happiness and fertility. Present distress, the effect of slavery. Ithaca. Ulysses and Penelope. Argos and Mycenæ. Agamemnon. Macronisi. Lemnos. Vul. can and Venus. Delos. Apollo and Diana. Troy.

Sestos. Leander and Hero. Delphos. Temple of Apollo. Parnassus. The Muses. The subject resumed. Sparkling of the sea. Prodigious tempest, accompanied with rain, hail, and meteors. Darkness, lightning, and thunder. Approach of day. Discovery of land. The ship, in great danger, passes the island of St. George. Turns her broadside to the shore. Her bowsprit, foremast, and main topmast carried away. She strikes a rock. Splits asunder. Fate of the

crew.

The scene stretches from that part of the Archipelago which lies ten miles to the northward of Falconera, to Cape Colonna in Attica.The time is about seven hours, being from one till eight in the morning.

WHEN in a barbarous age with blood defiled,
The human savage roam'd the gloomy wild;
When sullen Ignorance her flag display'd,
And Rapine and Revenge her voice obey'd;
Sent from the shores of light, the Muses came,
The dark and solitary race to tame;
"Twas theirs the lawless passions to control,
And melt in tender sympathy the soul:
The heart from vice and error to reclaim,

And breathe in human breasts celestial flame.
The kindling spirit caught th' empyreal ray,
And glow'd congenial with the swelling lay.
Roused from the chaos of primeval night,
At once fair Truth and Reason sprung to light.
When great Meonides, in rapid song,
The thundering tide of battle rolls along.
Each ravish'd bosom feels the high alarms,
And all the burning pulses beat to arms.
From earth upborne, on Pegasean wings,
Far through the boundless realms of thought he
springs;

While distant poets, trembling as they view
His sunward flight, the dazzling track pursue.
But when his strings, with mournful magic, tell
What dire distress Laertes' son befell,
The strains, meandering through the maze of wo,
Bid sacred sympathy the heart o'erflow.

Thus, in old time, the Muses' heavenly breath
With vital force dissolved the chains of death;
Each bard in Epic lays began to sing,

Taught by the master of the vocal string.-
'Tis mine, alas! through dangerous scenes to stray,
Far from the light of his unerring ray!
While, all unused the wayward path to tread,
Darkling I wander with prophetic dread.
To me in vain the bold Meonian lyre
Awakes the numbers, fraught with living fire!
Full oft, indeed, that mournful harp of yore
Wept the sad wanderer lost upon the shore;
But o'er that scene th' impatient numbers ran,
Subservient only to a nobler plan.

"Tis mine, th' unravell'd prospect to display,
And chain th' events in regular array.
Though hard the task, to sing in varied strains,
While all unchanged the tragic theme remains!
Thrice happy! might the secret powers of art
Unlock the latent windings of the heart,
Might the sad numbers draw Compassion's tear
For kindred miseries, oft beheld too near;
For kindred wretches, oft in ruin cast

On Albion's strand beneath the wintry blast;

For all the pangs, the complicated wo,
Her bravest sons, her faithful sailors know!
So pity, gushing o'er each British breast,
Might sympathize with Briton's sons distrest:
For this, my theme through mazes I pursue,
Which nor Mæonides nor Maro knew!

