A solemn sadness o'er the camp. A hedge
Of trembling spears on either hand is form'd.
Tears underneath his iron-pointed cone
The Sacian drops. The Caspian savage feels
His heart transpierc'd, and wonders at the pain.
In Xerxes' presence are the bodies plac'd,
Nor he forbids. His agitated breast

All night had weigh'd against his future hopes
His present losses, his defeated ranks,
By myriads thinn'd, their multitude abash'd,
His fleet thrice worsted, torn by storms, reduc'd
To half its number. When he slept, in dreams
He saw the haggard dead, which floated round
Th' adjoining strands. Disasters new their ghosts
In sullen frowns, in shrill upbraidings bode.
Thus, ere the gory bier approach'd his eyes,
He in dejection had already lost

His kingly pride, the parent of disdain,
And cold indifference to human woes.
Not ev'n beside his sister's nobler corse
Her humble lover could awake his scorn.
The captives told their piercing tale. He heard;
He felt awhile compassion. But ere long
Those traces vanish'd from the tyrant's breast.
His former gloom redoubles. For himself
His anxious bosom heaves, oppress'd by fear
Lest he with all his splendour should be cast
A prey to Fortune. Thoughtful near the throne
Laconia's exile waits, to whom the king.

"O Demaratus, what will Fate ordain?
Lo! Fortune turns against me. What shall check
Her farther malice, when her daring stride
Invades my house with ravage, and profanes
The blood of great Darius. I have sent
From my unguarded side the chosen band,
My bravest chiefs, to pass the desert hill;
Have to the conduct of a Malian spy

My hopes entrusted. May not there the Greeks,
In opposition more tremendous still,
More ruinous than yester Sun beheld,
Maintain their post invincible, renew
Their stony thunder in augmented rage,
And send whole quarries down the craggy steeps
Again to crush my army? Oh! unfold
Thy secret thoughts, nor hide the harshest truth.
Say, what remains to hope ?" The exile here.

Too well, O monarch, do thy fears presage,
What may befall thy army. If the Greeks,
Arrang'd within Thermopyla, a pass
Accessible and practis'd, could repel
With such destruction their unnumber'd foes;
What scenes of havoc may untrodden paths,
Confin'd among the craggy hills, afford?"

Lost in despair, the monarch silent sat. Not less unmann'd than Xerxes, from his place Uprose Argestes; but concealing fear, These artful words deliver'd. "If the king Propitious wills to spare his faithful bands, Nor spread at large the terrours of his pow'r; More gentle means of conquest than by arms, Nor less secure, may artifice supply. Resown'd Darius, thy immortal sire, Bright 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 prince subdu'd The Babylonian ramparts. Who shall count The thrones and states, by stratagem o'erturn'd? But if Corruption join her pow'rful aid,

Not one can stand. What race of men possess

That probity, that wisdom, which the veil
Of craft shall never blind, nor proffer'd wealth,
Nor splendid pow'r seduce? O Xerxes, born
To more than mortal greatness, canst thou find
Through thy unbounded sway no dazzling gift,
Which may allure Leonidas? Dispel

The cloud of sadness from those sacred eyes.
Great monarch, proffer to Laconia's chief,
What may thy own magnificence declare,
And win his friendship. O'er his native Greece
Invest him sov'reign. Thus procure his sword
For thy succeeding conquests." Xerxes here,
As from a trance awak'ning, swift replies.

"Wise are thy dictates. Fly to Sparta's chief,
Argestes, fall before him. Bid him join
My arms, and reign o'er ev'ry Grecian state."
He scarce had finish'd, when in haste approach'd
Artuchus. Startled at the ghastly stage

Of death, that guardian of the Persian fair
Thus in a groan. "Thou deity maligu,

O Arimanius, what a bitter draught
For my sad lips thy cruelty hath mix'd!
Is this the flow'r of women, to my charge
So lately giv'n? Oh! princess, I have rang'd
The whole Sperchean valley, woods, and caves,
In quest of thee, found here a lifeless corse.
Astonishment and horrour lock my tongue.'

Pride now, reviving in the monarch's breast,
Dispell'd his black despondency awhile,
With gall more black effacing from his heart
Each merciful impression. Stern he spake.

"Remove her, satrap, to the female train.
Let them the due solemnities perform.
But never she, by Mithra's light I swear,
Shall sleep in Susa with her kindred dust;
Who by ignoble passions hath debas'd

The blood of Xerxes. Greece beheld her shame;
Let Greece behold her tomb. The low-born slave
Who dar'd to Xerxes' sister lift his hopes,
On some bare crag expose." The Spartan here.

