And stars unnumber'd o'er the orient shone, From Syria's palmy groves to Andalusia's shore. XXXV. Those years have past in radiance—they have past, As sinks the daystar in the tropic main; And Fame and Science have not left a trace A wild without a fountain or a flower, Where towers Oppression midst the deepening glooms, As dark and lone ascends the cypress midst the tombs. XXXVI. Alas for thee, fair Greece! when Asia pour'd Her fierce fanatics to Byzantium's wall; When Europe sheath'd, in apathy, her sword, And heard unmoved the fated city's call. No bold crusaders ranged their serried line Of spears and banners round a falling throne; And thou, O last and noblest Constantine ! 2 Didst meet the storm unshrinking and alone. Oh! blest to die in freedom, though in vain— Thine empire's proud exchange the grave, and not the chain ! XXXVII. Hush'd is Byzantium-'tis the dead of night— 1 "Sept des plus fameux parmi les anciens poetes Arabiques sont désignés par les écrivains orientaux sous le nom de Pleiade Arabique, et leurs ouvrages étaient suspendus autour de la Canba, ou Mosque de la Mecque."-SISMONDI, Littérature du Midr. 2 The distress and fall of the last Constantine are more glorious than the long prosperity of the Byzantine Cæsars."— GIBBON'S Decline and Fall, &c. vol. xii. p. 226. 3 See the description of the night previous to the taking of Constantinople by Mahomet II.-GIBBON'S Decline and Fall, c. vol. xii. p. 225. There is a murmuring stillness on the train Thronging the midnight streets, at morn to die; And to the cross, in fair Sophia's fane, For the last time is raised Devotion's eye; And, in his heart while faith's bright visions rise, There kneels the high-soul'd prince, the summon'd of the skies. XXXVIII. Day breaks in light and glory-'tis the hour Of conflict and of fate-the war-note callsDespair hath lent a stern, delirious power To the brave few that guard the rampart walls. Far over Marmora's waves th' artillery's peal Proclaims an empire's doom in every note; Tambour and trumpet swell the clash of steel, Round spire and dome the clouds of battle float; From camp and wave rush on the Crescent's host, And the Seven Towers are scaled, and all is won and lost. XXXIX. Then, Greece! the tempest rose that burst on thee, Land of the bard, the warrior, and the sage! Oh! where were then thy sons, the great, the free, Whose deeds are guiding stars from age to age? Though firm thy battlements of crags and snows, And bright the memory of thy days of pride, In mountain might though Corinth's fortress rose, On, unresisted, roll'd th' invading tide! Oh! vain the rock, the rampart, and the tower, If Freedom guard them not with Mind's unconquer'd power. XL. Where were th' avengers then, whose viewless might Preserved inviolate their awful fane,5 When through the steep defiles, to Delphi's height, In martial splendour pour'd the Persian's train? Then did those mighty and mysterious Powers, Arm'd with the elements, to vengeance wake, Call the dread storms to darken round their towers, Hurl down the rocks, and bid the thunders break; 4 "This building (the Castle of the Seven Towers) is mentioned as early as the sixth century of the Christian era, as a spot which contributed to the defence of Constantinople; and it was the principal bulwark of the town on the coast of the Propontis, in the last periods of the empire."-PouQUEVILLE'S Travels in the Morea. 5 See the account from Herodotus of the supernatural defence of Delphi.-MITFORD'S Greece, vol. i. p. 396-7. C 1 "In succeeding ages the Athenians honoured Theseus as a demigod, induced to it as well by other reasons as because, when they were fighting the Medes at Marathon, a considerable part of the army thought they saw the apparition of Theseus completely armed, and bearing down before them upon the barbarians."-LANGHORNE'S Plutarch, Life of Theseus. 2" From Thermopyla to Sparta, the leader of the Goths (Alaric) pursued his victorious march without encountering any mortal antagonist; but one of the advocates of expiring paganism has confidently asserted that the walls of Athens were guarded by the goddess Minerva, with her formidable ægis, and by the angry phantom of Achilles, and that the conqueror was dismayed by the presence of the hostile deities of Greece."-GIBBON'S Decline and Fall, &c. vol. v. p. 183. "Even all the chief ones of the earth."-ISAIAH, XIV. 4 "How are the mighty fallen, and the weapons of war perished!"-SAMUEL, book ii. chap. i. XLIV. Yet, where some lone sepulchral relic stands, That with those names tradition hallows yet, Oft shall the wandering son of other lands Linger in solemn thought and hush'd regret. And still have legends mark'd the lonely spot Where low the dust of Agamemnon lies; And shades of kings and leaders unforgot, Hovering around, to fancy's vision rise. Souls of the heroes! seek your rest again, Nor mark how changed the realms that saw your glory's reign. XLV. Lo, where th' Albanian spreads his despot sway O'er Thessaly's rich vales and glowing plains, Whose sons in sullen abjectness obey, Nor lift the hand indignant at its chains: Oh! doth the land that gave Achilles birth, And many a chief of old illustrious line, Yield not one spirit of unconquer'd worth To kindle those that now in bondage pine? No! on its mountain-air is slavery's breath, And terror chills the hearts whose utter'd plaints were death. XLVI. Yet if thy light, fair Freedom, rested there, How rich in charms were that romantic clime, With streams, and woods, and pastoral valleys fair, And wall'd with mountains, haughtily sublime! Heights that might well be deem'd the Muses' reign, Since, claiming proud alliance with the skies, They lose in loftier spheres their wild domainMeet home for those retired divinities That love, where nought of earth may e'er intrude, Brightly to