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.
Ne'er shall receive her traitors back. This spot Shall see their perfidy aton'd by death, Ev'n from that pow'r, to which their abject hearts Have sacrific'd their faith. Nor dare to hope, Ye vile deserters of the public weal,
Ye coward slaves, that, mingled in the heaps Of gen'rous victims to their country's good, You shall your shame conceal. Whoe'er shall pass Along this field of glorious slain, and mark For veneration ev'ry nobler corse;
His heart, though warm in rapturous applause, Awhile shall curb the transport to repeat His execrations o'er such impious heads, On whom that fate, to others yielding fame, Is infamy and vengeance." Dreadful thus On the pale Thebans sentence he pronounc'd, Like Rhadamanthus from th' infernal seat Of judgment, which inexorably dooms The guilty dead to ever-during pain; While Phlegethon his flaming volumes rolls Before their sight, and ruthless furies shake
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 beat 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, Eschylus. 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, 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 Melibus, earnest he surveys Leonidas. Such constancy of zeal In good Oileus' 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 Oïleus, 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.
A surface hideous, delug'd o'er with blood, Beyond my view illimitably stretch'd, One vast expanse of horrour. There supine, Of huge dimension, cov'ring half the plain, A giant corse lay mangled, red with wounds, Delv'd in th' enormous flesh, which, bubbling, fed Ten thousand thousand grisly beaks and jaws, Insatiably devouring. Mute I gaz'd; When from behind I heard a second sound Like surges, tumbling o'er a craggy shore. Again I turn'd. An ocean there appear'd With riven keels and shrouds, with shiver'd oars, With arms and welt'ring carcasses bestrewn Innumerous. The billows foam'd in blood. But where the waters, unobserv'd before, Between two adverse shores, contracting, roll'd A stormy current, on the beach forlorn One of majestic stature I descry'd In ornaments imperial. Oft he bent
On me his clouded eyeballs. Oft my name He sounded forth in execrations loud;
Then rent his splendid garments; then his head In rage divested of its graceful hairs. Impatient now he ey'd a slender skiff, [proach'd. Which, mounted high on boistrous waves, ap- With indignation, with reluctant grief Once more his sight reverting, he embark'd Amid the perils of the frowning deep.
'O thou, by glorious actions rank'd in Heav'n,' I here exclaim'd, instruct me. What produc'd This desolation?' Hercules reply'd. 'Let thy astonish'd eye again survey
The scene thy soul abhorr'd.' I look'd. I saw A land, where Plenty with disporting hands Pour'd all the fruits of Amalthea's horn;
Before we march. Remember, from the rites Let ev'ry sound be absent; not the fife, Not ev'n the music-breathing flute be heard. Meantime, ye leaders, ev'ry band instruct To move in silence." Mindful of their charge, The chiefs depart. Leonidas provides His various armour. His best ass stant. The spacious chest.
Agis close attends, First a breastplate arms
O'er this the hero spreads
The mailed cuirass, from his shoulders hung. A 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 centre on projecting brass Th' inimitable artist had emboss'd The shape of great Alcides; whom to gain Two goddesses contended. Pleasure here Won by soft wiles th' attracted eye; and there The form of Virtue dignify'd the scene. In her majestic sweetness was display'd The mind sublime and happy. From her lips Seem'd eloquence to flow. In look serene,
But fix'd intensely on the son of Jove, She way'd her hand, where, winding to the skies, Her paths ascended. On the suminit stood, Supported by a trophy near to Heav'n, Fame, and protended her eternal trump. The youth, attentive to her wisdom, own'd The prevalence of Virtue; while his eye, Fill'd by that spirit which redeem'd the world From tyranny and mousters, darted flames; Not undescry'd by Pleasure, where she lay Beneath a gorgeous canopy. Around Were flowrets strewn, and wantonly in rills A fount meander'd. All relax'd her limbs;
Where bloom'd the olive; where the clustring vine Nor wanting yet solicitude to gain,
With her broad foliage mantled ev'ry hill; Where Ceres with exuberance enrob'd The pregnant bosoms of the fields in gold :
Where spacious towns, whose circuits proud con- tain'd
The dazzling works of wealth, along the banks Of copious rivers show'd their stately tow'rs, The strength and splendour of the peopled land. Then in a moment clouds obscur'd my view; At once all vanish'd from my waking eyes." "Thrice I salute the omen," loud began The sage Megistias. "In this mystic dream I see my country's victories. The land,
The deep shall own her triumphs; while the tears Of Asia and of Lybia shall deplore Their offspring, cast before the vulture's beak, And ev'ry monstrous native of the main. Those joyous fields of plenty picture Greece, Enrich'd by conquest, and barbarian spoils. He, whom thou saw'st, in regal vesture clad, Print on the sand his solitary step, Is Xerxes, foil'd and fugitive." So spake The rev'rend augur. Ev'ry bosom felt Enthusiastic rapture, joy beyond
All sense, and all conception, but of those, Who die to save their country. Here again Th' exulting band Leonidas 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. But go, Megistias. Instantly prepare The sacred fuel, and the victim due; That to the Muses (so by Sparta's law We are enjoin'd) our off'rings may be paid,
What lost she fear'd, as struggling with despair, She seem'd collecting ev'ry pow'r to charm: Excess of sweet allurement she diffus'd In vain. Still Virtue sway'd Alcides' mind. Hence all his labours. Wrought with vary'd art, The shield's external surface they enrich'd.