My royal patron, let me speak—and die,
If such thy will. This cold, disfigur'd clay
Was late thy soldier, gallantly who fought,
Who nobly perish'd, long the dearest friend
Of Hyperanthes, hazarding his life
Now in thy cause. O'er Persians thou dost reign;
None more, than Persians, venerate the brave.'

"Well hath he spoke," Atruchus firm subjoins "But if the king his rigour will inflict

On this dead warrior-Heav'n o'erlook the deed,
Nor on our heads accumulate fresh woes!
The shatter'd fleet, th' intimidated camp,
The band select, through Œta's dang'rous wilds
At this dread crisis struggling, must obtain
Support from Heav'n, or Asia's glory falls."
Fell pride, recoiling at these awful words
In Xerxes' frozen bosom, yields to fear,
Resuming there the sway. He grants the corse
To Demaratus. Forth Artuchus moves
Behind the bier, uplifted by his train.

Argestes, parted from his master's side,
Ascends a car; and, speeding o'er the beach,
Sees Artemisia. She the ashes pale

Of slaughter'd Carians, on the pyre consum'd,
Was then collecting for the fun'ral vase
In exclamation thus. "My subjects, lost
On Earth, descend to happier climes below-
The fawning, dastard counsellors, who left
Your worth deserted in the hour of need,
May kites disfigure, may the wolf devour-

Shade of my husband, thou salute in smiles
These gallant warriors, faithful once to thee,
Nor less to me. They tidings will report
Of Artemisia to revive thy love-
May wretches like Argestes never clasp
Their wives, their offspring! Never greet their homes!
May their unbury'd limbs dismiss their ghosts
To wail for ever on the banks of Styx!"

Then, turning tow'rd her son. "Come, vir-
tuous boy,

Let us transport these relics of our friends
To yon tall bark, in pendent sable clad.
They, if her keel be destin'd to return,
Shall in paternal monuments repose.
Let us embark. Till Xerxes shuts his ear
To false Argestes; in her vessel hid,
Shall Artemisia's gratitude lament
Her bounteous sov'reign's fate. Leander, mark.
The Doric virtues are not eastern plants.
Them foster still within thy gen'rous breast,
But keep in covert from the blaze of courts;
Where flatt'ry's guile in oily words profuse,
In action tardy, o'er th' ingenuous tongue,
The arm of valour, and the faithful heart,
Will ever triumph. Yet my soul enjoys
Her own presage, that Destiny reserves
An hour for my revenge." Concluding here,
She gains the fleet. Argestes sweeps along
On rapid wheels from Artemisia's view,
Like Night, protectress foul of heinous deeds,
With treason, rape, and murder at her heel,
Before the eye of Morn retreating swift

To hide her loathsome visage. Soon he reach'd
Thermopyla; descending from his car,
Was led by Dithyrambus to the tent
Of Sparta's ruler. Since the fatal news
By Mycon late deliver'd, he apart
With Polydorus had consulted long
On high attempts; and, now sequester'd, sat
To ruminate on vengeance. At his feet
Prone fell the satrap, and began. "The will
Of Xerxes bends me prostrate to the earth
Before thy presence. Great and matchless chief,
Thus says the lord of Asia. 'Join my arms;
Thy recompense is Greece. Her fruitful plains,
Her gen'rous steeds, her flocks, her num'rous towns,
Her sons I render to thy sov'reign hand.'
And, O illustrious warrior, 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:
Think on the glories of unrivall'd sway.
Look on th' Ionic, on th' Æolian Greeks.
From them their phantom liberty is flown;
While in each province, rais'd by Xerxes' pow'r,
Some favour'd chief presides; exalted state,
Ne'er giv'n by envions freedom. On his head
He bears the gorgeous diadem; he sees
His equals once in adoration stoop
Beneath his footstool. What superior beams
Will from thy temples blaze, when gen'ral Greece,
In noblest states abounding, calls thee lord,
Thee only worthy. How will each rejoice
Around thy throne, and hail th' auspicious day,
When thou, distinguish'd by the Persian king,
Didst in thy sway consenting nations bless,
Didst calm the fury of unsparing war,
Which else had delug'd all with blood and flames."
Leonidas replies not, but commands

