your feeble arms

Round the high temple's peaceful vault have hung

Their consecrated shields, your native land

Shall then with honours doubled on your age

Requite the gen'rous labours of your prime.

So spake the Senior, and forsook the cave.

NOW from the bubbling spring Diomedon

Receives the waters in his concave helm;

And thus address'd the genius of the flood.

WHOE'ER thou art, whose deity presides

O'er this fair fountain, bounteous are thy streams;

Though ill shall I repay thee: for again

Will I this day pollute thy silver wave,

Which mix'd with gore shall tinge the Malian surge.

SO saying from his brimming cask he quaff'd

The clear, refreshing moisture. Thus repairs

The spotted panther to Hydaspes' side,

Or eastern Indus, feasted with the blood

Of some torn deer, which nigh his cruel grasp

Had roam'd unheeding through the secret grove:

Rapacious o'er the humid brink he stoops,

And in the pure and fluid crystal cools

His reeking jaws. The Thespian warriour here.

SEE, valiant friend, Leonidas hath fill'd

The pass with fresh battalions. O survey

Yon line of plumed helms, and glitt'ring shields,

Which emulate the mid-day sun. What joy!

What ardent hope enlightens ev'ry face!

O let us wait no longer, lest they cry,

Our wearied limbs retard us. Let us arm,

And take our station in the glorious van.

THUS Dithyrambus. The Plataean chief

Approves the counsel, and resumes his arms.

Them as a splendid recompense he bore

From grateful Athens, when his conqu'ring sword

Her domes with great Miltiades redeem'd

From Asiatic flames. Th' insculptur'd helm

Now press'd his manly temples. From on high

A fourfold plumage nodded, and, beneath,

A golden dragon with effulgent scales

The gorgeous crest illumin'd. On his arm

His shield he brac'd. Gorgonian serpents twin'd

Around the spacious verge. Within, the form

Of Pallas, martial goddess, was impress'd.

Low, as her feet, the graceful tunic flow'd.

Betwixt two gryffins on her helmet sat

A sphinx with wings expanded, while the face

Of dire Medusa on her bosom frown'd.

One hand supports her javelin, which confounds

The pride of kings; the other leads along

A blooming virgin, Victory, whose brows

A crown incircles; laurels she presents;

But from her shoulders all her plumes were shorn,

With favour'd Athens ever now to rest.

This, Asia's terrour, on his mighty arm

Diomedon uprear'd, then snatch'd his lance,

And thus to Dithyrambus. Lo! my friend,

Alone of all the Grecians, who sustain'd

The morning's battle, still unwearied stand

Plataea's sons, and well may keep the field,

They, who endur'd the Marathonian toil.

Then charge with us. Amid the foremost rank

Thy valour shall be plac'd, and share, this day,

Command and honour with Plataea's chief.

THE hero ceas'd, and tow'rd the Grecian van

Strides with impetuous steps. Nor slow behind

The boast of Thespia, Dithyrambus mov'd;

Like blooming Hermes in celestial arms,

When lightly graceful with his feather'd feet

Along Scamander's flow'ry verge he pass'd,

To aid th' incens'd divinities of Greece

Against the Phrygian tow'rs. With eager speed

The heroes soon th' imbattled Greeks attain'd,

To whom the brave Diomedon began.

NOT to contend, but vanquish are you come,

And in the blood of fugitives to stain

Your lances unoppos'd. My friends, behold,

Where furthest from the Malian gulf remov'd

The crags of Oeta less confine the straits.

There let us bend extending wide our front.

There with more ample scope may havoc range.

ALL with assent gave ear. The various bands

Move on successive. The Plataeans first

Against the rock are station'd. To their head

Is Dithyrambus brought. Exulting joy

Distends their hearts, and flashes in their eyes.

Thanks to the great Diomedon, they cry,

Who to our troop this godlike hero joins.

Hail! Dithyrambus. Hail! illustrious chief.

Well dost thou merit to have reap'd renown

At Marathon. Amid the glorious front

With conscious gladness blushing on his cheek

The youth his post assumes. Around him croud

The hoary warriours their unnumber'd scars

Before his sight presenting, and recount

Their various dangers. He their wounds surveys

With veneration, nor disdains to hear

The oft-repeated tale. From Sparta's king

Returning, Agis here the chiefs address'd,

Leonidas permits you still to brave

The hostile numbers, with Plataea's band,

If yet by toil unconquer'd. But I see,

That all unwearied ask the promis'd fight.

Hail! glorious veterans. This signal day

May your victorious swords augment the wreaths

Around your venerable brows, and make

Thermopylae, like Marathon, renown'd.

THIS said, he hastens back. Meantime advanc'd

The Mantinéan Diophantus brave,

And Hegesander, Tegea's dauntless chief,

With all their troops imbattled; by their side

The Thebans form; to them their native files

Alcmaeon and Eupalamus unite;

Last on the margin of the Malian bay

Mycenae's youth Aristobulus drew;

In one impenetrable phalanx stretch'd

Across the pass. With close-connected force

An hundred warriours form'd th' expanded ranks,

And thirty bucklers ev'ry file condens'd.

In strong reserve Dieneces behind

Dispos'd the Spartans, and the Locrian line.

There too with Maron Alpheus dauntless stood,

And godlike Agis. There Megistias plac'd

His blooming heir, and thus his valour fires.

O MENALIPPUS! born of foreign race,

Yet by these heroes not unworthy deem'd

With them to fight for Sparta! lo! the hour

Is come, my son, to shew thy gen'rous heart;

That not with thee the buckler and the spear

Are ill intrusted to maintain a cause

So great and sacred. O remember well,

Leonidas on yonder bulwark stands,

Who all the war contemplates, and discerns

The bold and fearful. O propitious heav'n!

Grant me to hear Leonidas this day

Applaud my son, and let Megistias die!

WHILE thus he spake, the animated soul

Of Menalippus struggling in his breast

Demands the fight. This saw the tender sire,

And thus with tears rejoin'd. Remember too!

Thy father sees thy danger. Oh! my child!

To me thy honour as to thee is dear;

Yet court not death! By all thy filial love,

By all my cares and fondness I implore!

Amid the combat, or the warm pursuit,

Still by the wise Dieneces abide:

His prudent valour knows th' unerring paths

Of glory; he will guide thy youthful steps.

This said, to Sparta's leader he retires.

NOW are the enemies descried. The van

Abrocomes and Hyperanthes led,

With them Pandates, Intaphernes proud,

Hydarnes, Mindus. Violent their march

With sounding footsteps swept the stony way.

So, where th' unequal globe in mountains swells,

A river pours its thund'ring surge between

The steep-erected cliffs; tumultuous roll

The torrents bursting o'er the pointed crags:

The mountains roar, the marble channel foams.

With obvious arms th' intrepid Greeks withstand

The dire encounter. Soon th' impetuous shock

Of thousands and of myriads shakes the ground.

Stupendous scene of terrour! Under hills,

Whose nodding summits vaulted o'er their heads,

In unextinguishable fury join'd

The dreadful conflict. With inverted trunks

Obliquely bending from the shagged ridge

The sylvan horrours overshade the fight.

The shrill-mouth'd trumpet, and the deep-tun'd horn,

Mix'd with the crash of intermingling spears,

The clanging shields, and war's discordant shouts

Awake the echoes through the neighb'ring groves;

And rocks and shores return the hideous sound.

End of the Fourth Book.

LEONIDAS. BOOK V.

The argument.

Hyperanthes discontinuing the fight, while he waits for reinforcements, Teribazus, a Persian remarkable for his merit and learning, and highly belov'd by Hyperanthes, but unhappy in his passion for Ariana, a daughter of Darius, advances from the rest of the army to the rescue of a friend in distress, who lay wounded on the field of battle. Teribazus, is attack'd by Diophantus, the Mantinéan, whom he overcomes, then engaging with Dithyrambus, is himself slain. Hyperanthes hastens to his succour. A general battle ensues. Hyperanthes and Abrocomes, partly by their own valour, and partly by the perfidy of the Thebans, who desert the line, being on the point of forcing the Grecians, are repuls'd by the Lacedaemonians. Hyperanthes composes a select body out of the Persian standing forces, and making an improvement in their discipline renews the attack; upon which Leonidas changes the disposition of his army: Hyperanthes and the ablest Persian generals are driven out of the field, and several thousands of the Barbarians, circumvented in the pass, are entirely destroy'd.

AMID the van of Persia was a youth

Nam'd Teribazus, not for golden stores,

Not for wide pastures travers'd o'er with herds,

With bleating thousands, or with bounding steeds,

Nor yet for pow'r, nor splendid honours fam'd.

Rich was his mind in ev'ry art divine,

And through the paths of science had he walk'd

The votary of wisdom. In the years,

When tender down invests the ruddy cheek,

He with the Magi turn'd the hallow'd page

Of Zoroastres; then his tow'ring soul

High on the plumes of contemplation soar'd,

And from the lofty Babylonian fane

With learn'd Chaldaeans trac'd the mystic sphere;

There number'd o'er the vivid fires, that gleam

Upon the dusky bosom of the night.

Nor on the sands of Ganges were unheard

The Indian sages, from sequester'd bow'rs

While, as attention wonder'd, they disclos'd

The pow'rs of nature; whether in the woods,

The fruitful glebe, or flow'r, or healing plant,

The limpid waters, or the ambient air,

Or in the purer element of fire.

The fertile plains, where great Sesostris reign'd,

Mysterious Aegypt next the youth survey'd,

From Elephantis, where impetuous Nile

Precipitates his waters, to the sea,

Which far below receives the sev'nfold stream.

Thence o'er th' Ionic coast he stray'd, nor pass'd

Milétus by, which once inraptur'd heard

The tongue of Thales, nor Priene's walls,

Where Wisdom dwelt with Bias, nor the seat

Of Pittacus along the Lesbian shore.

Here too melodious numbers charm'd his ear,

Which flow'd from Orpheus, and Musaeus old,

And thee, O father of immortal verse,

Maeonides, whose strains through ev'ry age

Time with his own eternal lip shall sing.

Back to his native Susa then he turn'd

His wandring steps. His merit soon was dear

To Hyperanthes generous and good.

And Ariana from Darius sprung

With Hyperanthes, of th' imperial race,

Which rul'd th' extent of Asia, in disdain

Of all her greatness oft an humble ear

To him would bend, and listen to his voice.

Her charms, her mind, her virtue he explor'd

Admiring. Soon was admiration chang'd

To love, nor lov'd he sooner, than despair'd.

But unreveal'd and silent was his pain;

Nor yet in solitary shades he roam'd,

Nor shun'd resort: but o'er his sorrows cast

A sickly dawn of gladness, and in smiles

Conceal'd his anguish; while the secret flame

Rag'd in his bosom, and its peace consum'd:

His heart still brooding o'er these mournful thoughts.

CAN I, O wisdom, seek relief from thee,

Who dost approve my passion? From the pow'r

Of beauty only thou wouldst guard my heart.

But here thyself art charm'd, where softness, grace,

And ev'ry virtue dignify desire;

Yet thus to love despairing is to prove

The sharpest sorrow, which relentless Fate

Can from her store of woes inflict on life:

But dost not thou this moment warn my soul

To fly the fatal charmer? Do I pause?

Back to the wise Chaldaeans will I go,

Or wander on the Ganges; where to heav'n

With thee my elevated soul shall tow'r,

With thee the secrets of the earth unveil.

There no tumultuous passion shall molest

My tranquil hours, and ev'ry thought be calm.

O wretched Teribazus! all conspires

Against thy peace. Our mighty lord prepares

To overwhelm the Grecians. Ev'ry youth

Attends the war, and I, who late have poiz'd

With no inglorious arm the soldier's lance,

And near the side of Hyperanthes fought,

Must join the throng. How therefore can I fly

From Ariana! who with Asia's queens

The splendid camp of Xerxes will adorn.

Then be it so. Again I will adore

Her gentle virtue. Her delightful tongue,

Her graceful sweetness shall again diffuse

Resistless magic through my ravish'd heart;

And thus when love with double rage inflam'd

Swells to distraction in my tortur'd breast,

Then—But in vain through darkness do I search

My fate: despair and fortune be my guides.

THE hour arriv'd, when Xerxes first advanc'd

His arms from Susa's gates. The Persian dames

(So were accustom'd all the eastern fair)

In sumptuous cars accompanied his march;

And Ariana grac'd the beauteous train.

From morn till ev'ning Teribazus guards

Her passing wheels; his arm her weight sustains

With trembling pleasure often, as she mounts

Th' imperial chariot; his assiduous hand

From each pure fountain wafts the living flood:

Nor seldom by the fair-one's soft command

Would he repose him at her feet reclin'd,

While o'er his lips her lovely forehead bow'd

Won with his grateful eloquence, that sooth'd

With sweet variety the tedious march,

Beguiling time. He too would then forget

His cares awhile, in raptures vain intranc'd,

Delusion all, and fleeting rays of joy

Soon overcast with more intense despair;

Like wintry clouds, which op'ning for a time

Tinge their black skirts with scatter'd beams of day;

Then swiftly closing, on the brows of Morn

Condense their horrours, and in thickest gloom

The ruddy beauty veil. Such woes oppress'd

The Persian's heart, not soften'd; for this day

His daring valour from the bleeding van

Oppos'd the frown of adamantine Mars.

With no tiara were his temples bound,

The slender lance of Asia he disdain'd,

And her light target. Eminent he mov'd

In Grecian arms the wonder of his foes.

Among th' Ionians had his strenuous limbs

In war been practic'd. A resplendent cask

Flam'd on his head. Before his face and chest

Down to the knees his ample shield was spread.

A pond'rous ash with skillful hands he grasp'd.

Thus arm'd, tremendous in the front he stood.

Beneath his might two bold Phliasians died,

And three Tegeans, whose indignant chief,

Brave Hegesander, vengeance breath'd in vain

With streaming wounds repuls'd. Thus far unmatch'd

His strength prevail'd, when Hyperanthes' voice

Recall'd his fainting legions. Now each band

Their languid courage reinforc'd with rest.

Meantime with Teribazus thus confer'd

The godlike prince. Thou much-deserving youth!

O had thy deeds with emulation warm'd

The frozen hearts of Persia, Greece had wept

Her prostrate ranks, not triumph'd in our shame.

Relaxing now the wearied fight I wait,

Till from the camp with Abradates strong

The brave Pharnuchus and Mazaeus move,

And with fresh pow'rs renew the drooping war.

For since surpass'd in valour, we must waste

By endless numbers, and continual toil

The matchless ardour of our gallant foes.

HE said. Immers'd in sadness scarce replied,

But to himself thus plain'd the am'rous youth.

STILL do I languish mourning o'er the fame,

My arm acquires. O wretched heart! thou seat

Of constant sorrow, what deceitful smiles

Yet canst thou borrow from illusive hope

To flatter life. At Ariana's feet

What if with supplicating knees I bow'd,

Implor'd her pity, and reveal'd my love?

Wretch, canst thou climb to yon effulgent orb,

And share the splendours which irradiate heav'n?

Dost thou aspire to that exalted maid,

Great Xerxes' sister, rivalling the hopes

Of Asia's purpled potentates and kings?

Unless within her bosom I inspir'd

A passion fervent as my own, nay more,

Such as might dissipate each virgin fear,

And unrestrain'd disclose its fond desire,

My hopes are fruitless. Plung'd in black despair

He thus revolv'd, when suddenly the cries

Of Aribaeus smote his pensive ear.

By mutual danger, and by friendship join'd,

They had been long companions in the toils

Of war. Together with victorious steps

The sons of Nile they chas'd, when Aegypt's pride

Before the arms of Hyperanthes fell.

Stretch'd on the plain, and cover'd o'er with wounds,

By all abandon'd, Teribazus views

His gallant friend. His languid soul awakes,

And forth he issues from the Persian line.

The bleeding warriour in his strong embrace

Swift he conveys. By indignation fir'd

Fierce from the Grecians Diophantus rush'd

With loud defiance. Teribazus leaves

His rescu'd friend. His massy targe he rears,

Advances high his formidable spear,

And turns intrepid on th' approaching foe.

Amazement follow'd. On he strode, and shook

The plumed honours of his shining crest.

Th' ill-fated Greek awaits th' unequal fight;

Pierc'd in the throat with sounding arms he falls;

Through ev'ry band the Mantinéans mourn.