This portraiture of glory on his arm Leonidas displays, and, tow'ring, strides From bis pavilion. Ready are the bands. The chiefs assume their station. Torches blaze Through ev'ry file. All now in silent pace To join in solemn sacrifice proceed. First Polydorus bears the hallow'd knife, The sacred salt and barley. At his side Diomedon sustains a weighty mace. The priest, Megistias, follows like the rest In polish'd armour. White, as winter's fleece, A fillet round his shining helm reveals The sacerdotal honours. By the horns, Where laurels twine, with Alpheus, Maron leads The consecrated ox. And, lo! behind, Leonidas advances. Never he In such transcendent majesty was seen, And his own virtue never so enjoy'd. Successive move Dieneces the brave; In hoary state Demophilus; the bloom Of Dithyrambus, glowing in the hope Of future praise; the gen'rous Agis next, Serene and graceful; last the Theban chiefs, Repining, ignominious: then slow march The troops all mute, nor shake their brazen arms. Not from Thermopylæ remote the hills
Of Eta, yielding to a fruitful dale, Within their side, half-circling, had enclos'd
A fair expanse in verdure smooth. The bounds Were edg'd by wood, o'erlook'd by snowy cliffs, Which from the clouds bent frowning. Down a rock Above the loftiest summit of the grove
A tumbling torrent wore the shagged stone; Then, gleaming through the intervals of shade, Attain'd the valley, where the level stream Diffus'd refreshment. On its banks the Greeks Had rais'd a rustic altar, fram'd of turf. Broad was the surface, high in piles of wood, All interspers'd with laurel. Purer deem'd Than river, lake, or fountain, in a vase Old Ocean's briny element was plac'd Before the altar; and of wine unmix'd Capacious goblets stood. Megistias now His helm unloosen'd. With his snowy head, Uncover'd, round the solemn pile he trod. He shook a branch of laurel, scatt'ring wide The sacred moisture of the main. His hand Next on the altar, on the victim strew'd The mingled salt and barley. O'er the horns Th' inverted chalice, foaming from the grape, Discharg'd a rich libation. Then approach'd Diomedon. Megistias gave the sign. Down sunk the victim by a deathful stroke, Nor groan'd. The, augur bury'd in the throat His hallow'd steel. A purple current flow'd. Now smok'd the structure, now it flam'd abroad In sudden splendour. Deep in circling ranks The Grecians press'd. Each held a sparkling brand; The beaming lances intermix'd; the helms, The burnish'd armour multiply'd the blaze. Leonidas drew nigh. Before the pile His feet he planted. From his brows remov'd, The casque to Agis he consign'd, his shield, His spear to Dithyrambus; then, his arms Extending, forth in supplication broke.