The Thespian youth, still watchful near the tent,

To summon all the Grecians. He obeys.
The king uprises from his seat, and bids
The Persian follow. He, amaz'd, attends,
Surrounded soon by each assembling band;
When thus at length the godlike Spartan spake.
"Here, Persian, tell thy embassy. Repeat,
That to obtain my friendship Asia's prince
To me hath proffer'd sov'reignty o'er Greece.
Then view these bands, whose valour shall preserve
That Greece unconquer'd, which your king bestows;
Shall strew your bodies on her crimson'd plains:
The indignation painted on their looks,

Their gen'rous scorn, may answer for their chief.
Yet from Leonidas, thou wretch, inur'd

To vassalage and baseness, hear. The pomp,
The arts of pleasure in despotic courts
I spurn abhorrent. In a spotless heart
I look for pleasure. I from righteous deeds
Derive my splendour. No adoring crowd,
No purpled slaves, no mercenary spears
My state embarrass. I in Sparta rule
By laws, my rulers, with a guard unknown
To Xerxes,-public confidence and love.
No pale suspicion of th' empoison'd bowl,
Th' assassin's poniard, or provok'd revolt
Chase from my decent couch the peace, deny'd
To his resplendent canopy. Thy king,
Who hath profan'd by proffer'd bribes my ear,
Dares not to meet my arm. Thee, trembling slave,
Whose embassy was treason, I despise,
And therefore spare." Diomedon subjoins.

"Our marble temples these barbarians waste, A crime less impious than a bare attempt Of sacrilege on virtue. Grant my suit, Thou living temple, where the goddess dwells. To me consign the caitiff. Soon the winds Shall parch his limbs on Eta's tallest pine." Amidst his fury suddenly return'd The speed of Alpheus. All, suspended, fix'd On him their eyes impatient. He began. I am return'd a messenger of ill. Close to the passage, op'ning into Greece, That post committed to the Phocian guard, O'erhangs a bushy cliff. A station there Behind the shrubs by dead of night I took, Though not in darkness. Purple was the face Of Heav'n. Beneath my feet the valleys glow'd. A range immense of wood-invested hills, The boundaries of Greece, were clad in flames; An act of froward chance, or crafty foes To cast dismay. The crackling pines I heard; Their branches sparkled, and the thickets blaz'd, In hillocks embers rose. Embody'd fire, As from unnumber'd furnaces, I saw

Mount high, through vacant trunks of headless

oaks,

Broad-bas'd, and dry with age. Barbarian helms,
Shields, javelins, sabres, gleaming from below,
Full soon discover'd to my tortur'd sight
The straits in Persia's pow'r. The Phocian chief,
Whate'er the cause, relinquishing his post,
Was to a neighb'ring eminence remov'd;
There, by the foe neglected, or contemn'd,
Remain'd in arms, and neither fled, nor fought.
I stay'd for day-spring. Then the Persians mov'd.
To morrow's sun will see their numbers here."
He said no more. Unutterable fear
In horrid silence wraps the list'ning crowd,
Aghast, confounded. Silent are the chiefs,
Who feel no terrour; yet in wonder fix'd,

Thick-wedg'd, enclose Leonidas around,
Who thus in calmest elocution spake.

"I now behold the oracle fulfill'd.
Then art thou near, thou glorious, sacred hour,
Which shalt my country's liberty secure.
Thrice hail! thou solemn period. Thee the tongues
Of virtue, fame, and freedom shall proclaim,
Shall celebrate in ages yet unborn.
Thou godlike offspring of a godlike sire,
To him my kindest greetings, Medon, bear.
Farewell, Megistias, holy friend and brave.
Thou too, experienc'd, venerable chief,
Demophilus, farewell. Farewell to thee,
Invincible Diomedon, to thee,

Unequall'd Dithyrambus, and to all,

Ye other dauntless warriors, who may claim
Praise from my lips, and friendship from my heart.
You, after all the wonders which your swords
Have here accomplish'd, will enrich your names
By fresh renown. Your valour must complete
What ours begins. Here first th' astonish'd foe
On dying Spartans shall with terrour gaze,
And tremble, while he conquers. Then, by Fate
Led from his dreadful victory to meet
United Greece in phalanx o'er the plain,
By your avenging spears himself shall fall."