A while the mast in ruins dragg'd behind, Balanced th' impression of the helm and wind: The wounded serpent, agonized with pain, Thus trails his mangled volume on the plain. But now the wreck dissever'd from the rear, The long reluctant prow began to veer; And while around before the wind it falls, "Square all the yards!"* th' attentive master calls "You timoneers, her motion still attend! For on your steerage all our lives depend. So, steady!† meet her, watch the blast behind, And steer her right before the seas and wind!" "Starboard, again!" the watchful pilot cries; "Starboard!" the obedient timoneer replies. Then to the left the ruling helm returns ; The wheelt revolves; the ringing axle burns! The ship, no longer foundering by the lee, Bears on her side th' invasions of the sea: All lonely, o'er the desert waste she flies, Scourged on by surges, storm, and bursting skies As when the masters of the lance assail, In Hyperborean seas, the slumbering whale; Soon as the javelins pierce his scaly hide, With anguish stung, he cleaves the downward tide In vain he flies! no friendly respite found; His life-blood gushes through th' inflaming wound. The wounded bark, thus smarting with her pain, Scuds from pursuing waves along the main; While, dash'd apart by her dividing prow, Like burning adamant the waters glow. Her joints forget their firm elastic tone; Her long keel trembles, and her timbers groan; Upheaved behind her in tremendous height The billows frown, with fearful radiance bright! Now shivering o'er the topmost wave she rides, While deep beneath th' enormous gulf divides. Now launching headlong down the horrid vale, She hears no more the roaring of the gale; Till up the dreadful height again she flies, Trembling beneath the current of the skies. As that rebellious angel who, from heaven, To regions of eternal pain was driven; When dreadless he forsook the Stygian shore, The distant realms of Eden to explore; Here, on sulphureous clouds sublime upheaved, With daring wing th' infernal air he cleaved; There, in some hideous gulf descending prone, Far in the rayless void of night was thrown.

E'en so she scales the briny mountain's height, Then down the black abyss precipitates her flight The masts around whose tops the whirlwinds sing, With long vibrations round her axle swing. To guide the wayward course amid the gloom, The watchful pilots different posts assume.

To square the yo 13, in this place, is meant to arrange them directly achwart the ship's length.

† Steady is the order to steer the ship according to the line on which she advances at this instant, without deviating to the right or left thereof.

In all large ships, the helm is managed by a wheel.

Though many a princely heart her beauty won,
She, guarded only by a stripling son,
Each bold attempt of suitor-kings repell'd,
And undefiled the nuptial contract held.
With various arts to win her love they toil'd,
But all their wiles by virtuous fraud she foil'd.
True to her vows, and resolutely chaste,
The beauteous princess triumph'd at the last.

Argos, in Greece forgotten and unknown,
Still seems her cruel fortune to bemoan;
Argos, whose monarch led the Grecian hosts
Far o'er the Ægean main to Dardan coasts.
Unhappy prince! who on a hostile shore,
Toil, peril, anguish, ten long winters bore.
And when to native realms restored at last,
To reap the harvest of thy labours past,
A perjured friend, alas! and faithless wife,
There sacrificed to impious lust thy life;-
Fast by Arcadia, stretch these desert plains;
And o'er the land a gloomy tyrant reigns.

Next the fair isle of Helena* is seen,
Where adverse winds detain'd the Spartan queen;
For whom, in arms combined, the Grecian host,
With vengeance fired, invaded Phrygia's coast;
For whom so long they labour'd to destroy
The sacred turrets of imperial Troy.
Here, driven by Juno's rage, the hapless dame,
Forlorn of heart, from ruin'd Ilion came.
The port an image bears of Parian stone,
Of ancient fabric, but of date unknown.

Due east from this appears th' immortal shore
That sacred Phœbus and Diana bore.
Delos, through all th' Ægean seas renown'd:
(Whose coast the rocky Cyclades surround)
By Phœbus honour'd and by Greece revered!
Her hallow'd groves e'en distant Persia fear'd:
But now, a silent unfrequented land!

No human footstep marks the trackless sand.

Thence to the north, by Asia's western bound Fair Lemnos stands, with rising marble crown'd; Where, in her rage, avenging Juno hurl'd Ill-fated Vulcan from th' ethereal world. There his eternal anvils first he rear'd; Then, forged by Cyclopean art, appear'd Thunders, that shook the skies with dire alarms, And, form'd by skill divine, Vulcanian arms. There, with this crippled wretch, the foul disgrace And living scandal of th' empyreal race, The beauteous queen of Love in wedlock dwelt. In fires profane, can heavenly bosoms melt?

Eastward of this appears the Dardan shore, That once th' imperial towers of Ilium bore. Illustrious Troy! renown'd in every clime, Through the long annals of unfolding time! How oft, thy royal bulwarks to defend, Thou saw'st thy tutelar gods in vain descend! Though chiefs unnumber'd in her cause were

slain,

Though nations perish'd on her bloody plain;
That refuge of perfidious Helen's shame
Was doom'd at length to sink in Grecian flame.
And now, by Time's deep ploughshare harrow'd
o'er,

The seat of sacred Troy is found no more:
No trace of all her glories now remains!
But corn and vines enrich her cultured plains.