Upon the slain the victor fix'd his sight,

And thus reflected. By thy splendid arms

Thou art a Greek of no ignoble rank,

And from thy fall perhaps am I adorn'd

With more conspicuous lustre. What if heav'n

Should add new victims, like thyself, to grace

My undeserving hand, who knows, but she

Might smile upon my trophies. Oh! vain thought!

Disperse ye fantome hopes! Too long, my heart,

Hast thou in vain contended with thy woes!

I stand this moment on the verge of life,

By fame invited, by despair impell'd

To pass th' irremeable bound. No more

Shall Teribazus backward turn his steps,

But here decide his fate. Then beat no more,

Thou troubled heart, and ev'ry grief be still

Now at th' approach of everlasting peace.

HE ended, when a mighty foe drew nigh;

Not less than Dithyrambus. E'er they join'd,

The Persian thus the Thespian youth address'd.

SAY, art not thou th' unconquerable Greek,

Whose dauntless valour mow'd our battle down,

And scatter'd nations? To attempt thy force

This day I purpos'd, when our chiefs from fight

Their host withdrew? That now my single arm

Thou deign'st to meet, receive my thanks; and know,

The thought of conquest less employs my mind,

Than that by thee I cannot fall with shame.

HE ceas'd. These words the Thespian chief return'd.

Of all the praises from thy gen'rous mouth

The only share, which justice bids me claim,

Is, that I here adventure to confront

Thy matchless strength. Believe not, that unmark'd

Were thy great deeds. From you unbounded camp

None yet hath equall'd thy victorious hand.

But whence thy armour of the Grecian form?

Whence thy tall spear? thy helmet? whence the weight

Of that strong shield unlike thy eastern friends?

O if thou be'st some fugitive, who, lost

To liberty and virtue, art become

A tyrant's vile stipendiary; with grief

That valour, thus triumphant, I behold,

Which after all its danger, and brave toil

Deserves no honour from the Gods, or men.

HERE Teribazus with a sigh return'd.

I am to Greece a stranger, and a wretch

To thee unknown, who seek, this hour, to die;

Though not ignobly, but in death to raise

My name from darkness, while I end my woes.

THE Grecian then. I view thee, and I mourn.

A dignity, which virtue only bears,

And resolution on thy brow enthron'd

(Though grief hath dim'd thy drooping eye) demand

My veneration; and whatever be

The malice of thy fortune, what the cares,

Which thus infest thy quiet, they create

Within my breast the pity of a friend:

Why hast thou then compell'd me to oppose

My arm against thee, while thy might supports

Th' unjust ambition of malignant kings,

The foes to virtue, liberty, and peace?

Yet free from rage, or enmity I lift

My adverse javelin. Victory I ask,

Thy life may fate for happier hours reserve.

THIS said, their beaming lances they protend,

Of hostile hate, or fury both devoid;

As on the Isthmian, or Olympic sand

For fame alone contending. Either host

Pois'd on their spears in silent wonder gaz'd.

The fight begins, when soon the Grecian lance,

Which all the day in constant battle worn

Unnumber'd shields and corselets had transfix'd,

Against the Persian target, shiv'ring breaks,

Its master's hand disarming. Then began▪

The sense of honour, and the dread of shame

To swell in Dithyrambus. Undismay'd

He grapples with the foe, and instant seiz'd

The threatning javelin, e'er th'uplifted arm

Could execute the meditated wound.

The weapon burst betwixt their struggling hands.

They loose their grasp, and bare their shining swords.

With equal swiftness to defend, or charge,

Each active youth advances, or recedes.

On ev'ry side they traverse, now direct,

Obliquely now the wheeling blades descend.

Still is the conflict dubious, when the Greek

Dissembling points his falchion to the earth,

His arm depress'd, as overcome with toil;

While with his buckler cautious he repels

The blows repeated from th' exulting foe.

Greece trembles for her hero. Joy pervades

The Asian ranks, and Hyperanthes strides

Before the line, preparing to receive

His friend triumphant. Teribazus now

Press'd with redoubled efforts. Still the Greek

Sustains th' assault defensive, and at last,

As with unguarded fury of his strokes

Th' unwary Persian sideways swung his targe,

The fatal moment Dithyrambus watch'd,

And darting forward with his feet outstretch'd

His falchion buries in th' obnoxious side.

Affection, grief, and terrour wing the speed

Of Hyperanthes. From his bleeding foe

The Greek retires, not distant, and awaits

The eastern prince. But he with wat'ry cheeks,

And dumb with sorrow clasps his dying friend,

From whose cold lip with interrupted phrase

These accents broke. O dearest, best of men!

My heart is fruitful with ten thousand thoughts

Of gratitude and love to thee; but fate

Denies my voice the utt'rance. O my friend!

O Hyperanthes! hear my tongue unfold.

What thou shouldst ne'er have known before this hour;

When, as I open all my secret soul,

I may at once retire, and veil my eyes

In endless night: nor thou presumption deem

What with my dying breath I here divulge.

I love thy sister. With despair I lov'd,

And thence perhaps untimely is my date;

Though, witness heav'n, without regret I bleed

With honour thus in Persia's sight and thine.

HE ceas'd: th' inexorable hand of Fate

Weigh'd down his eyelids, and the gloom of death

His fleeting sight eternally o'ershades.

Him on Choaspes o'er the blooming verge

His frantic mother shall bewail, and strew

Her silver tresses in the crystal tide;

While all the shore re-echoes to the name

Of Teribazus lost. Th' afflicted prince

The pallid corse contemplating with tears,

Thus in the bitterness of grief exclaims.

OH! Teribazus. Oh! my friend, whose loss

I will deplore for ever. Oh! what pow'r

To me and thee averse thus clos'd thy breast

To Hyperanthes with distrust unkind.

She should, she must have lov'd thee. Now no more

Thy friendly aspect shall delight my eyes,

While in remembrance thy unequall'd worth

Will live for ever to remind my grief

Of what I lost. O Susa, if again

Thee I revisit from this hostile land,

Far from the clamours of tumultuous war,

Then shall my hours be vacant to complaint,

Whole years shalt thou be witness, while I mourn,

And Ariana shall assist my woes.

Let fiercest vengeance now possess my soul.

HE said, and ardent rushes on the Greek,

Who, while his noble enemy expir'd,

And Hyperanthes snatch'd with tender arms

The last embraces from his gasping friend,

Stood near reclin'd in sadness o'er his shield,

And in the pride of victory repin'd,

Nor mark'd his threatning foe: when swift approach'd

Diomedon. Before the Thespian youth

Aloft he rais'd his targe, and loudly thus.

HOLD thee, Barbarian, from a life more worth,

Than thee, and Xerxes, with his host of slaves.

HIS words he seconds with his rapid lance.

Soon a tremendous conflict had ensu'd,

But Intaphernes, Mindus, and the half

Of Persia's leaders anxious for the life

Of Hyperanthes pour'd with all their bands

Betwixt th' encountring chiefs. With mutual wrath

They strove in vain the combat to renew.

So rage two bulls upon th' opposing banks

Of some deep flood, which parts the fruitful mead;

Defiance thunders from their angry mouths

In vain; in vain the furrow'd earth they rend:

Wide rolls the stream, and intercepts the war.

The fierce Plataean satiates his revenge

On vulgar lives. Before his dreaded arm

Whole ranks are scatter'd. But the Persian prince

Borne down the stress of battle gains the shore,

Where then the brave Abrocomes advanc'd;

With him Orontes and Pharnuchus stood,

Mazaeus, Abradates fam'd in arms,

And all the boldest of the eastern chiefs

Begirt with fresh battalions: here with speed

Abrocomes his brother thus bespake.

TO Intaphernes is Pandates sent

With charge to harrass in perpetual fight

The Grecians next the mountains. Thou with me

And these unite thy valour. Here the flow'r

Of all our army is together drawn,

Here all the weight of battle will impend.

He said. The godlike Hyperanthes seeks

The dang'rous van. He heads the splendid throng

Of satraps, princes, and imperial pow'rs;

Themselves the lords of nations, who before

The throne of Xerxes tributary bow'd.

Now mix'd the war. Th' inverted javelins gleam

From ev'ry part, and fell Bellona roars.

WHO first distain'd with Persian blood his sword?

Eupalamus. Artembares he slew

And Derdas fierce, whom Caucasus had rear'd

On its tempestuous brow, the savage sons

Of violence and rapine; but their doom

Great Hyperanthes marks: his angry lance

Arrests the victor in his haughty course.

Beneath the strong Abrocomes o'erwhelm'd,

Melissus swells the number of the dead.

None could Mycenae boast of prouder birth

Than young Melissus; blooming, as the son

Of Maia, all in radiant arms he grac'd

The front of battle; he in Cirrha's vale,

Where high Parnassus from its double top

O'ershades the Pythian games, the envied prize

Of fame obtain'd: low sinks his laurell'd head

In death's cold night, and horrid gore deforms

His graceful locks. Impatient for revenge

Aristobulus strides before the van.

A storm of fury darkens all his brow.

Around he rolls his gloomy eye, and marks

Achaemenes for death, of regal blood

Deriv'd from Croesus, once th' imperial lord

Of nations; him the nymphs of Halys wept,

When with delusive oracles beguil'd

By Delphi's God, he pass'd their fatal waves

A mighty empire to dissolve: nor knew

Th' ill-destin'd king, that envious Fortune watch'd

That dreadful moment from his hand to wrest

The scepter of his fathers. In the shade

Of humble life his race on Tmolus' brow

Lay hid, 'till rous'd to battle here his breath

Achaemenes resigns. Then Lycis bled

For horrid war ill-chosen. He was skill'd

To tune the lulling flute, and melt the heart;

Or with his pipe's awak'ning strains invite

The lovely dames of Lydia to the dance:

They graceful o'er the verdant level mov'd

In varied measures, while the cooling breeze

Beneath their swelling garments wanton'd o'er

Their snowy breasts, and smooth Cayster's wave

Soft-gliding murmur'd by. His op'ning chest

Pours forth his entrails, and supine he falls.

Not long the Grecian triumphs. From the slain

In all the pride of conquest as he rends

His reeking javelin, Hyperanthes' steel

His knee invades, and bursts the sinewy cords.

The Mycenaeans with uplifted shields,

Corinthians, and Phliasians gather round

The wounded Grecian. With redoubled rage

The conflict glows. Abrocomes incites

Each Persian leader; all obey his voice;

Here Abradates, there Mazaeus press'd,

Orontes, and Hydarnes; none retire

From toil, or peril: urg'd on ev'ry side

The Greeks at length th' abandon'd chief resign.

Despairing, raging, destitute he stands

Propt on his spear; his wound forbids retreat.

None, but his brother Eumenes, abide

The dire extremity. His shield defends

The fainting chief, till Hyperanthes' sword

Full on his arm its dreadful weight discharg'd.

Down with the buckler drops the sever'd hand,

Nor quits its grasp. Now sink the wretched pair

Beneath the Persian's unresisted steel:

From both their breasts the vital currents flow,

And mix their streams. Elate the Persians roll

Their deepning legions on the foes dismay'd.

The Greeks their station painfully maintain.

This soon the faithless Anaxander saw,

When thus to Leontiades he spake.

THIS is the time to aid our Persian friends.

Behold the Greeks are press'd. Let Thebes retire,

And yield a bloodless conquest to the king.

THE Thebans streight desert the broken line

Not with unpunish'd treachery; the spears

Of fierce Orontes, and Pharnuchus join'd

With Mindus gor'd their shameful flight, and thin'd

Their bleeding files. Meantime, as he who rul'd

Than Jove more antient on the throne of heav'n,

When from the womb of Chaos dark the world

Emerg'd to birth, where'er he view'd the jar

Of atoms yet discordant and unform'd,

Confusion thence with pow'rful voice dispell'd,

Till light and order universal reign'd;

So from the wall Leonidas explor'd

The various war. He saw the Theban rout,

That Corinth, Phlius, and Mycenae look'd

Affrighted backward; instantly he charg'd

The sons of Lacedaemon to repair

The disunited phalanx. E'er they move

Dieneces inspires them. Fame, my friends,

Calls forth your valour in a signal hour;

For you this glorious period she reserv'd

To vindicate the Spartan name. He spake.

On either side supported by the might

Of Agis and of Alpheus he conducts

His gen'rous troop, who riveting their shields

In dense array indissolubly firm

Confront the Persians, and with death repulse

Their scatter'd numbers; when with efforts vain

They oft renew'd the contest, and recoil'd

As oft confounded with diminish'd ranks,

Thus Hyperanthes counsell'd. Learn, O chiefs,

From whence alone success can grace our arms.

These are a band selected from the Greeks,

Unlike the others, whom we lately chas'd;

Perhaps the Spartans, whom we oft have heard

By Demaratus prais'd. To break their line

False is the hope, while unarray'd, and lax,

And wanting union singly we assail

Their strength collected. Do not we preside

O'er Asia's myriads, and our valour boast,

And martial arts above the vulgar herd?

Let us, ye chiefs, attempt in order'd ranks

To join our force, and emulate the foe.

THEY wait not dubious. Soon a dreadful line

From Oeta's mountain to the shore extends,

Compos'd of all the leaders, Mindus bold,

Pharnuchus, and Mazaeus, and the strength

Of fierce Abrocomes, with each, who bore

The highest honours, and excell'd in war.

To these succeed a chosen number drawn

From those, whom Asia boasts her bravest sons,

Who from their king perpetual stipends share;

And station'd round his provinces by arms

His tyranny sustain. In ev'ry part

Is Hyperanthes seen with active care

To form the huge battalion. Soon they stand

In just array, when cautious, lest their march

Might still relax their order, Persia's prince

Amid the center of the foremost rank

Orontes plac'd, committing to his hand

Th' imperial standard; whose expanded folds

Glow'd in the air, presenting to the sun

The richest dye of Tyre: the royal bird

Amid the gorgeous tincture shone exprest

In flaming gold. On this the eastern chief

Commands each Persian station'd in the front

To turn his eyes regardful, and to guide

His slow and equal feet by this alone

Retiring, or advancing. Next he charg'd,

That ev'ry warriour through the num'rous files,

Observing none but those before him rang'd,

Should watch their motions, and their steps pursue.

Close by the standard then th' intrepid chief

His post assumes, and animates the band.

ILLUSTRIOUS warriours, whose unconquer'd arms

Rebellious Aegypt, and the Libyan felt,

Think what the splendour of your former deeds

From you demands; remember, from the great

Heroic actions are a debt to fame.

No middle course remains for them to tread,

Whom she hath once ennobled; and this hour

Or with fresh trophies will enlarge your praise,

Or will for ever with dishonour blast.

THE hero said, and all to fight proceed.

As when tempestuous Eurus stems the weight

Of western Neptune struggling through the straits,

Which bound Alcides' labours; here the storm

With rapid wing reverberates the tide,

There the contending surge with furrow'd tops

To mountains swells, and whelming o'er the beach

On either coast invests with hoary foam

The Mauritanian and Iberian strand:

Not with less rage in hideous onset meet

The Grecians and Barbarians. These preserve

Their formost ranks unbroken, where was drawn

The prime of Asia's warriours; and the croud,

Though still promiscuous pouring from behind,

Yet added pressure to th' imbattled chiefs

With endless numbers. Like the mural strength

Of some proud city bulwark'd round, and arm'd

With rising tow'rs to guard her wealthy stores;

Immoveable, impenetrable stood

The serried phalanx of the Greeks. Behind,

Their country spread, their fields with plenty crown'd,

Their native walls and habitations lay

With each dear pledge of friendship and of love.

High in the Persian van th' exalted lance

Of Hyperanthes flam'd. Beside him press'd

Abrocomes, Hydarnes, and the bulk

Of Abradates terrible in war.

And here the great Dieneces upheld

His shield's expanded surface, and alone

Firm, as a Memphian pyramid, sustain'd

The stress of thousands. Alpheus here unmov'd,

And Agis there connect their spacious orbs,

With Menalippus wise Megisthias' heir

In one impervious line. Long time the hosts

Maintain in strong and unrelax'd array

The conflict undecided; nor could Greece

Repel the adverse numbers, nor the force

Of Asia's myriads could remove the Greeks.

BUT now from Sparta's king, who soon discern'd

The Persian's new arrangement, Medon hastes,

Th' illustrious chief of Locris, from the race

Of Ajax sprung in Trojan fields renown'd:

To wife Dieneces he thus began.