dwell on high, in lonely sanctitude. XLVII. There in rude grandeur daringly ascends Girdled with mists, light-floating as to hide Yet bright on carth their fame who proudly fell, True to their shields, the champions of thy cause, Whose funeral column bade the stranger tell How died the brave, obedient to thy laws!1 O lofty mother of heroic worth, How couldst thou live to bring a meaner offspring forth? LVL. Hadst thou but perish'd with the free, nor known A second race, when glory's noon went by, Then had thy name in single brightness shone A watchword on the helm of liberty! Thou shouldst have pass'd with all the light of fame, And proudly sunk in ruins, not in chains. But slowly set thy star midst clouds of shame, And tyrants rose amidst thy falling fanes; And thou, surrounded by thy warriors' graves, Hast drain'd the bitter cup once mingled for thy slaves. LVII. Now all is o'er-for thee alike are flown Freedom's bright noon and slavery's twilight cloud; And in thy fall, as in thy pride, alone, And wild-flowers wave, unbent by human tread; And midst thy silence, as the grave's profound, A voice, a step, would seem as some unearthly sound. LVIII. Taygetus still lifts his awful brow High o'er the mouldering city of the dead, And yet his rippling wave Eurotas leads Rise as of old, when hail'd by classic strain; 1 The inscription composed by Simonides for the Spartan monument in the pass of Thermopyla has been thus translated:"Stranger, go tell the Lacedemonians that we have obeyed their laws, and that we lie here." There the rose-laurels still in beauty wave," And a frail shrub survives to bloom o'er Sparta's grave. LIX. Oh, thus it is with man! A tree, a flower, While nations perish, still renews its race, And o'er the fallen records of his power Spreads in wild pomp, or smiles in fairy grace. The laurel shoots when those have pass'd away, Once rivals for its crown, the brave, the free ; The rose is flourishing o'er beauty's clay, The myrtle blows when love hath ceased to be; Green waves the bay when song and bard are fled, And all that round us blooms is blooming o'er the dead. LX. And still the olive spreads its foliage round Deem'd a meet offering for celestial powers. Its leaves the Spartan's honour'd bier o'erspread. Those rites have vanish'd-but o'er vale and hill Its fruitful groves arise, revered and hallow'd still.4 LXI. Where now thy shrines, Eleusis! where thy fane 2"In the Eurotas I observed abundance of those famous reeds which were known in the earliest ages; and all the rivers and marshes of Greece are replete with rose-laurels, while the springs and rivulets are covered with lilies, tuberoses, hyacinths, and narcissus orientalis."-PoUQUEVILLE'S Travels in the Morca. 3 It was usual for suppliants to carry an olive branch bound with wool. 4 The olive, according to Pouqueville, is still regarded with veneration by the people of the Morea. 5 It was customary at Eleusis, on the fifth day of the festival, for men and women to run about with torches in their hands, and also to dedicate torches to Ceres, and to contend who should present the largest. This was done in memory of the journey of Ceres in search of Proserpine, dur ing which she was lighted by a torch kindled in the flames of Etna.-PORTER'S Antiquities of Greece, vol. i. p. 392. Whose wave from Salamis deserted flows, To bathe a silent shore of desolate repose. LXII. And oh, ye secret and terrific powers! How long carth dreamt of you, and shudderingly obey'd! LXIII. And say, what marvel, in those carly days, While yet the light of heaven-born truth was not, If man around him cast a fearful gaze, Peopling with shadowy powers each dell and grot? Awful is nature in her savage forms, Her solemn voice commanding in its might, And mystery then was in the rush of storms, The gloom of woods, the majesty of night; And mortals heard Fate's language in the blast, And rear'd your forest-shrines, ye phantoms of the past! LXIV. Then through the foliage not a breeze might sigh Pervaded loneliness, gave soul to sound; Of them the fount, the forest, murmur'd still, Their voice was in the stream, their footstep on the hill. Oh that such dreams alone had fled that clime! But Greece is changed in all that could be changed by time! LXVI. Her skies are those whence many a mighty bard Caught inspiration, glorious as their beams; Her hills the same that heroes died to guard, Her vales, that foster'd Art's divinest dreams! But that bright spirit o'er the land that shone, And all around pervading influence pour'd, That lent the harp of Eschylus its tone, And proudly hallow'd Lacedæmon's sword, And guided Phidias o'er the yielding stone, With them its ardours lived-with them its light is flown. LXVII. Thebes, Corinth, Argos !-ye renown'd of old, Where are your chiefs of high romantic name? How soon the tale of ages may be told! A page, a verse, records the fall of fame, The work of centuries. We gaze on you, O cities once the glorious and the free, The lofty tales that charm'd our youth renew, And wondering ask, if these their scenes could be! Search for the classic fane, the regal tomb, And find the mosque alone-a record of their doom! LXVIII. How oft hath war his host of spoilers pour'd, And banners floated on the balmy gales. LXIX. And through Arcadia's wild and lone retreats Far other sounds have echo'd than the strain LXV. Now is the train of Superstition flown! nian fountain, are still to be seen amongst the rocks near Livadia, though the situation of the cave of Trophonius, in their vicinity, cannot be exactly ascertained.-See HOLLAND'S Travels. 2 Elis was anciently a sacred territory, its inhabitants being considered as consecrated to the service of Jupiter. All armies marching through it delivered up their weapons, and received them again when they had passed its boundary. |