Forth from the assembly strides Platæa's chief.
"By the twelve gods, enthron'd in Heav'n supreme;
By my fair name, unsully'd yet, I swear,
Thine eye, Leonidas, shall ne'er behold
Diomedon forsake thee. First let strength
Desert my limbs, and fortitude my heart.
Did I not face the Marathonian war?
Have I not seen Thermopyla? What more
Can fame bestow, which I should wait to share?
Where can I, living, purchase brighter praise
Than dying here? What more illustrious tomb
Can I obtain than, bury'd in the heaps
Of Persians, fall'n my victims, on this rock
To lie distinguish'd by a thousand wounds?"
He ended; when Demophilus.
"O king
Of Lacedæmon, 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 falt'ring steps I tread
The prone descent of years. My country claim'd
My youth, my ripeness. Feeble age but yields
An empty name of service. What remains
For me, unequal to the winged speed

Thy gen'rous thoughts. Decided is thy choice
Come then, attendants on a godlike shade,
When to th' Elysian ancestry of Greece
Descends her great protector, we will show
To Harmatides an illustrious son,

And no unworthy brother. We will link
Our shields together. We will press the ground,
Still undivided in the arms of death.

So if th' attentive traveller we draw

To our cold relics, wond'ring, shall he trace
The diff'rent scene, then pregnant with applause,
'O wise old man,' exclaim, 'the hour of fate
Well didst thou choose; and, O unequall'd youth,
Who for thy country didst thy bloom devote,
May'st thou remain for ever dear to fame!
May time rejoice to name thee! O'er thy urn
May everlasting peace her pinion spread'."

This said, the hero with his lifted shield
His face o'ershades; he drops a secret tear:
Not this a tear of anguish, but deriv'd
From fond affection, grown mature with time,
Awak'd a manly tenderness alone,
Unmix'd with pity, or with vain regret.

A stream of duty, gratitude, and love,
Flow'd from the heart of Harmatides' son,
Addressing straight Leonidas, whose looks
Declar'd unspeakable applause. "O king
Of Lacedæmon, now distribute praise
From thy accustom'd justice, small to me,
To him a portion large. His guardian care,
His kind instruction, his example train'd
My infancy, my youth. From him I learn'd
To live, unspotted. Could I less, than learn
From him to die with honour." Medon hears.
Shook by a whirlwind of contending thoughts
Strong heaves his manly bosom, under awe
Of wise Melissa, torn by friendship, fir'd
By such example high. In dubious state
So rolls a vessel, when th' inflated waves
Her planks assail, and winds her canvass rend
The rudder labours, and requires a hand
Of firm, delib'rate skill. The gen'rous king
Perceives the hero's struggle, and prepares
To interpose relief; when instant came
Dieneces before them. Short he spake.
"Barbarian myriads through the secret pass
Have enter'd Greece. Leonidas, by morn
Expect them here. My slender force I spar'd
There to have died was useless. We return

What eligible wish can wisdom form,
But to die well? Demophilus shall close
With thee, O hero, on this glorious Earth
His eve of life." The youth of Thespia next
Address'd Leonidas. O first of Greeks,
Me too think worthy to attend thy fame
With this most dear, this 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 triumph mark
My youthful limbs among the gory heaps,
Perhaps remembrance may unnerve his arm
In future fields of contest with a race,
To whom the flow'r, the blooming joys of life,
Are less alluring than a noble death."

To him his second parent. "Wilt thou bleed,
My Dithyrambus? But I here withhold
All counsel from thee, who art wise as brave.
I know thy magnanimity. I read

Will render more illustrious to ourselves,
And to the foe more terrible our fall."

Megistias last accosts Laconia's king.
"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 Lacedæmon I a stranger came,

There found protection. There to honours rais'd,

I have not yet the benefit repaid.
That now the gen'rous Spartans may behold
In me their large beneficence not vain,
Here to their cause I consecrate my breath."
"Not so, Megistias," interpos'd the king.
Thon and thy son retire." Again the seer.
"Forbid it, thou eternally ador'd,

O Jove, confirm my persevering soul !
Nor let me these auspicious moments lose,
When to my bounteous patrons I may show,
That I deserv'd their favour. Thou, my child,

Dear Menalippus, heed the king's command,
And my paternal tenderness revere.

Thou from these ranks withdraw thee, to my use
Thy arms surrend'ring. Fortune will supply
New proofs of 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 the last embraces. Either weeps,
The hoary parent, and the blooming son.