LEONIDAS commands the Grecian line

To yield before the Persians, and with speed

To measure back some paces. Soon, he deems,

The unexperienc'd foe in wild pursuit

Will break their order. Then the charge renew;

Let Agis, join'd with Alpheus, from the line

Rush with Laconia's troop imbattled deep,

And force a passage through the Barb'rous host;

Thou with a strong battalion from the sons

Of Locris drawn must follow swift, and reach

The Spartans led by Agis; with the rest

Of Locris' youth shall I advance to fill

Your vacant station, and the line maintain;

While in the narrow entrance, where the pass

Looks o'er the Malian plain on Persia's camp,

Do thou arrange to intercept the foe,

Should Asia pour fresh succours from her tents:

Then Xerxes soon the slaughter shall deplore

Of all these thousands in the straits inclos'd

For sure destruction; and the Gods of Greece

Behold their temples with profusion grac'd

Of splendid off'rings from Barbarian spoils

Won by their free-born supplicants this day.

THIS heard, Dieneces obedient gave

Through ev'ry band the signal of retreat,

When all at once drew backward. Persia stop'd,

As with amazement rooted to the earth

At unexpected conquest; 'till the voice

Of fierce Abrocomes their minds awakes

With these triumphant accents. By the sun

They fly before us. My victorious friends,

Delay you then to enter Greece? Away,

Rush on undaunted. I already hear,

Our horse and chariots thund'ring o'er their plains,

And view their towns involv'd in Persian fires.

HE said. With hurried violence they roll

Tumultuous forward. All with headlong pace

Wide from their ranks expatiate in pursuit,

Disjoin their order, and the line dissolve.

This when the sage Dieneces descries,

The Grecians halt returning to the charge

With sudden onset. In a moment, pierc'd

By Lacedaemon's chief, Orontes falls,

And quits th' imperial banner; this the Greek

In triumph waves, and gives the dreadful sign.

At once with Agis tow'ring in the front,

And rapid Alpheus all Laconia's band

In deep arrangement bursting from the line

Bear down with irresistible career

The eastern legions, shatter'd and o'erturn'd

With all their standards trampled on the plain.

As the swift vessel, when a rising gale

Distends the canvass, its resistless course

Impells through millions of opposing waves;

Through the Barbarian multitudes so pierc'd

The Spartan wedge. Invincible o'er hills

Of arms, and mangled corses they impress

Their crimson footsteps. Persia's bravest chiefs,

Ev'n Hyperanthes from the line is driv'n;

And flying thousands through the pass are swept

Before the Spartans. With a Locrian troop

Of hideous depth Dieneces pursues

His conqu'ring friends, and hews his purple way

Through Asia's numbers, which again were clos'd

In vain: himself unconquerable leads

Destruction on, and heaps the rock with death.

But on the broken foe what ruin falls

From Alpheus' sword? O'er all in swift pursuit

Was he renown'd. His rapid feet had match'd

The son of Peleus in the dusty course,

Or had he run for Atalanta's love,

He had rejected Cytheraea's aid;

Nor of her swiftness to beguile the fair

Before her steps had thrown the golden balls.

But now the wrongs, the long-remember'd wrongs

Of Polydorus animate his strength

With tenfold vigour; guided by revenge

His falchion reddens with Barbarian blood;

The gory drops besprinkled all his shield,

Like crimson poppies o'er the yellow plain.

As when with horrour wing'd a whirlwind rends

A shatter'd navy; from the ocean cast,

Th' enormous fragments hide the sandy beach:

Thus o'er the rock the Persians lay bestrewn

By Alpheus raging in the swift pursuit.

Not with severer pangs the God of day

The Theban queen afflicted, when incens'd

With her proud vaunts he hurl'd her blooming race

From youth and beauty to the pale abodes;

Than now distracted Hyperanthes' soul,

As round him, bleeding by the Spartan's lance,

His noblest friends lay gasping. Oft he strove

To turn his flying legions, oft the fight

With Abradates and his brother's force

Renews, against insuperable foes

In vain repugnant; till by all around

Deserted, mixing with the gen'ral rout

He yields to fortune, and the field forsakes.

So with relapsing waves the ebbing tide

Beats for a time against the shelving strand,

Still by degrees retiring, and at last

Within the bosom of the main subsides.

NOW at Thermopylae's extremest bound

The Spartans check'd their progress. Soon approach'd

Dieneces, and thus began. Behold,

What numbers have we pass'd of Perfia's sons.

Be swift, my friends, and form. He said, and fill'd

The narrow straits with order'd files, a depth

Of fifty warriours; half on Asia's host,

Half tow'rd the pass were turn'd, a double front,

Where ev'ry rank with twenty javelins flam'd.

The Locrian band to Agis is assign'd,

Who stands prepar'd to stop the flying foes;

Dieneces himself to Persia's camp

Presents the terrours of the Spartan steel.

NOW, Muse, the wond'rous stratagem display,

Which Sparta's hero, whose presiding care

Mark'd all the great vicissitudes of fight,

And rul'd the course of slaughter, had conceiv'd

To whelm the num'rous, long-resisting foe

In hideous death, and signalize the day

With horrours new to war. As o'er the wall,

His constant station, darting through the straits

His watchful eye, e'er yet the battle clos'd,

He view'd the hostile myriads swarming down,

And nations still succeeding from the camp

Immense, exhaustless, by an horrid length

Of clust'ring helms, and shields, and threatning spears

Join'd to the Grecian van; the wary chief,

Lest by the long-protracted fight his Greeks

Might yield o'erlabour'd, from the Locrians chose

A thousand warriours. These by Maron led

Ascend the mountain, which o'erhung the pass.

His charge he soon reveals. A thousand hands

At once with restless pains assemble stones

Of hugest bulk, and wither'd trunks uptorn

In elder times by whirlwinds from the grove.

Unwearied then they loosen from the rocks

Broad, craggy fragments; from the mountain hew'd

Its venerable firs, and aged oaks

Of wide circumference, and knotted strength,

Which of their branches by the lightning bared,

Presented still against its blasting flame

Their hoary pride unshaken. These the Greeks

Roll heavy on, with massy leavers heave,

Or drag with strong-knit cables, till they reach,

Where o'er the Persian multitudes inclin'd

The mountain's edge; so lofty, that the voice

Of war below there lost its deafning roar,

And soften'd into murmurs. Still his post,

Though Hyperanthes from the field was driv'n,

With thronging numbers Intaphernes bold

Beneath the shade of this incumbent hill

Against the fierce Diomedon maintain'd;

Great Intaphernes, progeny of kings,

Whom o'er Damascus, and the Syrian palms

Had Xerxes seated with despotic sway

His substitute. This Maron from on high

Surveys, and gives the signal; downward sinks

The nodding pile, stupendous heap of death!

Trees roll'd on trees with mingled rock descend,

Unintermitted ruin. Loud resound

The hollow trunks against the mountain's side,

Swift bounds each craggy mass. The foes beneath

Look up aghast, with horrour shrink, and die;

Whole legions crush'd beneath the dreadful heaps

Lie hid and lost, as never they had known

A name, or being; while around them grew

A hill of ruin. Numbers still survive,

Who shun destruction with impetuous flight;

But Agis stops them: Intaphernes falls

Before his thund'ring arm. Again they turn

To meet resistless ruin. From behind

With twice two hundred Locrians Agis pours.

MEANTIME the Grecian line (so Sparta's king

Decreed) had left its station, and beyond

The heaps of dreadful carnage was advanc'd;

There, stretch'd from Oeta to the Malian bay,

The Locrians led by Medon had dispos'd,

With Corinth, Phlius and Mycenae's train

Their hostile phalanx o'er the less'ning pass.

Along the mountain's side Plataea's troop,

The Mantinéans, and Tegaeans stood,

An horrid length of war. Th' unwearied swords

Of Dithyrambus and Diomedon

Still blaz'd the terrour of the Barb'rous host.

Before them fled the Persians to the shore,

All in a moment by the various bands

Of Greece surrounded. From the gulph profound

Perdition here inevitable frowns,

And there, incircled by a grove of spears,

They stand devoted hecatombs to Mars.

Now not a moment's interval delays

Their gen'ral doom, but down the Malian steep

Prone are they hurried to th' expanded arms

Of Horrour rising from the op'ning deep,

And grasping all their numbers, as they fall.

The dire confusion, like a storm, invades

The chafing billows; loud resounds the shore:

And o'er whole troops by fell Bellona roll'd

In one vast ruin from the craggy ridge,

O'er all their arms and ensigns deep ingulph'd,

With hideous roar the surge for ever clos'd.

End of the Fifth Book.

LEONIDAS. BOOK VI.

The argument.

Night coming on, the Grecians retire to their tents. A guard is plac'd on the Phocian wall under the command of Agis. He admits into the camp a lady accompanied by a single slave, and conducts them to Leonidas; when she discovers herself to be Ariana, sister of Xerxes and Hyperanthes, and sues for the body of Teribazus; which being found among the slain, she kills herself upon it. The slave, who attended her, proves to be Polydorus, brother of Alpheus and Maron, and who had been formerly carried into captivity by a Phoenician pirate. He relates before an assembly of the chiefs a message from Demaratus to the Spartans, which discloses the treachery of the Thebans, and of Epialtes, the Malian, who had undertaken to lead part of the Persian army through a pass among the mountains of Oeta. This information throws the council into a great tumult, which is pacified by Leonidas, who sends Alpheus to observe the motions of these Persians, and Dieneces with a party of Lacedaemonians to support the Phocians, with whom the defence of these passages in the hills had been intrusted. In the mean time Agis sends the bodies of Teribazus and Ariana to the camp of Xerxes.

IN sable pomp with all her starry train

The night assum'd her throne. Recall'd from war

Her long-protracted labours Greece forgets,

Dissolv'd in silent slumber; all but those,

Who watch'd th' uncertain perils of the dark,

An hundred warriours: Agis was their chief.

High on the wall intent the hero sat,

As o'er the surface of the tranquil main

Along its undulating breast the wind

The various din of Asia's host convey'd

In one deep murmur swelling in his ear:

When by the sound of footsteps down the pass

Alarm'd he calls aloud. What feet are those,

Which beat the echoing pavement of the rock?

With speed reply, nor tempt your instant fate.

HE said, and thus return'd a voice unknown.

Not with the feet of enemies we come,

But crave admittance with a friendly tongue.

THE Spartan answers. Through the midnight shade

What purpose draws your wandring steps abroad?

TO whom the stranger. We are friends to Greece,

And to the presence of the Spartan king

Admission we implore. The cautious chief

Of Lacedaemon hesitates again.

When thus with accents musically sweet

A tender voice his wondring ear allur'd.

O GEN'ROUS Grecian, listen to the pray'r

Of one distress'd! whom grief alone hath led

In this dark hour to these victorious tents,

A wretched woman innocent of fraud.

THE Greek descending through th'unfolded gates

Upheld a flaming brand. One first appear'd

In servile garb attir'd; but near his side

A woman graceful and majestic stood;

Not with an aspect rivalling the power

Of fatal Hellen, or the wanton charms

Of Love's soft queen; but such as far excell'd,

Whate'er the lilly blending with the rose

Paints on the cheek of beauty soon to fade;

Such as express'd a mind, which wisdom rul'd,

And sweetness temper'd, virtue's purest light

Illumining the countenance divine,

Yet could not sooth remorseless fate, nor teach

Malignant Fortune to revere the good,

Which oft with anguish rends the spotless heart,

And oft associates wisdom with despair.

In courteous phrase began the chief humane.

EXALTED fair, who thus adorn'st the night,

Forbear to blame the vigilance of war,

And to the laws of rigid Mars impute,

That I thus long unwilling have delay'd

Before the great Leonidas to place

This your apparent dignity and worth.

HE spake, and gently to the lofty tent

Of Sparta's king the lovely stranger guides.

At Agis' summons with a mantle broad

His mighty limbs Leonidas infolds,

And quits his couch. In wonder he surveys

Th' illustrious virgin, whom his presence aw'd:

Her eye submissive to the ground inclin'd

With veneration of the godlike man.

But soon his voice her anxious dread dispell'd,

Benevolent and hospitable thus.

THY form alone, thus amiable and great,

Thy mind delineates, and from all commands

Supreme regard. Relate, thou noble dame,

By what relentless destiny compell'd,

Thy tender feet the paths of darkness tread.

Rehearse th' afflictions, whence thy virtue mourns.

ON her wan cheek a sudden blush arose,

Like day's first dawn upon the twilight pale,

And wrapt in grief these words a passage broke.

IF to be most unhappy, and to know,

That hope is irrecoverably fled;

If to be great and wretched may deserve

Commiseration from the good; behold,

Thou glorious leader of unconquer'd bands,

Behold descended from Darius' loins

Th' afflicted Ariana, and my pray'r

Accept with pity, nor my tears disdain!

First, that I lov'd the best of human race,

By nature's hand with ev'ry virtue form'd,

Heroic, wise, adorn'd with ev'ry art;

Of shame unconscious does my heart reveal.

This day in Grecian arms conspicuous clad

He fought, he fell. A passion long conceal'd

For me alas! within my brother's arms

His dying breath resigning, he disclos'd.

—OH I will stay my sorrows! will forbid

My eyes to stream before thee, and my heart,

Thus full of anguish, will from sighs restrain!

For why should thy humanity be griev'd

With my distress, and learn from me to mourn

The lot of nature doom'd to care and pain!

Hear then, O king, and grant my sole request,

To seek his body in the heaps of slain.

THUS to the Spartan su'd the regal maid

Resembling Ceres in majestic woe,

When, supplicant at Jove's resplendent throne,

From dreary Pluto, and th'infernal gloom

Her lov'd and lost Proserpina she sought.

Fix'd on the weeping queen with stedfast eyes,

Laconia's chief these tender thoughts recall'd.

SUCH are thy sorrows, O for ever dear!

Who now at Lacedaemon dost deplore

My everlasting absence! then inclin'd

His head, and sigh'd; nor yet forgot to charge

His friend, the gentle Agis, through the straits

The Persian princess to attend and aid.

With careful steps they seek her lover's corse.

The Greeks remember'd, where by Fate repress'd

His arm first ceas'd to mow their legions down,

And from beneath a mass of Persian slain

Soon drew the hero by his armour known.

To Agis' high pavilion they resort.

Now, Ariana, what transcending pangs

Thy soul involv'd? What horrour clasp'd thy heart?

But love grew mightiest, and her beauteous limbs

On the cold breast of Teribazus threw

The grief-distracted maid. The clotted gore

Deform'd her snowy bosom. O'er his wounds

Loose flow'd her hair, and bubbling from her eyes

Impetuous sorrow lav'd the purple clay.

When forth in groans her lamentations broke.

O TORN for ever from my weeping eyes!

Thou, who despairing to obtain her heart,

Who then most lov'd thee, didst untimely yield

Thy life to Fate's inevitable dart

For her, who now in agony unfolds

Her tender bosom, and repeats her vows

To thy deaf ear, who fondly to her own

Now clasps thy breast insensible and cold.

Alas! do those unmoving, ghastly orbs

Perceive my gushing anguish! Does that heart,

Which Death's inanimating hand hath chill'd,

Share in my suff'rings, and return my sighs!

—Oh! bitter unsurmountable distress!

Lo! on thy breast is Ariana bow'd,

Hangs o'er thy face, unites her cheek to thine

Not now to listen with enchanted ears

To thy persuasive eloquence, no more

Charm'd with the wisdom of thy copious mind!

SHE could no more. Invincible despair

Suppress'd her utt'rance. As a marble form

Fix'd on the solemn sepulcher, unmov'd

O'er some dead hero, whom his country lov'd,

Bends down the head with imitated woe:

So paus'd the princess o'er the breathless clay,

Intranc'd in sorrow. On the dreary wound,

Where Dithyrambus' sword was deepest plung'd,

Mute for a space and motionless she gaz'd.

Then with a look unchang'd, nor trembling hand

Drew forth a poniard, which her garment veil'd,

And sheathing in her heart th' abhorred steel,

On her slain lover, silent sinks in death.

In vain the Spartan interven'd. With tears

He view'd the prostrate lovers, and exclaim'd.

OH! most unhappy, heavy on your heads

Hath sorrow fall'n, which o'er your pale remains

Commands this pity from a stranger's eye!

Illustrious ruins, may the grave impart

That peace, which life denied! And now receive

This pious office from a hand unknown.