Now known by the name of Micronisi.

Silver Scamander laves the verdant shore;
Scamander oft o'erflow'd with hostile gore!
Not far removed from Ilion's famous land,
In counter view, appears the Thracian strand;
Where beauteous Hero, from the turret's height,
Display'd her cresset each revolving night;
Whose gleam directed loved Leander o'er
The rolling Hellespont to Asia's shore,
Till, in a fated hour, on Thracia's coast,
She saw her lover's lifeless body tost;
Then felt her bosom agony severe;
Her eyes, sad gazing, pour'd th' incessant tear!
O'erwhelm'd with anguish, frantic with despair,
She beat her beauteous breast and tore her hair-
On dear Leander's name in vain she cried;
Then headlong plunged into the parting tide
The parting tide received the lovely weight,
And proudly flow'd, exulting in its freight!

Far west of Thrace, beyond th' Ægean main, Remote from ocean, lies the Delphic plain. The sacred oracle of Phœbus there

High o'er the mount arose, divinely fair!
Achaian marble form'd the gorgeous pile;
August the fabric! elegant its style!
On brazen hinges turn'd the silver doors;
And checker'd marble paved the polish'd floors.
The roofs, where storied tablature appear'd,
On columns of Corinthian mould were rear'd s
Of shining porphyry the shafts were framed,
And round the hollow dome bright jewels flamed
Apollo's suppliant priests, a blameless train!
Framed their oblation on the holy fane:
To front the sun's declining ray 'twas placed;
With golden harps and living laurels graced.
The sciences and arts around the shrine
Conspicuous shone, engraved by hands divine!
Here Esculapius' snake display'd his crest,
And burning glories sparkled on his breast;
While, from his eye's insufferable light,
Disease and Death recoil'd, in headlong flight.
Of this great temple, through all time renown'c
Sunk in oblivion, no remains are found.

Contiguous here, with hallow'd woods o' spread,

Parnassus lifts to heaven its honour'd head; Where from the deluge saved, by Heaven's con.

mand,

Deucalion leading Pyrrha, hand in hand,
Repeopled all the desolated land.
Around the scene unfading laurels grow,
And aromatic flowers for ever blow.
The winged choirs, on every tree above,
Carol sweet numbers through the vocal grove;
While o'er th' eternal spring that smiles beneath,
Young zephyrs borne on rosy pinions breathe.
Fair daughters of the Sun! the sacred Nine,
Here wake to ecstasy their songs divine;
Or crown'd with myrtle in some sweet alcove,
Attune the tender strings to bleeding love;
All sadly sweet the balmy currents roll,
Soothing to softest peace the tortured soul,
While hill and vale with choral voice around
The music of immortal harps resound,
Fair Pleasure leads in dance the happy hours,
Still scattering where she moves Elysian flowers!
Even now, the strains, with sweet contagion

fraught,

Shed a delicious languor o'er the thought

Adieu, ye vales, that smiling peace bestow,
Where Eden's blossoms ever vernal blow!
Adieu, ye streams, that o'er enchanted ground
In lucid maze the Aonian hills surround!
Ye fairy scenes, where Fancy loves to dwell,
And young Delight, for ever, O farewell!
The soul with tender luxury you fill,
And o'er the sense Lethean dews distil!
Awake, O Memory, from th' inglorious dream!
With brazen lungs resume the kindling theme!
Collect thy powers! arouse thy vital fire!
Ye spirits of the storm, my verse inspire!
Hoarse as the whirlwinds that enrage the main,
In torrents pour along the swelling strain!

Now, borne impetuous o'er the boiling deeps,
Her course to Attic shores the vessel keeps:
The pilots, as the waves behind her swell,
Still with the wheeling stern their force repel.
For, this assault should either quarter* feel,
Again to flank the tempest she might reel.
The steersmen every bidden turn apply;
To right and left the spokes alternate fly.
Thus when some conquer'd host retreats in fear,
The bravest leaders guard the broken rear :
Indignant they retire, and long oppose
Superior armies that around them close;
Still shield the flanks, the routed squadrons join,
And guide the flight in one imbodied line.