"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 stream, Or Aganippe's murmur, if from thence We must invoke your presence; or along The neighb'ring mountains with propitious steps If now you grace your consecrated bow'rs, Look down, ye Muses; nor disdain to stand Each an immortal witness of our fate. But with you bring fair Liberty, whom Jove And you must honour. Let her sacred eyes Approve her dying Grecians; let her voice In exultation tell the Earth and Heav'ns,
Imbrue his hoofs in blood, the shatter'd cars Crush with their brazen weight the prostrate necks Of chiefs and kings, encircled, as they fall, By nations slain. You, countrymen and friends, My last commands retain. 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 see Impatient valour flash from ev'ry eye. O temper well that ardour, and your lips Close on the rising transport. Mark, how Sleep Hath folded millions in his black embrace. No sound is wafted from th' unnumber'd foe. The winds themselves are silent. All conspires To this great sacrifice, where thousands soon Shall only wake to die. Their crowded train This night perhaps to Pluto's dreary shades Ev'n Xerxes's ghost may lead, unless reserv'd From this destruction to lament a doom
Of more disgrace, when Greece confounds that pow'r Which we will shake. But look, the setting Moon Shuts on our darksome paths her waning horns. Let each his head distinguish by a wreath Of well earn'd laurel. Then the victim share, Then crown the goblet. Take your last repast; With your forefathers, and the heroes old, You next will banquet in the bless'd abodes." Here ends their leader. Through th' encircling The agitation of their spears denotes [crowd High ardour. So the spiry growth of pines Is rock'd, when Eolus in eddies winds Among their stately trunks on Pelion's brow. The Acarnanian seer distributes swift The sacred laurel. Snatch'd in eager zeal, Around each helm the woven leaves unite Their glossy verdure to the floating plumes. Then is the victim portion'd. In the bowl Then flows the vine's empurpled stream. Aloof The Theban train, in wan dejection mute, Brood o'er their shame, or cast affrighted looks On that determin'd courage, which, unmov'd At Fate's approach, with cheerful lips could taste The sparkling goblet, could in joy partake That last, that glorious banquet. Ev'n the heart Of Anaxander had forgot its wiles,
Dissembling fear no longer. Agis here, Regardful ever of the king's command, Accosts the Theban chiefs in whispers thus. "Leonidas permits you to retire. While on the rites of sacrifice employ'd, None heed your motions. Separate and fly
These are her sons. Then strike your tuneful shells. In silent pace." This heard, th' inglorious troop,
Record us guardians of our parent's age, Our matron's virtue, and our children's bloom, The glorious bulwarks of our country's laws, Who shall ennoble the historian's page, Shall on the joyous festival inspire With loftier strains the virgin's choral song. Then, O celestial maids, on yonder camp Let night sit heavy. Let 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, Control our fury, nor by tumult wild The friendly dark affright; till dying groans Of slaughter'd tyrants into horrour wake The midnight calm. Then turn destruction loose. Let terrour, let confusion rage around, In one vast ruin heap the barb'rous ranks,
Their files dissolving, from the rest withdraw. Unseen they moulder from the host like snow, Freed from the rigour of constraining frost; Soon as the Sun exerts his orient beam, The transitory landscape melts in rills Away, and structures, which delude the eye, Insensibly are lost. The solemn feast Was now concluded. Now Laconia's king Had reassum'd his arms. Before his step The crowd roll backward. In their gladden'd sight His crest, illumin'd by uplifted brands, Its purple splendour shakes. The tow'ring oak Thus from a lofty promontory waves His majesty of verdure. As with joy The sailors mark his heav'n-ascending pride, Which from afar directs their foamy course Along the pathless ocean; so the Greeks
Their horse, their chariots. Let the spurning steed In transport gaze, as down their op'ning ranks
The king proceeds: from whose superior frame 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 Jo wanton flight essays his vig'rous wing, Ere long with her to penetrate the clouds, To dart impetuous on the fleecy train, And dye his beak in gore; by Sparta's king The injur'd Polydorus thus prepares
His arm for death. He feasts his angry soul On promis'd vengeance. His impatient thoughts Ev'n now transport him furious to the seat Of his long sorrows, not with fetter'd hands, But now once more a Spartan with his spear, His shield restor'd, to lead his country's bands, And with them devastation. Nor the rest Neglect to form. Thick-rang'd, the helmets blend Their various plumes, as intermingling oaks Combine their foliage in Dodona's grove; Or as the cedars on the Syrian hills
Their shady texture spread. Once more the king, O'er all the phalanx his consid'rate view Extending, through the ruddy gleam descries One face of gladness; but the godlike van He most contemplates: Agis, Alpheus there, Megistias, Maron with Platæa's chief, Dieneces, Demophilus are seen
With Thespia's youth: nor they their steady sight From his remove, in speechless transport bound By love, by veneration; till they hear His last injunction. To their diff'rent posts They sep'rate. Instant on the dewy turf Are cast th' extinguish'd brands. On all around Drops sudden darkness, on the wood, the hill, The snowy ridge, the vale, the silver stream. It verg'd on midnight. Tow'rd the hostile camp In march compos'd and silent down the pass The phalanx mov'd. Each patient bosom hush'd Its struggling spirit, nor in whispers breath'd The rapt'rous ardour virtue then inspir'd. So louring clouds along th' ethereal void In slow expansion from the gloomy north Awhile suspend their horrours, destin'd soon To blaze in lightnings, and to burst in storms.