SO saying, from his shoulders he unclasp'd

His ample robe, and strew'd the waving folds

O'er the pale dead. Then turning, he bespake

The slave, who stood beside him. Thou, who ledst

Thy queen ill-destin'd to the fatal tents

Of Lacedaemon, now returning bear

Her bleeding reliques to the Persian lord;

Thou, and these captives, whom I free from bonds.

ART thou a Spartan (interrupts the slave)

And dost thou counsel me to seek again

A clime unbless'd, where freedom never dwells?

No. Bear me to Leonidas. Alone

Shall he decide, if wretched, as I seem,

I may not claim protection from this camp.

WHOE'ER thou art (amaz'd the chief replies)

Thou may'st indeed a better lot demand,

Than I, a stranger to thy hidden worth,

Unconscious offer'd. Thy ignoble garb

Conceal'd a virtue, which I now revere.

And since thy suff'ring soul hath long indur'd

The gloom of bondage, and the hated face

Of tyrants view'd, now change the horrid scene;

Here freedom reigns, and justice: come and seek

With me their great protector. Ending here,

Swift he conducts him to Laconia's king,

When Agis thus Leonidas address'd.

LO! far superiour to the name, which marks

His habit with dishonour, one, who sues

For thy protection! Here the slave subjoin'd.

I stand thy suppliant now. Thou soon shalt learn,

If I deserve thy favour. I intreat

To see th' assembled leaders of your host,

For I am fraught with tydings, which import

The weal of all the Grecians. Agis streight

Appointed by Leonidas convenes

The various leaders. To the tent they throng,

Amidst them plac'd, the stranger thus began.

O ALPHEUS! Maron! hither turn your sight,

And know your brothers. From their seats they start.

From either burst, with tears of transport mix'd,

The name of Polydorus. On his breast

Each fondly strives to rush, but he withstands;

While down his cheek a stream of anguish pours

From his dejected eyes in torture bent

On that vile garb, which sham'd his free-born limbs.

At length these accents intermix'd with groans

Broke from his heart, while all stood wond'ring round.

YOU first shall know, if this unhappy slave

Yet merits your embraces. Now approach'd

Leonidas. Before him all recede,

Ev'n Alpheus' self; and yields his brother's hand,

Which in his own the gen'rous hero press'd:

Then with majestic goodness thus bespake

Th' afflicted youth, and mitigates his pains.

FORBEAR to mourn, thou unexampled youth.

Thy friends, thy country, all on thee shall gaze

With veneration, whose unshaken mind

The chains of Asia never could debase.

Lo! ev'ry breast is open to thy worth,

Each tongue prepares to hail thee with applause,

Who hast thy country honour'd ev'n in bonds.

HE ceas'd, when Alpheus with an eager hand

Divests his brother of his base attire,

And his own mantle o'er the shoulders threw

Of Polydorus. Agis too advanc'd,

With friendly arms infolds him, and began.

Now, in thy native liberty secure,

Smile on thy past afflictions, and relate,

What chance restor'd thy virtue to the Greeks.

THEN Polydorus to the list'ning chiefs.

I was a Spartan. When my tender prime

On manhood border'd, from my native shore

Snatch'd by Phoenician pirates, I was sold,

To Ariana, sister to the king

And Hyperanthes. Fortune there was kind

My bonds committing to that gentle hand.

Yet was I still a captive, and estrang'd

From Lacedaemon. Demaratus oft

With friendly sorrows would my lot deplore,

Nor less his own ill-fated virtue mourn'd

Lost to his country in a servile court,

The center of corruption; where in smiles

Is envy painted, treachery, and hate,

And rankling malice; where alone sincere

The dissolute seeks no disguise: where he

Who all possesses, that a king can give,

Is far less happy than the meanest son

Of liberty, and groveling, as the slave,

Who serves his cruel pride. Yet here the sun

Ten times his annual period hath renew'd,

Since Polydorus hath in bondage groan'd.

My bloom now past, or else by pining care

Untimely wither'd, I at last return,

And to my native land the tydings bear

Of instant desolation. Here in grief

He paus'd, when thus Leonidas. Proceed.

Though from thy lips inevitable fate

To all be threaten'd, thou art heard by none,

Whose dauntless souls can entertain a thought,

But how to fall the noblest. Thus the chief.

The rest in speechless expectation wait.

Such was the solemn silence, which o'erspread

The shrine of Ammon, or Dodona's shades,

When anxious mortals from the mouth of Jove

Their doom explor'd. Nor Polydorus long

Suspends the Grecians, but resumes his tale.

AS I this night accompanied the steps

Of Ariana, e'er we reach'd the straits

Before our view then op'ning, one appear'd

With hasty feet now traversing the way,

Now fix'd intensely tow'rds the Grecian wall;

Then on a sudden starting would renew

His restless pace. As nearer we approach'd,

He by the moon, which glimmer'd o'er our heads,

Descried us, when advancing he demands

Where bent our midnight course. I knew the voice

Of Demaratus. To my breast I clasp'd

The venerable exile, and replied.

Our purpose ask not. Sparta's camp we seek,

And oh! farewel for ever! He rejoin'd.

Thrice happy Polydorus! Thou again

Shalt visit Sparta to these eyes denied.

Upon your paths may heav'n's protection smile.

Soon as you mix with yon triumphant tents,

Say to the Spartans, whose unconquer'd arms

Defend those rocks, you saw their exil'd king;

Say, though their blind credulity depriv'd

The wretched Demaratus of his home,

From ev'ry joy secluded, which awaits

The parent and the husband, from his wife,

His offspring torn, his friends, and native gates,

Him from his virtue could they ne'er divide:

Say, that ev'n here, where all are kings, or slaves,

Amid the riot of flagitious courts

Not quite extinct the Spartan spirit glows

Within his breast, though grief hath dim'd its fires.

Remembring this to Lacedaemon's chief

Report, that newly to the Persian host

Return'd a Malian, Epialtes nam'd,

Who as a spy had sought the Grecian tents.

He to the tyrant magnified his art,

Which with delusive eloquence had wrought

The Greeks to such despair, that Asia's king

Had been e'er now their sov'reign master own'd,

Had not the spirit of their single chief,

By fear unconquer'd, and on death resolv'd,

Restor'd their valour: therefore would the king

Trust to his guidance a selected band,

They soon should pierce th' unguarded bounds of Greece,

Led through a secret passage o'er the hills,

Where no Leonidas should bar their way.

Meantime by him the treach'rous Thebans sent

Assurance of their aid. Th' assenting king

At once decreed two myriads to advance

With Hyperanthes, with Abrocomes,

And bold Hydarnes. Ev'ry chief besides,

Whom youth, or valour, or ambition warms,

Rous'd by the traitor's eloquence, attends

From all the nations, fir'd with eager zeal

The first to enter Greece. In silence now

The youth remains. Tremendous from his seat

Uprose Plataea's chief. His eyes were flames,

And thus on trembling Anaxander burst

The furious accents from his livid lips.

YET e'er we fall, O traitor, shall this arm

To hell's avenging furies sink thy head.

ALL now is tumult, ev'ry bosom swells

With rage untam'd, and vengeance. Half unsheath'd

Diomedon's impetuous falchion blaz'd.

But, as the Cholchian sorceress renown'd

In fables old, or Circe, when they fram'd

A potent spell from Erebus to wake

The dead in dark and fleeting forms to glide

Before the moon's dim twilight, with their charms

Smooth'd all the sea, and silenc'd each rude blast;

Till not a billow heav'd against the shore,

Nor ev'n the wanton-winged zephir breath'd

The lightest whisper through the magic air:

So, when thy voice, Leonidas, is heard,

Fell Discord listens; Rage with sacred awe

Subsides in silence; while Confusion slept.

WITHHOLD this rashness (interpos'd the king)

Before we punish, let us find the guilt.

Not yet hath Persia overturn'd our tents,

Not yet her Barb'rous shouts our ears alarm.

We still have time for vengeance, and to know,

If yet our swords destruction may repel,

Or how to die most glorious. Then arose

Dieneces, and thus the Greeks bespake.

E'ER yet they pass our borders, Xerxes' host

Must learn to conquer, and the Greeks to fly.

The spears of Phocis guard the secret pass.

Let instant messengers be thither sent

To know the Persians progress. Alpheus here.

LEONIDAS, behold, my willing feet

Shall to the Phocians bear thy great commands,

Or climb the hills to mark th' approaching foe.

THOU active son of valour (thus returns

The chief of Lacedaemon) in my thoughts

For ever present, when the public cause

Demands the swift, the vigilant, and bold!

Go and surmount the rocks aërial height.

And while, around, Dieneces conducts

An hundred Spartans to the Phocians aid,

Thou from the hills observe the Persians march.

BEFORE the purple-winged morn the night

Retiring warn'd their conference to cease.

They all disperse. When hastning on his course,

And ready now to climb the lofty crags,

O Polydorus, Alpheus thus exclaims,

Long lost and late recover'd! we must part

Once more, and now for ever. Thou return,

And kiss the sacred soil, which gave thee birth,

Which calls thee back to freedom? Dearest youth

I should have tears to give thee—but farewel!

My country chides me loit'ring in thy arms.

THIS said, he quits his brother, and ascends,

While Polydorus answers. Alpheus no.

I have the marks of bondage to erase,

My blood must wash the shameful stain away.

WE have a father (Maron interpos'd)

Thy unexpected presence will revive

His heavy age, that childless else will mourn.

Here Polydorus with a gloomy smile.

ILL should I comfort others. View these eyes;

Faint is their light, and vanish'd is my bloom

Before its hour of ripeness. In my breast

Grief as a native will for ever dwell,

Nor yield to time. Unceasing shall my soul

Brood o'er the dire remembrance of my youth

In servitude thus wasted. Life with me

Hath lost its savour. Then in silent woe

He hangs his head. His brother pleads in vain.

He answers only with repeated groans.

Now in his view Dieneces advanc'd

With Sparta's band. On them his eyes are fix'd

Immoveable, and thus his mind revolves.

I TOO, like these, in Lacedaemon sprung,

Instructed once, like these, to poize the spear,

And lift the pond'rous shield. Ill-destin'd wretch!

Thy arm is now enervate, and would fail

Beneath the buckler's weight. O cruel Heav'n!

Who didst compel my free-born hand to change

The warriour's arms for ignominious bonds;

Wouldst thou compensate for my chains, my shame,

My ten years sorrows, and the black despair,

Which on my youth has prey'd; propitious once

Grant, I may bear my buckler to the field,

And known a Spartan seek the shades below.

HE ceas'd, and sudden turn'd his steps aside

To find the tent of Agis; there the youth

With grateful sorrow ministers his aid,

While with a kind and hospitable hand

The gentle Agis by her lover's corse

On one sad bier the pallid beauties laid

Of Ariana. He from shackles frees

Two Persian captives, whom his gen'rous arm

That day preserv'd from slaughter, then began.

TO you I give that freedom, which you sought

To snatch from me. This recompense I ask,

And this alone. Transport to Asia's camp

These bleeding reliques; bid the Persian king

Weep o'er this flow'r thus blasted in its pride;

Then say, th' all-judging Gods have thus ordain'd:

Thou, whose ambition o'er the groaning earth

Leads desolation, o'er the nations spreads

Calamity and tears, thou first shalt mourn,

And through thy house destruction first shall range.

THUS charg'd, to Asia's host the captives bend.

They soon attain the Phocian wall, where now

Was Dithyrambus station'd. He perceives

The mournful bier approach. To him the fate

Of Ariana was already told.

He meets the captives, when, with weeping eyes

On Teribazus turn'd, he thus exclaims.

O! AS thy arms present thee, hadst thou been

Indeed a Grecian! then thy gen'rous heart

Its valour ne'er had wasted to support

A king's injustice; then a gentler fate,

Had bless'd thy life, or bleeding thou hadst known,

How sweet is death for liberty. A Greek

This friendly wish affords thee, though his head

Had lost the honours gather'd from thy fall;

When fortune favour'd, or propitious heav'n

Smil'd on the better cause. Ill-fated pair!

Whom with this stream of pity here I lave;

But that my hostile hands imbru'd with gore

Must be ungrateful to your loathing shades,

From all the neighb'ring valleys would I cull

Their fairest growth, and strew your hearse with flow'rs.

Yet O accept these tears and pious pray'rs!

May peace attend your ashes! may your shades

Pass o'er the silent pool to happier seats,

Where tyrants ne'er can enter to molest

The blissful region; but are far remov'd

To realms of horrour, where from righteous heav'n

They bear those pains, they merit from mankind!

HE ceas'd in tears. The captives leave the wall,

And slowly down Thermopylae proceed.

End of the Sixth Book.

LEONIDAS. BOOK VII.

The argument.

The bodies of Teribazus and Ariana are brought into the presence of Xerxes, soon after a report had reach'd the camp, that half his navy was shipwreck'd. The Persian monarch, quite dispirited, is persuaded by Argestes, one of the satraps, to send an ambassador to the Spartan king. Argestes himself is deputed, who, after revealing his ambassy to Leonidas in secret, is by him led before the whole army, and there receives his answer. In the mean time Alpheus returns and declares, that the enemies were possess'd of the passages in the hills, and were hastening to Thermopylae, upon which Leonidas offers to send away all the army except his three hundred Spartans; but Diomedon, Demophilus, Dithyrambus, and Megistias refuse to depart: he then dismisses Argestes, informs the Grecians of his design to attack the Persian camp in the night, and making all the necessary dispositions retires to his pavilion.

BEFORE the tent of Xerxes now arriv'd

The Persian captives. On with solemn pace

And slow they move. The monarch from afar

Descries their sad demeanour. They approach,

Nor he forbids. That morn had Rumour told

The loss of half his navy dash'd on rocks

By angry blasts, or buried in the surge.

Thus, when his bleeding sister met his eyes,

Already sunk in sadness, he had lost

His kingly pride, the parent of disdain,

And cold indifference for others woes;

Nor ev'n beside his sister's nobler corse

Her humble lover now his scorn awak'd.

In tears the captive's mournful tale he heard,

And then first knew compassion; but e'er long

Those traces vanish'd from the tyrant's breast:

His former gloom redoubles, for himself

His anxious bosom heaves, and now he fears,

Lest he with all his numbers should be cast

A prey to Fortune. Near the monarch stood

The Spartan exile, whom he thus bespake.

O DEMARATUS, what will fate ordain!

Lo! Fortune turns against me! Who shall know

How far her daring malice may extend,

Which rages now so near me, and hath made

My house the seat of ruin? I have sent

From my unshelter'd side my bravest chiefs,

And choicest troops to pass the desart hill,

Led by this Malian; may not there the Greeks

With opposition more tremendous still

And ruinous, than yester sun beheld,

Resistless hold their craggy post; renew

Their stony thunder with augmented rage,

And send whole quarries down the rocky steep

Again to crush my legions? Oh! unfold

Thy secret soul, nor hide the harshest truth;

Say what remains to hope? The exile here.

IF truth unblam'd may issue from my lips,

Too well, imperial Xerxes, you presage

What may befal your legions. If the Greeks

Arrang'd within Thermopylae, a pass

Accessible and spacious, could repel

With such destruction their unnumber'd foes;

What scenes of havoc must th' untrodden paths,

Confin'd among the craggy hills, afford?

IMMERS'D in care the monarch silent sat.

Amid th' incircling peers Argestes stood.

A potent prince. On Sipylus he reign'd.

Whose lofty summits overlook'd the waves

Of Hermus and Pactolus; either stream

Enrich'd with golden sands its tribute bore

To this great satrap: through the servile court

Yet was there none more practic'd in the arts

Of mean submission; none more skill'd to gain

The royal favour; none, who better knew

The phrase, the looks, and gesture of a slave.

In soothing words he thus the king bespake.

IF Xerxes will to spare his faithful bands,

And not exert the terrours of his pow'r;

More gentle means of conquest than by arms,

Nor less secure may artifice supply.

Renown'd Darius, thy imperial sire

Great in the spoil of kingdoms, long in vain

The fields of proud Euphrates with his host

O'erspread; at length confiding in the wiles

Of Zopyrus the mighty king subdu'd

The Babylonian tow'rs: but who shall count,

What num'rous states by policy have fall'n;

And let corruption once her aid impart,

Not one shall stand. What race of men possess

Such probity and wisdom, whom the veil

Of craft may blind not, nor corruption's charm

Seduce. O Xerxes, thou, whom heav'n hath rais'd

To more than mortal greatness, canst thou find

Through all thy empire, which from India's shore

Shall reach Eurotas soon, no dazzling gift

To gain the Grecian leader? O dispel

The cloud of sadness from those sacred eyes,

And proffer streight to Lacedaemon's chief,

What may thy own munificence declare,

And win his sword to aid thee. Xerxes here,

Rous'd from his trance of sorrow, swift replied.

