Ex. 100. Alexander's Feast. "Twas at the royal feast for Persia won Aloft, in awful state, The god-like hero sat On his imperial throne. His valiant peers were placed around, The lovely Thais, by his side, Sat like a blooming eastern bride, None but the brave, None but the brave, None but the brave deserves the fair. Timotheus, placed on high, With flying fingers touch'd the lyre : The list'ning crowd admire the lofty sound: A present deity! they shout around! A present deity! the vaulted roofs rebound.- The monarch hears, And seems to shake the spheres. The praise of Bacchus, then, the sweet musician sung, The jolly god in triumph comes ! Sound the trumpets! beat the drums! Flush'd with a purple grace, He shows his honest face. Now give the hautboys breath! he comes! he comes! Bacchus ever fair and young, Drinking joys did first ordain; Bacchus' blessings are a treasure; Drinking is the soldier's pleasure Rich the treasure ; Sweet the pleasure; Sweet is pleasure after pain. Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain ; [the slain ! And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew The master saw the madness rise; His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes; And, while he heav'n and earth defied- Soft pity to infuse : He sung Darius, great and good, Fall'n fall'n! fall'n! fall'n! On the bare earth exposed he lies, With not a friend to close his eyes! With downcast look the joyless victor sat, Revolving, in his alter'd soul, The various turns of fate below: The mighty master smiled, to see * Softly sweet, in Lydian measures, * * * The many rend the skies with loud applause : A louder yet, and yet a louder strain! And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder! Has raised up his head, K Revenge! revenge! Timotheus cries- See the snakes that they rear, And the sparkles that flash from their eyes! Each a torch in his hand! These are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were slain, Inglorious on the plain! Give the vengeance due Behold! how they toss their torches on high, And glitt❜ring temples of their hostile gods! And the king seized a flambeau, with zeal to destroy To light him to his prey; And, like another Helen, fired another Troy! Thus, long ago, Ere heaving bellows learned to blow, While organs yet were mute; Timotheus, to his breathing flute And sounding lyre, Could swell the soul to rage-or kindle soft desire. Inventress of the vocal frame. The sweet enthusiast from her sacred store, Enlarged the former narrow bounds, With nature's mother wit, and arts unknown before. Ex. 101. Or both divide the crown : He raised a mortal to the skies; Rome. Dryden. O Rome! my country! city of the soul, Whose agonies are evils of a day ;— Of their heroic dwellers! Dost thou flow, Rise, with thy yellow waves, and mantle her distress. The trebly hundred triumphs! and the day Alas for earth! for never shall we see The brightness in her eye she bore when Rome was free. Ex. 102. Lay of Horatius. Lars Porsena of Clusium by the Nine Gods he swore Byron. That the great house of Tarquin should suffer wrong no more, By the Nine Gods he swore it, and named a trysting day, And bade his messengers ride forth East and west, and north and south, To summon his array. East and west and south and north the messengers ride fast, And tower and town and cottage have heard the trumpet's blast, Shame on the false Etruscan who lingers in his home, When Porsena of Clusium is on the march for Rome. The horsemen and the footmen are pouring in amain plain; From many a lonely hamlet, which, hid by beech and pine, From where Cortona lifts to heaven her diadem of towers. sheep; And in the vats of Luna, this year, the must shall foam Round the white feet of laughing girls, whose sires have marched to Rome. There be thirty chosen prophets, the wisest of the land, yore. And with one voice the Thirty have their glad answer given: 'Go forth, go forth, Lars Porsena; go forth, beloved of Heaven; Go, and return in glory to Clusium's royal dome; And hang round Nurscia's altars the golden shields of Rome.' * But hark! the cry is Astur; and, lo! the ranks divide; Then whirling up his broadsword with both hands to the height, He rushed against Horatius and smote with all his might. |