But from his temples the pontific wreath
Megistias now unloosens. He resigns

His hallow'd vestments; while the youth in tears
The helmet o'er his parent's snowy locks,
O'er his broad chest adjusts the radiant mail.
Dieneces was nigh. Oppress'd by shame,
His downcast visage Menalippus hid [blush.
From him, who cheerful thus. "Thou needst not
Thou hear'st thy father and the king command,
What I suggested, thy departure hence.
Train'd by my care, a soldier thou return'st.
Go, practice my instructions. Oft in fields
Of future conflict may thy prowess call

Me to remembrance. Spare thy words. Farewell."
While such contempt of life, such fervid zeal
To die with glory animate the Greeks,
Far diff'rent thoughts possess Argestes' soul.
Amaze and mingled terrour chill his blood.
Cold drops, distill'd from ev'ry pore, bedew
His shiv'ring flesh. His bosom pants. His knees
Yield to their burden. Ghastly pale his checks,
Pale are his lips and trembling. Such the minds
Of slaves corrupt; on them the beauteous face
Of virtue turns to horrour. But these words
From Lacedæmon's chief the wretch relieve.
"Return to Xerxes. Tell him, on this rock
The Grecians, faithful to their trust, await
His chosen myriads Tell him, thou hast seen,
How far the lust of empire is below
A freeborn spirit; that my death, which seals
My country's safety, is indeed a boon
His folly gives, a precious boon, which Greece
Will by perdition to his throne repay."

He said. The Persian hastens through the pass.
Once more the stern Diomedon arose.
Wrath overcast his forehead while he spake.
"Yet more must stay and bleed.

Thebes

Their Lissing serpents. All the Greeks assent
In clamours, echoing through the concave rock.
Forth Anaxander in th' assembly stood,
Which he address'd with indignation feign'd.

"If yet your clamours, Grecians, are allay'd, Lo! I appear before you to demand,

Why these my brave companions, who alone
Among the Thebans through dissuading crowds
Their passage forc'd to join your camp, should bear
The name of traitors? By an exil'd wretch
We are traduc'd, by Demaratus, driv'n
From Spartan confines, who hath meanly sought
Barbarian courts for shelter. Hath he drawn
Such virtues thence, that Sparta, who before
Held him unworthy of his native sway,
Should trust him now, and doubt auxiliar friends?
Injurious men! We scorn the thoughts of flight.
Let Asia bring her numbers; unconstrain'd,
We will confront them, and for Greece expire."
Thus in the garb of virtue he adorn'd
Necessity. Laconia's king 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 in native beams,
Some sage, who walk'd with Nature through her
By Wisdom led, discern'd the various orb, [works,
Dark in itself, in foreign splendours clad.

Leonidas concludes. "Ye Spartans, hear;
Hear you, O Grecians, in our lot by choice
Partakers, destin'd to enrol your names
In time's eternal record, and enhance
Your country's lustre: lo! the noontide blaze
Inflames the broad horizon. Each retire;
Each in his tent invoke the pow'r of sleep
To brace his vigour, to enlarge his strength
For long endurance. When the Sun descends,
Let each appear in arms. You, brave allies
Of Corinth, Phlius, and Mycena's tow'rs,
Arcadians, Locrians, must not yet depart.
While we repose, embattled wait. Retreat,
When we our tents abandon. I resign
To great Oileus' son supreme command,
Take my embraces, Æschylus. The fleet
Expects thee. To Themistocles report,
What thou hast seen and heard."—"O thrice fare

well!"

Th' Athenian answer'd. "To yourselves, my friends.
Your virtues immortality secure,
Your bright examples victory to Greece."

Retaining these injunctions, all dispers'd;
While in his tent Leonidas remain'd

Apart with Agis, whom he thus bespake.
"Yet in our fall the pond'rous hand of Greece
Shall Asia feel. This Persian's welcome tale
Of us, inextricably doom'd her prey,
As by the force of sorcery will wrap
Security around her, will suppress
All sense, all thought of danger. Brother, know,
That soon as Cynthia from the vault of Heav'n
Withdraws her shining lamp, through Asia's host
Shall massacre and desolation rage.

Yet not to base associates will I trust
My vast design. Their perfidy might warn
The unsuspecting foe, our fairest fruits
Of glory thus be wither'd. Ere we move,
While on the solemn sacrifice intent,
As Lacedæmon's ancient laws ordain,
Our prayers we offer to the tuneful Nine,
Thou whisper through the willing ranks of Thebes
Slow and in silence to disperse and fly."

Now left by Agis, on his couch reclin'd, The Spartan king thus meditates alone.