WISE are thy words and counsels. Go, repair,

My faithful servant, to the Grecian chief;

Fall down before him; bid him join our arms,

And he shall reign o'er all the Grecian states.

AT once Argestes leaves the monarch's side.

He now approaches to the Phocian wall.

Thence Dithyrambus leads him to the tent

Of Lacedaemon's king. Retreated there

Alone the hero meditating sat

On future woes to Persia. At his feet

Prone bows Argestes, and begun. Thus low

Before thy awful presence Xerxes wills,

That I should bend me prostrate to the earth,

And thus accost thee. Great and matchless chief,

By fortune favour'd, and belov'd by heav'n,

Thus says the lord of Asia; join our arms,

And we reward thee with the sov'reign rule

O'er all the pow'rful states of haughty Greece.

And, O illustrious warriour, heed my words.

Think on the bliss of royalty, the pomp

Of courts, their endless pleasures, trains of slaves,

Who restless watch for thee and thy delights,

With all the glories of unrivall'd sway.

Look on th' Ionic and Aeolian Greeks

From them their fantom liberty is flown,

While in each province, rais'd by Xerxes' hand,

Some favour'd chief presides (exalted state,

Which envious freedom gives not) on his head

He bears the gorgeous diadem, and sees

His equals once now prostrate at his throne.

Yet how much greater thou, whom gen'ral Greece,

That teems with mightiest states, shall call her lord,

Thee only worthy. How will Greece rejoice

Around thy throne, and hail th' auspicious hour,

When thou, selected by the Persian king

To bless consenting nations with thy sway,

Didst calm the fury of unsparing war,

Which else had delug'd all with blood and flames!

HE said. The chief replies not, but commands

The Thespian youth, who near the tent had watch'd,

To summon all the Grecians. He obeys.

While from his seat the hero mov'd, and bade

The Persian follow. He amaz'd attends,

Surrounded soon by all the Grecian bands;

When him the godlike Spartan thus bespake.

HERE, Persian, tell thy ambassy, repeat,

That to obtain my friendship Asia's lord

Bids me accept the sov'reignty of Greece;

Then view this band, whose valour shall preserve

That Greece unconquer'd, which your king bestows,

And strew your bodies on its crimson plains:

The indignation painted on their looks,

And gen'rous scorn shall answer for their chief.

THE hero ceas'd, when suddenly return'd

The speed of Alpheus; all suspended streight

On him direct their sight, who thus began.

E'ER I could join the Phocians, from the hill,

Which overhung the close defile, I view'd

The pow'rs of Persia. Down the narrow strait

No sooner gleam'd th' innumerable spears,

But by our angry destiny misled,

Or some curst daemon, enemy to Greece,

The Phocians quit their station. Through the pass

An inundation of Barbarians pours,

The traitor Epialtes is their guide,

And to Thermopylae directs their course.

HE here concludes. Unutterable fear

In horrid silence wrapt the list'ning throng,

Aghast, confounded; silent too were those,

Who knew no terrour, yet with wonder mute,

Thick-wedg'd inclos'd Leonidas around,

Who thus with calmest elocution spoke.

I NOW behold my destiny compleat,

And how at last Leonidas must die.

Here with the Spartans shall I rest behind

While you, my faithful, brave allies, retreat.

Then art thou near, thou glorious, sacred hour,

Which shalt my country's liberty confirm!

All hail! thou solemn period! thee the tongues

Of Virtue, Fame, and Freedom shall record,

And celebrate in ages yet unborn.

Then O farewel, Megistias wise and brave;

Thou too experienc'd, venerable chief,

Demophilus farewel: farewel to thee

Invincible Diomedon, to thee

Unequall'd Dithyrambus, and to all,

You other dauntless warriours, who may claim

Praise from my lips, and friendship from my heart,

You after all the wonders, which your swords

Have here accomplish'd, shall enrich your names

With fresh renown. Your valour must compleat,

What we begin. Here first th' astonish'd foe

A dying Spartan shall with terrour view,

And tremble, while he conquers; then, by fate

Led from his dreadful victory dismay'd

Against the phalanx of united Greece,

By your unconquer'd spears himself shall fall.

HERE interpos'd the fierce Plataean chief.

By the twelve Gods enthron'd in heav'n supreme,

By my fair name unsullied yet I swear,

Ne'er shall thy eyes, Leonidas, behold

Diomedon forsake thee. First let strength

Desert my limbs, and valour shun my heart.

Did I not face the Marathonian war?

Have I not seen Thermopylae? O Fame,

What more canst thou bestow, or I receive?

Where can I living purchase brighter praise,

Than dying here? A more illustrious tomb

Where can I gain, than underneath the heaps

Of Persians fall'n the victims of our sword.

He ended, when Demophilus subjoin'd.

O KING of Sparta, pride of human race,

Whom none e'er equall'd, but the seed of Jove,

Thy own forefather number'd with the Gods,

Lo! I am old. With faltring steps I tread

The prone descent of years. The winged hours

By me, as one unequal to their speed,

Who can no more their fleeting joys attain,

Unheeding slide. My youth my country claim'd,

My age no more can serve her; what remains?

What eligible hope can wisdom form,

But to die well? Upon this glorious earth

With thee, unrivall'd hero, will I close

The eve of life. So spake the hoary chief,

When Dithyrambus next. O first of Greeks,

Me too think worthy to attend thy fame

With this most dear and venerable man

For ever honour'd from my tend'rest age,

Ev'n till on life's extremity we part.

Nor too aspiring let my hopes be deem'd;

Should the Barbarian in his triumphs mark

My youthful limbs among the gory heaps,

Thence may his fears be doubled, when again

He meets in fields hereafter to be known

The Grecian standards, trembling at a foe,

To whom the flow'r, and blooming joys of life

Are less alluring than a noble fate.

TO him Demophilus. Wilt thou too bleed,

My Dithyrambus?—But I here withhold

All counsel from thee, who art wise, as brave.

If then thy magnanimity retain

Thee too with great Leonidas to fall,

At either's side our limbs shall press the ground,

And drop together in the arms of Death;

So if th' attentive traveller we draw

To our cold reliques, wondring shall he trace

The diff'rent scene, and pregnant with applause,

O wise old man, exclaim, thou well hast chose

The hour of fate: and O unequall'd youth,

Who to thy country didst thy bloom devote,

Mayst thou remain for ever dear to Fame!

May Time rejoice to name thee! and may Peace

With gentlest pinions hover o'er thy urn!

THIS said, the hero with his lifted shield

His face o'ershades, and drops a secret tear;

Not this the tear of anguish, but deriv'd

From fond affection grown mature with time;

Which in a feebler mind to pain had turn'd,

But in the Thespian's firm and virtuous breast,

Alone a manly tenderness awak'd

Unmix'd with pity, or with vain regret.

MEGISTIAS last address'd the Spartan chief.

Thou, whom the Gods have chosen to exalt

Above mankind in virtue and renown,

O call not me presumptuous, who implore

Among these heroes thy regardful ear!

To Lacedaemon I a stranger came.

You there preserv'd me, there with honours clad;

Nor have I yet one benefit repay'd.

That now the gen'rous Spartans may behold

In me their high beneficence not vain,

Here to their cause I consecrate my breath.

NOT so Megistias (interpos'd the king)

Thou and thy son retreat. Again the seer.

FORBID it, thou eternally ador'd,

O Jove, confirm my persevering soul!

Nor let my fear neglect this happy hour

To shew the Spartans, I deserv'd their care.

Thou, Menalippus, hear the king's command,

And my paternal tenderness revere.

Do thou withdraw thee from me, to my hand

Thy arms resigning. Fortune will supply

Fresh toil for valour. Vanquish then, or find

A glorious grave; but spare thy father's eye

The bitter anguish to behold thy youth

Untimely bleed before him. Grief suspends

His speech, and interchangeably their arms

Impart their last embraces. Either wept,

The hoary parent, and the blooming son.

But from his temples the pontific wreath

Megistias now unloosens, and resigns

His hallow'd vestments; while the youth with tears

The helmet buckles o'er his snowy locks,

And on his breast adjusts the radiant mail.

WHILE such contempt of life, such fervid zeal

To die with glory animate the Greeks,

Far other thoughts possess Argestes' soul.

Amaze with mingled terrour smote his heart;

Cold drops, distill'd from ev'ry pore, bedew

His shiv'ring limbs; his bosom pants; his knees

Yield to their burthen; ghastly pale his cheeks,

Pale are his lips and trembling: such the minds

Of slaves corrupt, to them the beauteous face

Of Virtue turns to horrour. But the chief

Of Lacedaemon now the wretch bespake.

RETURN to Xerxes; tell him on this rock

The Grecians faithful to their post await

His chosen myriads; tell him, thou hast seen,

How far the lust of empire is below

A free-born mind: and tell him, to behold

A tyrant humbled, and by virtuous death

To seal my country's freedom, is a good

Surpassing all, his boasted pow'r can give.

HE said, the Persian hastens through the pass.

But now once more Diomedon arose.

Wrath overcasts his forehead, while he spake.

YET more must stay and bleed. Inglorious Thebes

Ne'er shall receive her traitors back, but here

Shall they attone their perfidy by death

Ev'n from their swords, to whom their abject hearts

Have sacrific'd their faith. Nor dare to hope,

Ye vile deserters of the public weal,

Ye coward slaves, that mingled with the heaps

Of those, who perish in their country's cause,

You shall your shame conceal. Whoe'er shall pass

Along this field of glorious slain, and trace

With veneration ev'ry nobler corse;

His soul, though warm with generous applause,

A while shall curb the transport to repeat

Its execrations o'er your impious heads,

On whom that fate, which gives to others fame,

Is infamy and vengeance. Dreadful thus

On the pale Thebans sentence he pronounc'd,

Like Rhadamanthus, from th' infernal throne

When with inexorable frowns he doom'd

The guilty dead to ever-during pain;

While Phlegethon its flaming billows roll'd

Before their sight, and ruthless furies shook

Their hissing serpents. All the Greeks assent

With clamours echoing through the concave rock.

FORTH Anaxander in th'assembly stood,

And thus began with indignation feign'd.

If yet your clamours, Grecians, are allay'd,

Behold, I stand before you to demand,

Why these my brave companions, who alone

Of all the Thebans under my command

Durst force their passage through dissuading crouds

To join your host, should now be traitors deem'd;

Accus'd by one alone, a banish'd wretch,

Whom Lacedaemon in her anger drove

Far from her confines; one, who meanly sought

A servile court for shelter: has he drawn

Such virtues thence, that Sparta, who before

Held him unworthy of his native soil,

Should trust him now before auxiliar friends?

Injurious Greeks! we scorn the thought of flight.

Let Asia bring her millions; unconstrain'd

We wait the conflict, and for Greece will die.

THUS in the garb of virtue he adorn'd

Necessity, deluding ev'ry Greek

Except Laconia's hero. He perceiv'd

Through all its fair disguise the traitor's heart.

So, when at first mankind in science rude

Rever'd the moon, as bright with native beams,

Some sage, that walk'd with Nature through her works,

By Wisdom led, discern'd, the various orb

Itself was dark, in foreign splendours clad.

Now unexpected with his troop return'd

Dieneces, and thus to Sparta's king.

I NEED not tell thee, that the Persian pow'rs

Have pass'd the secret strait. This night they halt,

But with the morning will invade us here.

We come to die with thee. United thus,

Our strength a fiercer contest shall maintain;

Whence a more bright example to our friends,

And stronger terrour of the Grecian name.

HE said, when thus Leonidas began.

O Spartans, hear, and all you other Greeks,

Whose matchless virtue shall inroll your names

In Time's eternal records, and inhance

Your country's lustre; lo! the setting sun

Inflames the broad horizon. All retire,

And in your tents invoke the pow'r of sleep

To aid your vigour, and to give your limbs

Unwearied patience of continued toil;

But when the second watch begins, let all

With mutual exhortation rouse to arms:

For soon, as Cynthia from the vault of heav'n

Hath hung her shining lamp, through Asia's host

Shall death with horrour and amazement rage.

Their camp is open to our swords, depriv'd

Of all its chosen warriours. But I charge

All, ev'n the Spartans, who are maim'd, or weak,

To pain, or toil unequal, from our camp

This hour to hasten. You, our brave allies

Of Corinth, Phlius, with th' Arcadian bands

And Mycenaeans must not yet return,

But here, while we repose, in arms remain;

When we our tents abandon, then depart.

HE said, all heard obedient, and dispers'd;

While to his tent the godlike chief repairs,

And with him Agis, whom he thus bespake.

O AGIS, hear and mark my last command,

With wary skill dispose the nightly guard,

That no deserter from the Theban tents

May reach the camp of Asia, or ascend

To those now halting on the neighb'ring hills:

Nor yet with us the faithless band must join.

Not with such base associates must we trust

Our great design. Their perfidy might soon

Find means to rouse the unsuspecting foe,

And all our glorious enterprise confound.

Then, O my faithful Agis, e'er we move,

While on the solemn sacrifice intent,

As Lacedaemon's sacred laws ordain,

Our pray'rs we offer to the tuneful nine,

Do thou in whispers charge the Theban train

Slow and in silence to disperse and fly.

This said, they parted. On his couch alone

Reclines the hero, where he thus revolves.

MY fate is now impending. O my heart!

What more auspicious period could I chuse

For death, than now; when beating high with joy

Thou tell'st me, I am happy? If to live,

Or die, as Virtue dictates, be to know

The purest bliss; if she her charms display

Still beauteous, still unfading, still serene

To youth, to age, to death; whatever be

Those other climes of uncorruptive joy,

Which Heav'n in dark futurity conceals,

Still here, O Virtue, thou art all our good.

Then what a black, unspeakable reverse

The wretched offspring of Injustice prove?

What in the struggle of departing day,

When life's last glimpse extinguishing presents

Th' unknown, inextricable gloom of death?

But can I paint the terrours of a breast,

Where guilt resides? Leonidas forego

The horrible conception, seek again

Thy own untroubled heart, and grateful bow

To those benignant pow'rs, who fram'd thy mind

In crimes unfruitful, never to admit

The black impression of a guilty thought.

Else could I fearless thus relinquish life?

No. Such unshaken calmness from th' unjust

Is ever absent. Oft in them the rage

Of some prevailing passion for a time

Suppresses fear. Oft hurried on they lose

The sense of danger, when dominion, pow'r,

And purple pomp their dazzled sight enchant.

Yet still the joys of life alone they seek.

But he, who calmly meets resistless fate,

When glory only, and the gen'ral good

Invite him forward, must possess a soul,

Which all content deducing from itself

Can by unerring virtue's constant light

Discern, when death is worthy of his choice.

The man thus great and happy, in the scope

Of his large mind is stretch'd beyond his date;

Ev'n on this shore of being he in thought

Supremely bless'd anticipates the good,

Which late posterity from him derives.

THE hero clos'd his meditation here.

The swelling transports of his mind subside

In soft oblivion, while the silken plumes

Of sleep envelop his extended limbs.

End of the Seventh Book.

LEONIDAS. BOOK VIII.

The argument.

Leonidas rising about three hours before midnight relates to an assembly of the leaders a dream, which is interpreted by Megistias; he then arms himself, and marches in procession with his whole troop to an altar newly rais'd on a neighbouring meadow, and there offers a sacrifice to the Muses: he invokes the assistance of those Goddesses, he animates his companions, and then placing himself at their head leads them against the enemy in the dead of the night.

SCARCE was begun the second watch of night,

When his pavilion Agis left, and sought

The chief of Lacedaemon. Him he found

Spread on his tranquil couch, while, o'er his face

Diffus'd, a glad serenity with smiles

His slumber painted; like an ev'ning sky

Yet streak'd with ruddy light, when summer suns

Have veil'd their beaming foreheads. Transport fill'd

The eye of Agis. Friendship swell'd his heart,

And veneration. On his knee inclin'd

The hero's hand he kiss'd, and thus began.

O THOU with more than human virtues great,

Accept this homage! and may gentle sleep

Yet longer close thy eyelids, that unblam'd

I thus may bow before thee. Thus he spake,

And, prostrate bent, his godlike friend rever'd,

Whose eye the shades of slumber now forsake.