So they direct the flying bark before Th' impelling floods, that lash her to the shore. As some benighted traveller, through the shade, Explores the devious path with heart dismay'd; While prowling savages behind him roar, And yawning pits and quagmires lurk beforeHigh o'er the poop the audacious seas aspire, Uproll'd in hills of fluctuating fire. As some fell conqueror, frantic with success, Sheds o'er the nations ruin and distress; So, while the watery wilderness he roams, Incensed to sevenfold rage the tempest foams; And o'er the trembling pines, above, below,

Hark! his strong voice the dismal silence breaks:
Mad chaos from the chains of death awakes!
Loud and more loud the rolling peals enlarge;
And blue on deck their blazing sides discharge;
There, all aghast, the shivering wretches stood;
While chill suspense and fear congeal'd their blood.
Now in a deluge burst the living flame,
And dread concussion rends th' ethereal frame.
Sick Earth, convulsive, groans from shore to shore,
And Nature, shuddering, feels the horrid roar.

Still the sad prospect rises on my sight,
Reveal'd in all its mournful shade and light;
Swift through my pulses glides the kindling fire,
As lightning glances on th' electric wire.
But, ah! the force of numbers strives in vain,
The glowing scene unequal to sustain.

But, lo! at last, from tenfold darkness born, Forth issues o'er the wave the weeping morn. Hail, sacred Vision! who, on orient wings, The cheering dawn of light propitious brings! All Nature, smiling, hail'd the vivid ray, That gave her beauties to returning day: All but our ship, that, groaning on the tide, No kind relief, no gleam of hope descried. For now, in front, her trembling inmates see The hills of Greece emerging on the lee. So the lost lover views that fatal morn, On which, for ever from his bosom torn, The nymph adored resigns her blooming charms, To bless with love some happier rival's arms. So to Eliza dawn'd that cruel day That tore Æneas from her arms away; That saw him parting never to return, Herself in funeral flames decreed to burn. O yet in clouds, thou genial source of light, Conceal thy radiant glories from our sight! Go, with thy smile adorn the happy plain, [reign. And gild the scenes where health and pleasure But let not here, in scorn, thy wanton beam Insult the dreadful graudeur of my theme! While shoreward now the bounding vessel flies,

Now thunders wafted from the burning zone,

head.

Growl from afar, a deaf and hollow groan!
The ship's high battlements, to either side
For ever rocking, drink the briny tide;
Her joints unhinged, in palsied languors play,
As ice dissolves beneath the noontide ray.
The skies asunder torn, a deluge pour;
The impetuous hail descends in whirling shower.
High on the masts, with pale and livid rays,
Amid the gloom portentous meteors blaze.
Th' ethereal dome, in mournful pomp array'd,
Now lurks behind impenetrable shade;
Now, flashing round intolerable light,
Redoubles all the terrors of the night.

Such terrors Sinai's quaking hill o'erspread,

It seem'd, the wrathful angel of the wind
Had all the horrors of the skies combined;
And here, to one ill-fated ship opposed,
At once the dreadful magazine disclosed.
And lo! tremendous o'er the deep he springs,
Th' inflaming sulphur flashing from his wings!-

Canto.

High o'er the rest a pointed crag is seen,
That hung projecting o'er a mossy green.
Nearer and nearer now the danger grows
And all their skill relentless fates oppose ;
For, while more eastward they direct the prow,
Enormous waves the quivering deck o'erflow.
While, as she wheels, unable to subdue
Her sallies, still they dread her broaching-to.*
Alarming thought! for now no more a-lee
Her riven side could bear th' invading sea;
And if the following surge she sends before,
Headlong she runs upon the dreadful shore:
A shore where shelves and hidden rocks abound.
Where Death in secret ambush lurks around.
Far less dismay'd, Anchises' wandering son

When Palinurus, from the helm descried The rocks of Scylla on his eastern side;

* Broaching-to is a sudden and involuntary movement in navigation, wherein a ship, whilst sailing or seudding before the wind, unexpectedly turns her side to wind ward. It is generally occasioned by the difficulty of steering her, or by some disaster happening to the