"My fate is now impending. O my soul,
What more auspicious period couldst thou choose
For death than now, when, beating high in 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 displays
Still lovely, still unfading, still serene
To youth, to age, to death: whatever be
Those other climes of happiness unchang'd,
Which Heav'n in dark futurity conceals,
Still here, O Virtue, thou art all our good.
Oh! what a black, unspeakable reverse
Must the unrighteous, must the tyrant prove?
What in the struggle of departing day,
When life's last glimpse, extinguishing, presents
Unknown, inextricable gloom? But how
Can I explain the terrours of a breast,
Where guilt resides? Leonidas, forego
The horrible conception, and again
Within thy own felicity retire;

Bow grateful down to him, who form'd thy mind
Of crimes unfruitful never to admit
The black impression of a guilty thought.
Else could I fearless by delib'rate choice
Relinquish life? This calm from minds deprav'd
Is ever absent. Oft in them the force
Of some prevailing passion for a time
Suppresses fear. Precipitate they lose
The sense of danger; when dominion, wealth,
Or purple pomp enchant the dazzled sight,
Pursuing still the joys of life alone.

"But he, who calmly seeks a certain death,
When duty only, and the general good
Direct his courage, must a soul possess,
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."

At length the hero's meditations close.
The swelling transport of his heart subsides
In soft oblivion; and the silken plumes
Of sleep envelop his extended limbs.

LEONIDAS. BOOK XI.

THE ARGUMENT.

Leonidas, rising before sunset, dismisses the forces under the command of Medon; but observing a reluctance in him to depart, reminds him of his duty, and gives him an affectionate farewell. He then relates to his own select band a dream, which is interpreted by Megistias, arms himself, and marches in procession with his whole troop to an altar, newly raised on a neighbouring meadow; there offers a sacrifice to the Muses: he invokes the assistance of those goddesses; he animates his companions; then, placing himself at their head, leads them against the enemy in the dead of the night.

THE day was closing. Agis left his tent.
He sought his godlike brother. Him he found
Stretch'd o'er his tranquil couch. His looks retain'd
The cheerful tincture of his waking thoughts
To gladden sleep. So smile soft evening skies,
Yet streak'd with ruddy light, when summer's suns
Have veil'd their beaming foreheads. Transport fill'd
The eye of Agis. Friendship swell'd his heart.
His yielding knee in veneration bent.

The hero's hand he kiss'd, then fervent thus.
"O excellence ineffable, receive
This secret homage; and may gentle sleep
Yet longer seal thine eyelids, that, unblam'd,
I may fall down before thee." He concludes
In adoration of his friend divine,
Whose brow the shades of slumber now forsake.
So, when the rising Sun resumes his state,
Some white-rob'd magus on Euphrates side,
Or Indian seer on Ganges, prostrate falls
Before th' emerging glory, to salute
That radiant emblem of th' immortal mind.

Uprise both heroes. From their tents in arms
Appear the bands elect. The other Greeks
Are filing homeward. Only Medon stops.
Melissa's dictates he forgets awhile.
All inattentive to the warning voice
Of Melibæus, earnest he surveys
Leonidas. Such constancy of zeal

In good Oïleus' offspring brings the sire
To full remembrance in that solemn hour,
And draws these cordial accents from the king.

Approach me, Locrian. In thy look I trace
Consummate faith and love. But, vers'd in arms,
Against thy gen'ral's orders wouldst thou stay?
Go, prove to kind Oileus, that my heart

Of him was mindful, when the gates of death
I barr'd against his son. Yon gallant Greeks,
To thy commanding care from mine transferr'd,
Remove from certain slaughter. Last repair
To Lacedæmon. Thither lead thy sire.
Say to her senate, to her people tell,
Here didst thou leave their countrymen and king
On death resolv'd, obedient to the laws."

The Locrian chief, restraining tears, replies.
"My sire, left slumb'ring in the island-fane,
Awoke no more."-" Then joyful I shall meet
Him soon," the king made answer. "Let thy worth
Supply thy father's. Virtue bids me die,
Thee live. Farewell." Now Medon's grief, o'eraw'd
By wisdom, leaves his long-suspended mind
To firm decision. He departs, prepar'd
For all the duties of a man, by deeds
To prove himself the friend of Sparta's king,
Melissa's brother, and Oïleus' son.

The gen'rous victims of the public weal, Assembled now, Leonidas salutes, His pregnant soul disburd'ning. "O thrice hail! Surround me, Grecians; to my words attend. This evening's sleep no longer press'd my brows, Than o'er my head the empyreal form Of heav'n-enthron'd Alcides was 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. A mountain's summit, clear'd from mist, or cloud, We reach'd in silence. Suddenly the howl Of wolves and dogs, the vulture's piercing shriek, The yell of ev'ry beast and bird of prey Discordant grated on my ear. I turn'd.