So, when new rising heav'n's resplendent orb

Illumines first the sable skirts of night,

The white-rob'd Magi, or the Indian seers

Are seen from Ganges, or Euphrates' side,

Before th' emerging glory bow'd to hail

The radiant emblem of th' immortal mind.

BOTH heroes rose, and mix'd their friendly arms,

And now to Agis had the Spartan king

Disclos'd his soul; when lo! the Grecian chiefs,

All rous'd, advancing with the sudden gleam

Of armour pierc'd the twilight shade. With joy

Leonidas accosts them. O thrice hail!

My virtuous friends. Approach, and all attend,

While I relate, and you with wonder hear.

This night no sooner sleep oppress'd my brows,

But o'er my head the empyreal form

Of my great sire Alcides seem'd display'd.

I saw his magnitude divine; his voice

I heard, his solemn mandate to arise.

I rose. He bade me follow: I obey'd.

Up to a mountain, whose ethereal brow

Th' involving clouds divided, we ascend.

E'er long we rested, suddenly the howl

Of wolves, and dogs, the vulture's piercing shriek,

The yell of ev'ry beast and fowl of prey,

Within my ears discordant broke. I turn'd.

When lo! a surface all with gore deform'd

Beyond my view illimitable stretch'd,

One vast expanse of horrour. There a corse,

Which with its huge dimensions seem'd to hide

Th' unbounded plain, lay welt'ring, red with wounds

Delv'd in th' enormous limbs, which bleeding gorg'd

The vulture's famine. Wond'ring I beheld,

When from behind I heard a second sound,

Like surges trembling o'er a craggy shore.

Again I turn'd. An ocean there appear'd

With riven keels, and shrouds, and shiver'd oars,

With arms, and mangled carcases bestrewn

Innumerous. The billows foam'd with blood,

And whelm'd a crimson deluge o'er the strand.

But where the waters unobserv'd before

Between two adverse shores contracting roll'd

A stormy tide, upon the beach, forlorn,

One of majestic stature I descried

In ornaments imperial. Oft on me

He bent his clouded eye-balls. On my name

With imprecations oft he call'd aloud,

Then rent his splendid garments, and his head

In rage divested of its graceful hairs.

Impatient now he ey'd a slender skiff,

Which mounted on the curling foam approach'd.

With indignation, and reluctant grief

Once more his sight reverting, he embark'd

Amid the perils of the frowning waves.

O thou, whose virtue rank'd thee with the Gods

(I here exclaim'd) instruct me what produc'd

This desolation; when the God return'd.

Let thy astonish'd eye again review

What thou didst late abhor. I look'd and saw

A land, where Plenty with disporting hand

Pour'd all the fruits of Amalthea's horn;

Where bloom'd the olive, and the clustring vine

With its broad foliage mantled ev'ry hill;

Where Ceres with exuberance inrob'd

The pregnant bosom of the fields in gold;

Where spacious towns, whose circuits proud contain'd

The dazling works of wealth, unnumber'd shone,

The strength and splendour of the peopled land.

Then in a moment clouds obscur'd my sight,

And all was vanish'd from my waking eyes.

THRICE we salute the omen (thus began

The sage Megistias) in thy mystic dream

I see the Grecian victories. The earth,

The deep shall own their triumphs; and the tears

Of Asia, and of Lybia shall bewail

Their offspring cast before the vulture's beak,

And all the monstrous natives of the main.

Those joyous fields of plenty shall be Greece

Enrich'd with conquest, and Barbarian spoils.

And whom thou saw'st in regal vesture clad

Print on the sands his solitary steps,

Is Xerxes foil'd and fugitive from Greece.

MEGISTIAS thus, while ev'ry bosom felt

Enthusiastic rapture, joy beyond

All sense, and all conception but of those,

Who die to save their country. Here again

Leonidas th' exulting chiefs address'd.

SINCE happiness from virtue is deriv'd,

Who for his country dies, that moment proves

Most happy, as most virtuous. Such our lot.

To this the gods shall add eternal fame.

But now go forth, Megistias, and with speed

Prepare the victim, and the sacred flames;

That to the Muses, as the Spartan law

Commands, our pray'rs and off'rings may be paid,

E'er to yon camp our hostile feet we bend.

But, O remember, from the solemn rites

Let ev'ry sound be absent, not the pipe,

Nor ev'n the music-breathing flute be heard.

Meantime, ye leaders, ev'ry band instruct

To move in silence, nor with shouts alarm

The midnight stillness. Mindful of their charge

The chiefs depart. Leonidas provides

His various armour. First the breastplate arms

His ample chest. O'er this the hero spreads

The mailed cuirass from his shoulders hung.

The shining belt infolds his mighty loins.

Next on his stately temples he erects

The plumed helm, then grasps his pond'rous shield;

Where nigh the center on the swelling brass

Th' inimitable artist had imboss'd

The shape of great Alcides, whom to gain

Two Goddesses contended. Pleasure here

Won with soft wiles th' attracted eye, and there

The form of Virtue dignified the scene.

In her majestic sweetness was disclos'd

The mind sublime and happy. From her lips

Seem'd eloquence to flow. With looks serene,

But fix'd intent upon the son of Jove,

She wav'd her hand, where winding to the skies

Her paths ascended. On the summit stood

Fame, and protended her eternal trump,

Incumbent on a trophy near to heav'n.

The youth attentive to her wisdom own'd

The prevalence of Virtue; while his eye

With all the spirit, which redeem'd the world

From tyranny and monsters, ardent flam'd;

Not undescried by Pleasure, where she lay

Stretch'd on a gorgeous carpet, which bespread

The meadow with magnificence. Around

Were flourets strewn, and wantonly in rills

Soft streams maeander'd. All relax'd her limbs:

Nor wanting yet solicitude to gain,

What lost she fear'd, as struggling with despair

She seem'd collecting all her power of charms,

And with excess of sweet allurement smil'd:

In vain; for Virtue sway'd Alcides' mind.

Hence all his labours. Trac'd with various art

They fill'd the surface of the spacious targe.

This portraiture of glory on his arm

Leonidas supports. Then forth he tow'rs

From his pavilion. With their troops array'd

The chiefs attended. Flaming torches blaz'd

In ev'ry hand. And now with silent pace

All to the solemn sacrifice proceed.

First Polydorus with the hallow'd knife,

And barley strew'd with sacred salt advanc'd.

Diomedon beside him, in his grasp

A weighty mace sustaining. Like the rest

All bright in armour with his shield and spear

Megistias follow'd, an unspotted priest,

And dauntless warriour. From on high his helm

With wreaths around the shining crest reveal'd

His sacerdotal honours. By the horns,

Where laurels twin'd, with Alpheus Maron leads

The consecrated ox. And lo! behind

Leonidas approaches. Ne'er before

With such transcending majesty he trod,

Nor his own virtue, as that hour, enjoy'd.

Then venerable moves the Thespian chief,

And great Dieneces. To them the bloom

Of Dithyrambus glowing with the sense

Of future praise succeeds, with graceful steps

The gen'rous Agis next; the Thebans last

Repining and inglorious. Then slow march

The host all mute, nor shake their brazen arms.

NOT from Thermopylae remote the hills

Of Oeta yielding to a fruitful dale

Within their side half-circling had inclos'd

A fair expanse with verdure smooth. The bounds

Were edg'd with wood o'erlook'd by snowy cliffs,

Which from the clouds bent frowning. From a rock

Above the loftiest summit of the groves

A tumbling torrent wore the shagged stone,

Then gleaming through the interwoven shade

The valley water'd. O'er the level shone

Its glassy bosom, and with placid waves

The smiling lawn divided. Near the banks,

Which flow'rs made various, new-erected stood

A rustic altar, which a chosen train,

Appointed by Megistias, rais'd with turf

Cut by their falchions from the verdant mead:

Broad was the surface, high with piles of wood,

The plenteous tribute of th' adjacent groves,

All interspers'd with laurel. Here a vase

Fill'd with the briny waters of the sea,

(More pure than ev'ry stream, or fountain, deem'd)

Was plac'd beside the altar. There with wine

Unmix'd capacious goblets stood arrang'd.

Here is the victim brought. Megistias streight

His helm unloosens. With his hoary head

Uncover'd round the solemn pile he treads,

And with a branch of laurel scatters wide

The sacred moisture of the main. His hand

With mingled salt and barley next bestrews

The altar, and the victim. O'er the horns

Th' inverted goblet foaming with the grape

Diffus'd the rich libation. Now advanc'd

Diomedon. Megistias gave command.

Down sunk the victim with a deathful stroke,

Nor groan'd. Megistias buries in the throat

The hallow'd steel. A crimson deluge flows.

Swift from the limbs the fuming hide is torn,

The flesh dissever'd on the altar heap'd.

Now smoaks the pile, then sudden flames abroad.

A burst of splendour dissipates the dark.

Greece throngs around. Each lifts a sparkling brand

With beaming javelins intermix'd, and shields,

And polish'd helms, which multiply the blaze.

Meantime the great Leonidas drew nigh,

And stood before the altar. There his helm

Unclasp'd to Agis he commits, his shield

And spear to Dithyrambus, then his arms

Extending thus in supplication spoke.

HARMONIOUS daughters of Olympian Jove,

Who on the top of Helicon ador'd,

And high Parnassus, with delighted ears

Bend to the warble of Castalia's wave,

And Aganippe's murmurs, if from thence

We must invoke your presence; or along

The ridge of neighb'ring Pindus if your steps

Now wander through your consecrated bow'rs,

Thence turn, ye Muses, nor for once disdain

Each with her beauteous form these hills to grace,

And stand th' immortal witness of our fate!

But with you bring fair Liberty, whom Jove

And you most honour. Let her sacred eyes

Approve her dying Grecians, let her voice

With exultation tell the earth and heav'ns,

These are her sons; then strike your tuneful shells,

And with our praise bid harmony rejoice.

Record us guardians of our parents age,

Our matrons virtue, and our infants bloom,

And glorious bulwarks of our country's laws,

Who shall enoble the historian's page,

Or on the joyous festival inspire

With loftier strains the virgins choral song.

Then, O celestial maids, on yonder camp

Let night sit heavy, and a sleep, like death,

Weigh down the eye of Asia! O infuse

A cool, untroubled spirit in our breasts,

Which may in silence guide our daring feet

Through all the paths of slaughter, nor affright

The dark with tumult, till the dying groans

Of gasping tyrants into horrour wake

The midnight calm! Then turn Destruction wild.

Bid Terrour and Confusion revel round,

And in one carnage heap the Barb'rous ranks,

Their horse, and chariots. Let the spurning steed

Imbrue his hoofs with blood, and shatter'd cars

Crush with their brazen weight the prostrate necks

Of kings, and purpled chiefs incircled round

By nations fall'n.—You, countrymen and friends,

My last commands attend. Your gen'ral's voice

Once more salutes you, not to rouse the brave,

Or minds resolv'd and dauntless to confirm.

Too well by this expiring blaze I view

Impatient valour flash from ev'ry eye.

But temper well your ardour, and your lips

Close on the rising transport. Lo! how sleep

Hath folded millions in its black embrace.

No sound is wasted from th' unnumber'd foe.

The winds themselves are silent. All conspires

To this great sacrifice, where thousands soon

Shall only wake to die. Perhaps our swords

This night may send ev'n Xerxes' self to lead

Th' innumerable train of Persian ghosts

To Pluto's dreery shade, unless reserv'd

From all this ruin, to lament his shame,

And future flight, when Greece confounds that pow'r,

Which we will shake. But now the second watch

Is verging to its period, and the moon

Prepares to glimmer on our darksome steps.

Let each his head distinguish with a wreath

Of twining laurel, then the goblet crown,

And share the victim. Take your last repast,

For with your fathers, and the heroes old

You next shall banquet in the blest abodes.

WHILE thus the hero, through the thronging files

Presenting round a hideous depth of war

All shook with ardour their erected spears

Thick, as the fruitful growth of lofty pines,

Which from high Pelion's cloud-invested brow

To heav'n's blue vault their stately honours bear.

Megistias soon through all the band divides

The sacred laurel: snatch'd with eager zeal,

By ev'ry hand, and round each helmet wove

It blends its verdure with the floating plumes.

Then is the victim portion'd, while the bowl

Flows with the vine's impurpled stream. Aloof

The Theban train in wan dejection mute

Brood o'er their shame, or cast a frighted eye

On that determin'd virtue, which unmov'd

At fate's approach with chearful lips could taste

The sparkling goblet, and with joy partake

That last and glorious banquet. Ev'n the heart

Of Anaxander now forgets its wiles,

Its fear no more dissembling. Agis here

For ever mindful of his friend's command

Mix'd with the Thebans, and in whispers thus.

LEONIDAS permits you to retire.

While in the rites of sacrifice employ'd

None heed your motions. Separate, and fly

With silent steps. At once the Theban troop

Its ranks dissolving from the Greeks withdraws.

Unseen it moulders from the host, like snow,

Which from the mountains in ten thousand rills,

Soon as the sun exerts his orient beam,

Descends soft-trickling, while the hoary heap

Insensibly decays. The Grecians soon

Conclude the solemn banquet, and their chief

Now reassumes his arms. Before his step

The croud rolls backward. In their gladden'd sight

His crest irradiate with th' uplifted brands

Its purple splendour shakes. The tow'ring oak

Thus from a lofty promontory waves

Its majesty of verdure, while with joy

The sailor marks its heav'n-ascending pride,

Which from afar directs his foamy course

Along the pathless Ocean: so the Greeks

Exulting gaz'd, as down their op'ning ranks

Their chief proceeds; from whose majestic grace

A soul like thine, O Phidias, might conceive

In Parian marble, or effulgent brass,

The form of great Apollo; when the God,

Won by the pray'rs of man's afflicted race,

In arms forsook his lucid throne to pierce

The monster Python in the Delphian vale.

Close by the hero Polydorus waits

To guide destruction through the Asian tents.

As the young eagle near his parent's side

In wanton flight essays his vig'rous wings,

E'er long with her to penetrate the clouds,

To dart impetuous on the fleecy train,

And dye his beak with gore; by Sparta's king

The injur'd Polydorus thus prepares

His arm for death, and feasts his angry soul

With promis'd vengeance: his impatient thoughts

Ev'n now transport him furious to the seat

Of his long sorrows not with shackled hands,

But now once more a Spartan with his shield,

And dreadful spear to lead his country's bands,

And with them vengeance. Nor the rest of Greece

Neglect to form. Their helmets now unite

Their various plumage, as th' intwining boughs

Mix their broad foliage in Dodona's grove;

Or like the cedars on the Syrian hills,

Which with their shady texture, as with night,

The gloomy soil o'ercast. In order'd ranks

While thus they stand, behold a warlike form

In gleaming arms slow-moving through the shade,

Led by a slave, approach'd Laconia's king,

And thus address'd him. O Leonidas,

Thou seest before thee Eurytus, a name

To thee and ev'ry Spartan not unknown.

Thy ruling voice forbade the maim'd to stay;

I, whose dark orbs no longer know the sun,

Immers'd in sudden blindness since our march

From Lacedaemon, with the rest withdrew,

Not to revisit Sparta, but, resolv'd

To meet the Persians, in the public way

I sat; not long, before th' increasing sound

Of trampling feet alarm'd me, which I deem'd

Were Persia's numbers rushing from the hills:

I started upward grasping in my hand

My spear and buckler, by my slave withheld,

Who told me, they were Thebans. Lo! I bear

The tydings of their flight. And now, my chief

And countrymen, farewel. Do you proceed,

With death and terrour fill the hostile camp;

While I the fury of th' exulting foe

Descending from the mountains here await

To yield the last remains of tedious life

Now to my country useless, and to me,

And close these shaded eyes in endless night.

HE ceas'd, when thus Leonidas began.

Then stay, my faithful soldier, and obtain

Not the least honours in this glorious night;

And you, my brave associates, all exult;

One spirit now inspires us; from our band

Doubt, fear, and treason with the Thebans fly:

While all with mutual confidence advance,

And equal fires. This said, once more the king

On the deep phalanx his attentive eye

Reverts, and through the ruddy gleam descries

One face of gladness; but th' illustrious van

He most contemplates: Agis, Alpheus there,

Megistias, Maron, and Plataea's chief,

Dieneces, Demophilus are drawn,

And Dithyrambus. They their fixed sight

On him too bend with inexpressive joy,

With love, and veneration, till they hear

His last command; when instant to the earth

Are cast th' extinguish'd brands. On all around

Drops sudden darkness, on the hills, the woods,

The silver stream, the rocks, and floating main.