Leonidas and the Grecians penetrate through the Persian camp to the very pavilion of Xerxes, who avoids destruction by flight. The barbarians are slaughtered in great multitudes, and their camp is set on fire. Leonidas conducts his men in good order back to Thermopylæ, engages the Persians, who were descended from the hills, and after numberless proofs of superior strength and valour, sinks down covered with wounds, and expires the last of all the Grecian commanders.
ACROSS th' unguarded bound of Asia's camp Slow pass the Grecians. Through innum'rous tents, Where all is mute and tranquil, they pursue Their march sedate. Beneath the leaden hand Of Sleep lie millions motionless and deaf, Nor dream of Fate's approach. Their wary foes, By Polydorus guided, still proceed.
Ev'n to the centre of th' extensive host They pierce unseen; when, lo! th' imperial tent Yet distant rose before them. Spreading round Th' august pavilion, was an ample space For thousands in arrangement. Here a band Of chosen Persians, watchful o'er the king, Held their nocturnal station. As the hearts Of anxious nations, whom th' unsparing sword Or famine threaten, tremble at the sight Of fear-engender'd phantoms in the sky, Aerial hosts amid the clouds array'd, Portending woe and death; the Persian guard In equal consternation now descry'd The glimpse of hostile armour. All disband, As if auxil ar to his favour'd Greeks Pan held their banner, scatt'ring from its folds Fear and confusion, which to Xerxes couch, Swift-winged, fly; thence shake the gen'ral camp, Whose numbers issue naked, pale, unarin'd, Wild in amazement, blinded by dismay, To ev'ry foe obnoxious. In the breasts Of thousands, gor'd at once, the Grecian steel Reeks in destruction. Deluges of blood Float o'er the field, and foam around the heaps Of wretches, slain unconscious of the hand Which wastes their helpless multitude. Amaze, Affright, distraction from his pillow chase The lord of Asia, who in thought beholds United Greece in armis. Thy lust of pow'r! Thy hope of glory! whither are they flown With all thy pomp? In this disastrous hour What could avail th' immeasurable range Of thy proud camp, save only to conceal Thy trembling steps, O Xerxes, while thou fly'st? To thy deserted couch, with other looks, With other steps, Leonidas is nigh. Before him Terrour strides. Gigantic Death, And Desolation at his side, attend.
The vast pavilion's empty space, where lamps Of gold shed light and odours, now admits The hero. Ardent throngs behind him press, But miss their victim. To the ground are hurl'd The glitt'ring ensigns of imperial state. The diadem, the sceptre, late ador'd Through boundless kingdoms, underneath their feet In mingled rage and scorn the warriors crush, A sacrifice to freedom. They return
Again to form. Leonidas exalts,
For new destruction, his resistless spear; When double darkness suddenly descends. The clonds, condensing, intercept the stars. Black o'er the furrow'd main the raging east In whirlwinds sweeps the surge. The coasts resound. The cavern'd rocks, the crashing forests roar. Swift through the camp the hurricane impells Its rude career; when Asia's numbers, veil'd Amid the shelt'ring horrours of the storm, Evade the victor's lance. The Grecians halt; While to their gen'rals pregnant mind occurs A new attempt and vast. Perpetual fire Beside the tent of Xerxes, from the hour He lodg'd his standards on the Malian plains,
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