It now was midnight. To the hostile camp

With steps compos'd and silent down the pass

The phalanx moves. Each patient bosom hush'd

Its struggling spirit, nor in whispers breath'd

The rapt'rous ardour, virtue then inspir'd;

But all await the moment doom'd to give

The Barb'rous millions to their deathful steel:

So low'ring clouds expanding from the north

A while suspend their horrours, destin'd soon

To blaze in lightnings, and to burst in storms.

End of the Eighth Book.

LEONIDAS. BOOK IX.

The argument.

Leonidas and the Grecians penetrate through the Persian camp to the very pavilion of Xerxes, who avoids destruction by flight. The Barbarians are slaughter'd in great multitudes, and their camp is set on fire. Leonidas conducts his men back to Thermopylae, engages the Persians, who were descended from the hills, and after numberless proofs of superiour strength and valour sinks down cover'd with wounds, and expires the last of all the Grecian commanders.

THE waining moon display'd her gleaming horns,

When o'er th' unguarded bound of Asia's camp

Now pass'd the Grecians. Through th' unnumber'd tents,

Where all was mute and tranquil, they pursue

Their silent march. The eastern world around

Lay stretch'd in slumber, motionless, and deaf,

Wrapt in the dead security of night,

Nor mark'd the steps of Fate. The wary Greeks

By Polydorus guided still proceed.

Ev'n to the center of th' extensive host

Unseen they pierc'd, when now th' imperial tent

Yet distant rose before them. Wide around

The proud pavilion stretch'd an ample space,

Where myriads might imbattle. Here a band

Of chosen Persians watchful round their king

Held their nocturnal station. As the hearts

Of anxious nations menac'd with the waste

Of meager famine, and the ruthless sword

Sink in their frozen bosoms, while despair

Sees fear-ingender'd fantoms in the sky,

Aërial hosts amid the clouds array'd,

Which seem to shake the firmament with war,

Portending woe and death; the Persians thus

Are smote with consternation, as the moon

By her faint beam discover'd from afar

The glimpse of Grecian arms. With sudden cries

They waken Horrour, which to Xerxes' couch,

And o'er th' astonish'd host, swift-winged flew

Dispelling sleep and silence. All the camp

Pours forth its numbers naked, pale, unarm'd,

Wild with amazement, blinded by dismay,

To ev'ry foe obnoxious; when at once

Plung'd in ten thousand breasts the Grecian steel

Reeks with destruction. Deluges of blood

Float o'er the field, and foam around the heaps

Of wretches slain unconscious of the hand,

Which mows them down by legions. From his couch

The lord of Asia and of L•bia st••••

(Amaze, affright, distraction in his look)

And sees in thought united Greece advance.

Where then was fled the empty pride of kings,

The hope of glory, and the lust of pow'r?

What then avail'd th' innumerable range

Of thy huge camp save only to conceal

Thy trembling steps, O Xerxes, while thou fliest.

Leonidas before the Grecian van

Through bleeding thousands hews his dreadful way.

Before him Terrour strides. Gigantic Death,

And Desolation at his side attend,

With all the Furies of insatiate war.

To Xerxes' tent the hero speeds, nor finds

His victim. Ardent throngs of Grecians fill

The stately mansion; to the ground are hurl'd

The glitt'ring ensigns of imperial pow'r:

The diadem, the scepter, late ador'd

And fear'd by millions, underneath their feet

With mingled rage and scorn the Grecians crush,

A sacrifice to Freedom. Now return

The furious bands. Leonidas exalts

For new destruction his resistless spear,

When sudden night o'ershrouds the spangled heav'ns,

And clouds condensing intercept the moon.

Black o'er the furrow'd main the raging east

In whirlwinds sweeps the surge. Now roars the coast,

The crashing forests, and the cavern'd rocks.

Swift through the camp the hurricane impells

Its dire career, when Asia's numbers, veil'd

Amid the shelt'ring horrours of the storm,

Evade the Spartan lance. The Grecians halt,

By great Leonidas restrain'd, and wait

Near Xerxes' tent their mighty leader's will.

BESIDE the high pavilion from the time,

That Xerxes near Thermopylae had drawn

His num'rous bands, perpetual fire had shone;

Before whose sacred light the Persian lord

Was wont among his Magi to adore

The power of Oromasdes: piles of wood

Lay nigh, prepar'd to feed the constant flame.

These on the altar by the Greeks are strewn,

So wills Laconia's hero; while the winds

Excite the blaze, his phalanx he divides;

Four bands are form'd by Dithyrambus led,

By Alpheus, by Diomedon, the last

Himself commands. The word is giv'n; the Greeks

Press to the fire; soon shrink the burning heaps;

Destructive flames they brandish, and, injoin'd

To reassemble at the regal tent,

By various paths the hostile camp invade.

RESISTLESS desolation now involves

The Malian fields, as o'er the eastern tents

From diff'rent stations flew ten thousand brands

Hurl'd by the Greeks unrespited. The winds

With violence redoubled breathing round

Tempestuous rage exasperate the blaze.

The conflagration, like a sea, expands;

Collected now from ev'ry part it forms

One waving surface of unbounded fire.

In ruddy volumes mount the curling flames

To heav'n's dark vault, and paint the midnight clouds.

So, when the north emits its purpled lights,

The undulating radiance streaming wide,

As with a burning canopy, invests

Th' ethereal concave. Oeta now disclos'd

Its forehead glitt'ring with eternal frost,

While down the rocks the foamy torrents shone.

Far o'er the main the pointed rays were thrown;

Night snatch'd her mantle from the ocean's breast;

The billows glimmer from the distant shores.

But where ascends a pillar huge of smoke

With wreathing flames incircled, Horrour there

And Death on great Leonidas attend.

He bade th' exulting Polydorus lead,

Where Asia's horse and chariots stood arrang'd;

There at his word devouring Vulcan feasts

On all the tribute, which Thessalia's meads

Yield to the scythe, and riots on the heaps

Of Ceres emptied of the ripen'd grain.

A flood of fire envelopes all the ground;

The cordage bursts of ev'ry blazing tent;

Down sink the roofs, and overwhelm the throng

Of wretches panting from the Spartan sword,

Close-wedg'd with fear; the Libyan chariot burns,

Th' Arabian camel, and the Persian steed

Bound through the fiery deluge; wild with pain

They shake their singed manes, with madding hoofs

Dash through the blood of thousands mix'd with flames,

That rage augmented by the whirlwind's blast.

MEANTIME the scepter'd lord of half the globe

Through the wide tumult, like a guilty slave,

From tent to tent precipitates his flight.

Dispers'd are all his satraps; Pride itself

Shuns his dejected brow; Despair alone

With pale Confusion, and with frantic Fear

Wait on th' imperial fugitive, and shew,

As round the camp his eye distracted roves,

No limits to destruction. Now was seen

Aurora mounting from the eastern hills

In rosy sandals, and with dewy locks:

The winds subside before her, darkness flies,

And streams of light proclaim the chearful day.

When now at Xerxes' tent the Grecian band

Was reunited. What could Fortune more

To aid the valiant, and to gorge revenge?

Lo! Desolation o'er the Persian host

Hath emptied all its horrours; ev'n the hand

Of languid slaughter drops its crimson steel;

Nor Nature longer can sustain the toil

Of ever-during conquest. Yet what pow'r

Among the Grecians once again reviv'd

Their drooping warmth; new-brac'd their nerves, and call'd

Their wearied swords to deeds of brighter fame?

What, but th' inspiring hope of glorious death

To crown their labour, and th' auspicious look

Of their heroic chief, which still unchang'd,

Still with superiour majesty declar'd

No toil had yet relax'd his matchless strength,

Nor worn the vigour of his godlike soul.

Down to the pass with gentle march he leads

Th' imbattled warriors. There behind the shrubs,

Which near the verdant feet of Oeta sprung,

Beside the entrance of the straits the Greeks

In ambush lay. The tempest now was calm'd;

Soft breezes only from the Malian wave

O'er each grim face besmear'd with smoke and gore

Their cool refreshment breath'd. The healing gale

Dispells the languor from their harass'd limbs,

Which swell with strength returning. After all

Th' incessant labours of the horrid night

Through flames and war continu'd, they prepare

In order'd battle to confront the pow'rs

Of Hyperanthes, that selected band

From Asia's numbers, destin'd with the morn

To pass the mountains in triumphant march

With strength unwasted, and with souls elate.

Not long the Greeks in expectation stood

Impatient. Sudden with tumultuous shouts,

Like Nile's swift current, where with deafning roar

Prone from the steep of Elephantis falls

Its sea of waters, Hyperanthes pours

His rapid legions o'er the Grecian camp

Down from the hills precipitant. No foe

Is found to stop the torrent; on they roll

With thund'ring footsteps o'er the sounding pass.

THAT night no sooner had the Theban train

Thermopylae forsaken, but their course

They bent along the mountains, till they met

The pow'rs of Xerxes. Dusky twilight still

Prevailing, Persia with misguided rage

Assail'd her friends unknown. Th'impetuous spear

Of Hyperanthes clove the faithless heart

Of Anaxander; on, the hero press'd,

And spread destruction through their bleeding ranks;

Nor check'd his ardent valour, till he heard

The name of Thebes in suppliant cries proclaim'd:

The Persians then receive them, in the front

As guides they place them, and, amaz'd to learn,

That daring Greece should Xerxes' camp invade,

Haste from the mountains, rush along the pass,

And now tumultuous issue from its mouth.

At once Laconia's leader gives the sign,

When, as th' impulsive ram with dreadful sway

O'erturns the nodding rampart from its base,

And strews a town with ruin, so the band

Of serried heroes down the Malian steep,

An hideous depth, the blended numbers swept

Of Thebes and Persia. There no waters flow,

But horrid rocks present their craggy sides;

There dash'd whole legions. From their mangled limbs

A tide of blood rolls foaming to the sea.

Again thy voice, Leonidas, is heard;

The Grecians turn; against the op'ning pass

They point their wheeling phalanx; on they rush.

Astonish'd Persia stops in full career,

Ev'n Hyperanthes starts with terrour back.

Confusion drives fresh numbers from the shore,

Whelm'd in the Malian slime. Th' undaunted king

Of Lacedaemon enter'd now the straits,

And rang'd for battle. Hyperanthes soon

Recall'd his chosen warriours from their fear.

Swift on the great Leonidas was bent

A grove of darts; th' incount'ring armies clos'd.

WHOM first, whom last, great Spartan, didst thou foil?

What rivers heard along their echoing banks

Thy name in curses sounded from the lips

Of mothers wailing for their slaughter'd sons!

What towns with empty monuments were fill'd

For those, whom thy unconquerable sword

This day to vultures cast! First Bessus died,

A haughty satrap, whose tyrannic hand

Despoil'd Hyrcania of her golden sheaves,

And laid her forests waste. For him the bees

Among the branches interwove their sweets;

For him the fig was ripen'd, and the vine

With rich profusion o'er the goblet foam'd.

Then Dinis bled. On Hermus' side he reign'd,

And long had sought with unavailing love

Great Artemisia fam'd in Xerxes' fleet,

The martial queen of Caria. She disdain'd

The lover's soft complaint; her dauntless ear

Was taught to mark the tempest, while it rag'd;

Her sight was practic'd from the rolling deck

To brave the chafing billows; doom'd to meet

That day of horrour, when the weeping eye

Of Xerxes saw the blood of nations flow,

And to its bottom tinge the briny floods

Of Salamis, whence she with Asia fled,

She only not inglorious: low reclines

Her lover now, on Hermus' banks no more

To sound her name, nor tell the vocal groves

His fruitless sorrows. Then Madauces fell,

A Paphlagonian born amid the sound

Of dashing surges, and the roar of winds;

Who o'er th' unhospitable Euxine waves

Was wont from high Carambis' cliff to watch

Th' ill-fated bark, which cut the Pontic stream,

Then with his dire associates through the deep

For spoil and slaughter guide his hostile prow.

With these Tithraustes far from Medus fall'n,

His native tide, with blooming strength indu'd,

And manly grace, Lilaeus, who had left

The balmy fragrance of Arabia's fields,

And Babylonian Tenagon expir'd.

His bravest friends on ev'ry side o'erthrown

With indignation Hyperanthes view'd,

And in fierce haste his dauntless arm oppos'd.

To Sparta's hero. Each his lance protends,

But thousands rush with interposing shields,

Such sacred lives all anxious to defend;

Or thither Fortune urg'd the tide of war,

Their term protracting for augmented fame.

So, when two gallies lab'ring through the foam

Present for battle their destructive beaks,

The billows oft, by hurricanes impell'd,

With mountainous commotion dash between,

And either bark in black'ning tempests veil'd

Waft from its distant foe. But fiercer burn'd

Thy ardour, mighty Spartan, while in blood

Thy falchion rag'd unwearied. Now the steeds

Of day were climbing their meridian steep,

And o'er the Persian camp the shouts of war

Burst from Thermopylae. Pharnuchus heard,

Who from his couch beyond the Malian plain,

Rous'd by the tumult in the neighb'ring tents

To aid his lord had left Thessalia's fields

With Syria, Cholchis, and Armenia's bands,

Th' Assyrians, and Chaldaeans. Asia's camp

Was still the seat of terrour and despair.

As in some fruitful clime, which late hath known

The rage of winds and floods, when now the storm

Is heard no longer and the deluge fled,

Still o'er the wasted region Nature mourns

In melancholy silence, through the grove

With prostrate glories lie the stately oak

And elm uprooted, while the plains are spread

With fragments swept from villages o'erthrown,

And round the pastures flocks and herds are cast

In weltring heaps of death; so Persia's host

In horrour mute one boundless scene displays

Of desolation: half devour'd by fire

Its tall pavilions, and its warlike cars

Hide all the field with ruin; here in gore

Its princes lie, and nameless thousands there,

Here legions bleeding by the Grecian steel,

There Persians slain by Persians still declare

The wild confusion of the direful night,

When wanting signals, and their leaders care

They rush'd to mutual slaughter. Xerxes' tent

On its exalted summit, when the dawn

First streaks the glowing sky, was wont to bear

The golden form of Mithra, clos'd between

Two lucid crystals, to the Barb'rous host

An awful signal all in arms to leave

Their crouded tents, and numberless to wait

Their monarch's presence; this Pharnuchus rears

High on the proud pavilion: at the sight

Their consternation is at length dispell'd,

And through th' assembling nations hope revives.

Pharnuchus then from all the number forms

A chosen train; Thermopylae he seeks;

Their march in loudest clamours is proclaim'd.

His phalanx soon Leonidas commands

To circle backward from the Malian shore:

Their order changes; now half-orb'd they stand

By Oeta's mountains guarded from behind

With either flank united to the rock.

As, by th' excelling architect dispos'd

To shield some haven, a stupendous mole

Fram'd of the grove and quarry's mingled strength

In ocean's bosom penetrates afar;

There stands the pride of art against the weight

Of seas, unmov'd, and breaks the whelming surge:

So, when Pharnuchus with innum'rous pow'rs

Thermopylae had fill'd, th' unyielding Greeks

Oppos'd the hostile deluge, and its rage,

Unshaken stem'd. Amid the foremost rank

Leonidas his dreadful station held.

Before him soon an horrid void is seen

Through Persia's legions, and the proud remains

Of noblest chiefs th' insanguin'd rock bestrew.

Pharnuchus glowing with revenge and wrath

Discharges full at Lacedaemon's chief

His iron-studded mace. Aside it glanc'd,

Turn'd by the massy shield, and prone to earth

The Persian fell. Alcander to the rock

Transfix'd the prostrate satrap through the reins,

Himself receiving in th' unguarded side

The lance of Hyperanthes. Low he lies,

The only Theban, who by Sparta's king

Abode intrepid, and to Greece preserv'd

His faith untainted; a physician sage,

Who from Cithaeron each benignant herb

Was wont to gather, and expatiate o'er

The Heliconian pastures, where no plant

Of poison springs, but such, whose healing juice

Expells the venom from the viper's tooth

Fill'd with the sweetness of the soil divine:

Him all, who languish on the bed of pain,

Him most, the wretch, whom want, and sickness spreads

On earth's cold breast neglected, shall deplore.

On him the brave Artontes sinks in death,

Renown'd through wide Bithynia now no more

The clam'rous rites of Cybele to share,

While Echo murmurs through the hollow caves

Of Berecynthian Dindymus. The hand

Of Alpheus sent him to the shades of night.

E'er from the dead he disingag'd his spear,

Huge Abradates glorying in his strength,

Surpassing all of Cissian race, advanc'd

To grapple with the victor; near him now

His foremost step the Persian plants, his hand

Grasps at the Spartan's shoulder. Alpheus once

At Nemea's games the wrestlers crown obtain'd.

His art he summons, and his rapid foot

Obliquely strikes against the Persian's heel;

He falling seiz'd on Alpheus' neck, and drag'd

His foe upon him. Streight an hundred darts

Of thronging Persia cleave the Grecian's back.

To Abradates' breast the weapons pierce,

And rivet both in death. This Maron saw,

And Polydorus, who with victims fall'n

Before their vengeance hide their brother's corse.

At length the gen'rous blood of Maron warms

The lance of Hyperanthes. On the spear

Of Polydorus falls the pond'rous ax

Of Sacian Mardus; from the yielding wood

The steely point is sever'd. Undismay'd

The Spartan stoops to rear the knotted mace

Of slain Pharnuchus; but thy fatal sword,

Abrocomes, that dreadful instant marks

To rend his op'ning side: unconquer'd still,

Swift he discharges on the Sacian's front

An horrid wound, that reach'd the bursting brain.

Down his own limbs the while a torrent flows

Of vital crimson; smiling he surveys

His sorrows ending, and his Spartan name

Renew its lustre. Sudden to his side

Springs Dithyrambus; through th' uplifted arm

Of Mindus pointing his impetuous dart

Against the bleeding Spartan he impells

His steel resistless. Polydorus now

Stretch'd his cold hand to Thespia's friendly chief,

Then bow'd his head in everlasting peace;

And Mindus wasted by his flowing wound

Beside him faints and dies. In Ninus old

Had his exalted ancestors sustain'd

Th' Assyrian scepter. Now to Persia's throne

A tributary lord he rul'd the vales,

Where Tigris swift between the parted hills

Of tall Niphátes draws its foaming tide,

Impregnating the glebe. At once a croud

Of ardent Persians seize the conqu'ror's lance:

An hundred arms infold it. Thespia's youth

With one strong hand maintains the struggling spear,

The other bares his falchion. Through his foes

With lightning wing'd it scatters wounds and death.

Artáphrenes in torture feels his arm

Lopt from the shoulder. Zatis leaves his hand

Yet twining round the long-disputed lance.

On Pheron's neck descends the pond'rous blade;

Down drops the sever'd head; the vital stream

Spouts from its purple sluices. Mardon strides

Across the pointed ash. His weight o'ercomes

The wearied Grecian, who resigns his hold,

Yet cleaves th' exulting Persian to the brain.

But now the fierce Abrócomes approach'd,

And louring shakes his dart. The wary Greek

With his broad buckler intercepts the stroke,

And closes with the Persian. Then what aid

Of mortal force, or interposing heav'n

Preserv'd the eastern warrior? Lo! the friend

Of Teribazus eager to avenge

His lov'd companion, and at once to guard

A brother's life, beneath the sinewy arm

That instant rais'd for slaughter plung'd his lance

In Dithyrambus' side. The vital strings

At once relax; nor Fame, nor Greece demand

More from his valour, and supine he lies

In glories ripen'd on his blooming head.

Him shall the Thespian virgins in their songs

Record one loveliest of the youthful train,

The good, the gentle, generous, and brave;

Now fall'n his country's grace, and parent's pride:

So sinks the cedar, which in verdant bloom

High on the top of Libanus had stood

The mountain's boast, and glory of the grove;

Then to adorn the mansions of the great,

Or dignify some God's high-vaulted fane

Uprooted low'rs its heav'n-aspiring head.

Diomedon bursts forward. Round his friend

He heaps destruction. What a troop of ghosts

Attend thy shade, fall'n hero! Long unmatch'd

Prevail'd his vengeful arm, and Persia bled;

Till four Assyrians on his shelving lance,

E'er yet extracted from a prostrate corse,

Their pond'rous maces all discharge. It broke.

Yet with the truncheon of his shatter'd spear

The Greek sustains the contest. Through his eye

The shiver'd fragment penetrates the brain

Of one bold warriour; there the splintry wood

Infix'd remains: the hero then unsheaths

His falchion broad; a second views aghast

His entrails falling, while Plataea's chief

From the gash'd belly draws his reeking sword:

Prone sinks a third beneath the falchion's weight;

Though with the furious stroke the yielding blade

Flew from the hilt, and left the Greek disarm'd:

The fourth that instant lifts his knotted mace;

It falls resistless on the batter'd helm,

And low the great Diomedon extends

His mighty limbs. So weaken'd by the force

Of some tremendous engine, which the hand

Of Mars impells, a stately turret spreads

Its disuniting ramparts on the plain;

Joy fills th' assailants, while the battle's tide

Whelms o'er the widening breach. The Persians thus

O'er the late-fear'd Diomedon had rush'd,

And swept the Greeks before them; when behold

Leonidas! At once their ardour froze.

He had a while within the orb retir'd,

Oppress'd by labour. Now with strength restor'd

He pours fresh ruin from the Spartan front.

As, long retarded by th' unmoving calm,

Soon, as a rising gale fresh-breathing curls

The surging main, again the vessel bounds

With all her op'ning sails; the hero thus

His buckler huge, and formidable spear

Advancing, through the Asian files renews

His course of slaughter. Destiny compells

The bold Hydarnes to th' unequal fight,

Who proudly vaunting left his weeping bride

To mourn his absence on the distant verge

Of Bactrian Ochus. Victory in vain

He parting promis'd. Wanton hope no more

Round his cold heart delusive sports, nor paints

Th' imagin'd pomp of triumphs, gorgeous spoils,

And trains of shackled Greeks. The Spartan pierc'd

His shield, and bursting corselet. From the slain

The victor draws his iron-pointed spear

Bent, and infeebled with the forceful blow.

Meantime within his buckler's verge, unseen

Amphistreus stealing in th' unguarded flank

His poniard struck. With swift effusion gush'd

A crimson torrent, but the scaly mail

Immediate death repell'd. Th' indignant king

Gripes with resistless might the Persian's throat,

And drags him prostrate. None in Xerxes' court

Was more corrupt, with insolence more base,

With rancour more fallacious. Phrygia pin'd

Beneath th' oppression of his ruthless sway.

Was there a field once fruitful, or a town

Once populous and rich? The horrid change

To want and desolation there declar'd,

The curs'd Amphistreus govern'd. As the spear

Of Tyrian Cadmus riveted to earth

The pois'nous dragon, whose infectious breath

Had blasted half Boeotia; so the chief

Of Lacedaemon trampling on the neck

Of fall'n Amphistreus fixes to the rock

The gasping tyrant, and his broken lance

Leaves in the panting corse. Meanwhile thy wound

Incessant flows, great hero, and augments

The hopes of Persia. Thou unyielding still

Sustain'st the contest, while unnumber'd darts

Are shiver'd on thy buckler, and thy feet

With glitt'ring points bestrew; the Cholchian sword,

And Persian dagger leave their shatter'd hilts;

Bent is the Caspian scymetar; in vain

The Sacian wheels his falchion, and their mace

The strong Chaldaeans and Assyrians raise:

Thou stand'st unshaken, like a Thracian hill,

Like Rhodopé, or Haemus; where in vain

The thund'rer plants his livid bolt, in vain

The glancing lightning cleaves th' incrusted snow,

And Winter beating with eternal war

Shakes from his dreery wings discordant storms,

Chill sleet, and clatt'ring hail. But now advanc'd

Abrocomes, and aim'd his deadly spear

Against the forehead of Laconia's chief,

Not unperceiv'd; the Spartan's active hand

His sword opposing upward rears the blade

Against the threatning javelin; o'er his crest

Its fury wastes in air, while swift descends

The pond'rous falchion on the Persian's knee:

At once the bone is sever'd; prone he falls;

Crush'd on the ground beneath ten thousand feet

The gallant warriour breaths the last remains

Of tortur'd life. The Spartan thus maintain'd

Th' unequal combat with his single sword.

But Agis calls Diéneces, alarms

Demophilus, Megistias; they from heaps

Of Allarodian and Sasperian slain

Haste to their leader, and before him raise

The brazen bulwark of their massy shields.

The foremost line of Asia stands and bleeds;

The rest recoil: but Hyperanthes strides

From rank to rank throughout his various host,

Their dying hopes rekindles, in the brave

Excites new valour, and the freezing heart

Of Fear revives. Astaspes first obey'd

The hero's voice, a fierce Chaldaean lord

Vain of his birth from antient Belus drawn,

Proud of his wealthy stores, and stately domes;

But now more proud by conquest, since his might

Had foil'd the strong Diomedon. He seeks

The front of battle. His victorious mace

Against the brave Diéneces he bends;

The weighty blow bore down th' opposing shield,

And crush'd the Spartan's shoulder: idle hangs

The buckler now, and loads th' inactive arm

Depriv'd of all its functions. Agis bares

His vengeful blade, and severs from the foe

His hand exalted for a second stroke.

The dying fingers with convulsive grasp

The falling mace infold. A Sacian chief

Springs on the victor. Iäxartes' banks

To this brave savage gave his name and birth.

His looks erect, and fierce deportment spoke

A bold and gallant spirit, but untam'd,

With dreery wilds familiar, and a race

Of rude Barbarians horrid as their clime.

The hostile spear, against his forehead aim'd,

Glanc'd upward, and o'erturn'd his iron cone:

The blow renew'd his bursting chest divides.

Th' undaunted Sacian writhes along the lance,

Which griding passes through his breast and back,

A barbed arrow from his quiver draws,

Deep in the streaming pap of Agis hides

The deadly steel, then grimly smiles and dies.

From him Fate hastens to a nobler prey;

For lo! the brave Diéneces presents

His breast obnoxious to a thousand darts.

The shield deserts his unsustaining arm,

And slides to earth. A grove of javelins rose

On his broad bosom. Still for ev'ry wound

He hurl'd a Persian to th'infernal gloom;

But life at length forfook his riven heart,

And o'er the rock the gasping hero stretch'd

His dying limbs in gore. Who now can stand

The torrent of Barbarians? Agis bleeds,

His spear is irrecoverably plung'd

In Iäxartes' body. Low reclines

Diéneces in gore. The Spartan chief

Himself o'erlabour'd, of his lance disarm'd

The rage of Death can exercise no more.

One last and glorious effort age performs.

Demophilus, Megistias join their might,

And stem the floods of conquest; while the spear

Of slain Diéneces to Sparta's king

The fainting Agis bore. The blazing steel

In that dire hand again for battle rear'd

Blasts all the Persian valour. Back in heaps

They roll confounded, by their leader's voice

In vain exhorted longer to endure

The ceaseless waste of that unconquer'd arm.

So, when the giants from Olympus chas'd

Th' inferiour Gods, themselves in terrour shun'd

Th' incessant streams of lightning, when the hand

Of heav'n's great father with eternal might

Sustain'd the direful conflict. O'er the field

Awhile Bellona stills the rage of war;

When Thespia's leader, and Megistias drop

At either side of Lacedaemon's king.

Beneath the weight of years and labour bend

The hoary warriours. Not a groan molests

Their parting spirits, but in death's calm night,

All-silent, bows each venerable head:

Like aged oaks, whose deep-descending roots

Had pierc'd resistless through the mountain's side,

And there for three long centuries had brav'd

Each angry gust of Eurus, and the North;

Till, sapless now by Time's despoiling hand,

Without a blast their mossy trunks recline

Before their parent hill. By Sparta's chief

None now remains but Agis, who implores

The last kind office from his godlike friend,

The Sacian's arrow from his pap to draw.

This done, life issues with the sanguine tide.

Thy comely features, Agis, now are pale;

Cold are thy graceful limbs, and dim thy eyes,

Which now no more with placid beams reveal

The native virtues of thy gentle breast.

The noble corse Leonidas surveys.

Fate yields him one short interval of peace

To know how lovely are the patriot's wounds,

And see those honours grace the man, he lov'd.

But Hyperanthes with his single spear

Forth from the trembling ranks of Asia tow'rs

His country's glory to redeem, or fall.

The Spartan worn by toil his languid arm

Once more uplifting waits the dauntless prince.

The heroes now stood adverse. Each a while

Restrain'd his valour, and his godlike foe

Admiring view'd. Such majesty and strength

To fierce Pelides all incircled round

With Trojan dead; and such to Priam's son

By struggling virtue, and by manly shame

From flight recall'd, great Homer's fancy gave.

O thou exalted o'er the laurel'd train

High, as the sweet Calliope is thron'd

Above each vigin of the tuneful hill;

Now let one beam of thy celestial light

Dart through my lab'ring mind; lest Freedom mourn

Her chosen son dishonour'd in these strains!

NOW Hyperanthes, and Laconia's king

With brandish'd points, and targets high uprear'd

Commence the fatal combat, which must close

The long-continu'd horrours of the day.

Fix'd with amaze and fear, the Asian files

Unmov'd and silent on their bucklers pause.

Thus o'er th' expanse of India's wilds contend

The elephant, and horn'd rhinoceros;

Earth groans beneath them, as with wrath untam'd

Each hideous bulk in dire encounter meets:

With distant terrour gaze the savage throng.

Prolong'd by varied art, the dubious fight

The great event suspended. On the foe

His well-aim'd spear at last the Spartan drove,

And pierc'd the shield. Inexorable fate

That moment hover'd o'er the eastern prince,

When with unmatch'd celerity aside

He swung his buckler; underneath his arm,

Unstain'd with blood the hostile javelin pass'd:

Meantime, with joy, and ardent hopes elate

Of fame and conquest, sudden he impell'd

His rapid lance against the Spartan's throat;

But he with wary skill his target rais'd,

And o'er his shoulder turn'd the glancing steel;

For one last effort then his scatter'd strength

Recall'd, and wheeling with resistless force

His massy buckler dash'd the brazen verge

Against the Persian's forehead: down he sunk

Without a groan expiring, as o'erwhelm'd

Beneath a marble fragment from its seat

Heav'd by a whirlwind sweeping o'er the ridge

Of some aspiring mansion. Gen'rous prince!

What could his valour more? His single might

He match'd with great Leonidas, and fell

Before his native bands. The Spartan chief

Now stands alone. In heaps his slaughter'd friends

All stretch'd around him lie. The distant foes

Show'r on his head innumerable darts.

From various sluices gush the vital floods,

And stain his fainting limbs. Nor yet with pain

His brow is clouded, but those beauteous wounds,

The sacred pledges of his own renown,

And Sparta's safety, with serenest joy

His closing eye contemplates. Fame can twine

No brighter laurels round his glorious head,

His virtue more to labour Fate forbids,

And lays him now in honourable rest

To seal his country's liberty in death.

End of the Ninth and Last Book.

ERRATA.

B.

2.

l.

130.

for sult'ry r. sultry.

160.

for breasts r. hearts.

3.

311.

332. 407. for poynard 4. poniard.

553.

for, put.

606.

after Greece put:

611.

dele the full point

4.

177.

for Pencestes r. Peucestes.

375.

after loosen dele the comma.

5.

393.

for from r. with.

7.

170.

for, put.

8.

52.

for trembling r. tumbling.

252.

for enoble r. ennoble.

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Title statement

Leonidas: a poem.

Glover, Richard, 1712-1785.

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http://ota.ox.ac.uk/id/4817

ID [isbn10]

1106018168

ID [isbn13]

9781106018168

ID [TCP]

K078562.000

ID [BIBNO]

CW3312432883

ID [ECLL]

0436500300

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Source

— Leonidas: a poem., Glover, Richard, 1712-1785.. [2],xvi,335,[1]p. ; 4⁰. London :: printed for R. Dodsley,. 1737.. [Preface signed: R. Glover.] [Large and fine paper issue.] [Reproduction of original from the British Library.] [Foxon, G191] [English Short Title Catalog, ESTCT97589.] [Electronic data. Farmington Hills, Mich. : Thomson Gale, 2003. Page image (PNG). Digitized image of the microfilm version produced in Woodbridge, CT by Research Publications, 1982-2002 (later known as Primary Source Microfilm, an imprint of the Gale Group).]

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