Like Telamonian Tencer on the mound Of Atreus' son, where Fate's unerring hand [dead Had strung the bow which heap'd with Phrygian Th' empurpled fosse, while Ajax swung abroad The sev'n-fold shield to guard a brother's skill. Still in the field Masistius, who observ'd The active archer, from his lofty seat Against him whirls a javelin. Cimon near Receives the blunted weapon on the boss Of his huge buckler. His vindictive bow Olympiodorus bends; the rapid shaft Full in the forehead of the gen'rous steed He lodges deep. The high Nisæan blood Boils in its channels through tormenting pain; Erect the courser paws in air, and hurls In writhing agitation from his back Th' illustrious rider on the plain supine. Against him rush th' Athenians; on his feet They find him brandishing his sabre keen, With his firm shield a bulwark to his breast, Like one of those earth-sprung in radiant arms, Whom the Cadmean dragon's fruitful jaws, Or Colchian serpent's teeth, produc'd. Assail'd On ev'ry side, his fortitude augments With danger. Down to Pluto's realm he sends Iphicrates and Eurytus, who drank Callirrhoe's fountain; Amynander, born On smooth Ilissus, and three gallant youths Of Marathon, His cuirass strong withstands Repeated blows; unwounded, but o'ercome By unremitted labour, on his knees,
Like some proud structure half o'erthrown by time, He sinks at last. Brave Cimon hastes to save A foe so noble in his deeds, in port Beyond a mortal; when a vulgar sword That moment through the vizor of his helm Transfix'd the brain, so exquisitely form'd, The seat of purest sentiment and thought. His frame, in ruin beauteous still and great, The fatal stroke laid low. An earthquake thus Shook from his base that wonder of the world, The Colossean deity of Rhodes.
Of danger all unheeding, by his lord Statirus kneel'd, and o'er his bosom spread His palms in anguish. Timely to protect The gentle youth ingenuous Cimon came, While thus the gasping satrap breath'd his last: "Farewell, thou faithful-Bid Mardonius think How brief are life's enjoyments-Virtue lives Through all eternity-By virtue earn'd, Praise too is long-Melissa-grant me thine."
In death, resembling sweetest sleep, his eyes Serenely drop their curtains, and the soul Flies to th' eternal mansions of the just. Within the trenches Cimon straight commands To lodge the corse; when lo! another cloud Of Eastern squadrons, Mindarus their chief, Who, o'er the stream detach'd with numbers new, Not finding great Masistius, rous'd afresh The storm of onset. Dreadful was the shoc'. Of these, attempting to redeem, of those, Who held the body; but the Attic spears Break in the chests of fiery steeds, which press With violence unyielding, and the ranks In front disarm. The archers have discharg'd Their quivers. Now had Mindarus acquir'd Undying glory, and the Greeks resign'd
The long-contested prize, when threat'ning shouts, Of diff'rent Grecians, pouring from the camp, Alarm the eastern chief. Cleander here
With all Trozenè, Arimnestus there, Diomedon's bold successor in arms, With his Platæans, and the Thespian brave, Alcimedon, assail the Persian flanks. So two hoarse torrents opposite descend From hills, where recent thunder-storms have burst; In the mid-vale the dashing waters meet To overwhelm the peasant's hopes and toil. Myronides and Eschylus in sight,
Each with his formidable phalanx moves; Th' encampment whole is arming. From the fight His mangled cavalry the Persian calls. In eager quest of refuge in their lines Beyond Asopus, through surrounding foes The coursers vault like swimmers, who forsake A found'ring vessel, and with buoyant strength Bound through the surge for safety on the beach.
Triumphant in their camp the Greeks replace Their standards; thither Cimon's gen'rous care Transports Masistius. Eager to behold
A prize so noble, curious throngs on throngs Press in disorder; each his station leaves; Confusion reigns. The gen'ral host to arms Pausanias sternly vigilant commands, And next provides a chariot to display, Throughout th' extensive lines, th' illustrious dead, In magnitude and beauty late the pride Of Nature's study'd workmanship. His limbs The hand of Cimon tenderly compos'd, As would a brother to a brother's corse. Masistius fill'd the chariot; on his knees Statirus held, and water'd with his tears The face majestic, not by death deform'd, Pale, but with features mild, which still retain'd Attractive sweetness to endear the sight.
First on the right through Lacedæmon's range The spectacle is carried; silence there Prevails; the Spartan citizen no sign Of triumph shows, subordinate to law, Which disciplin'd his passions. Tow'rds the left, Through exultation loud of other Greeks, The awful car at length to Attic ranks Brings their own prize, by Aristides met; There silence too, in rev'rence of their chief, Is universal. He prepares to speak; But first the mighty relics he surveys. He feels like Jove, contemplating the pure, The gen'rous, brave Sarpedon, as he lay
In Death's cold arms, when swift th' almighty sire Decreed that Morpheus, gentlest of the gods, Should waft to Lycia's realm the royal clay, From pious friends and subjects to obtain The rites of splendid sepulture. Complete Was now the solemn pause; to list'ning ears Thus Aristides vents his godlike soul:
"Here close your triumph, Grecians, nor provoke The jealous pow'rs who mark for chosen wrath, O'er-weening pride. Though auguring success From this great satrap's fall, revere his clay; Such rev'rence all of mortal mould will need, All soon, or late. If comeliness and strength, If gracious manners, and a mind humane, If worth and wisdom could avoid the grave, You had not seen this tow'r of Asia fall. Yet there is left attainable by man, What may survive the grave; it is the fame Of gen'rous actions; this do you attain.
I in Psittalia's isle this Persian knew Brave Medon's prize; his captive hands we freed; To him our hospitable faith we pledg'd,
Through whom Phœbean Timon was redeem'd, With Haliartus, on Euboea's fields
To signalize their swords.
On Eta's hill In him the daughter of Oïleus found
A spotless guardian. Let his corse and arms, Thy acquisition, Cimon, be resign'd To piety; a herald shall attend
Thy steps; remove him to his native friends. Let Xerxes hear, let fierce Mardonius see, How much barbarians differ from the Greeks." Minerva's tribes, approving, hear the words Of clemency and pity. Cimon mounts The fun'ral car; attentive and compos'd, Like Maia's son commission'd from the skies By his eternal sire, the warrior hears The full instructions of his patron chief. Th' Asopian stream he fords to Asia's tents, Whence issue wailing multitudes, who rend The air with ejulation, while the wheels Before Mardonius stop their solemn roll. He rives his mantle, and defiles with dust His splendid head. Not more the destin'd king Of Judah mourn'd the virtuous heir of Saul, Mow'd down in battle by Philistian strength On Gilboa's heights; nor melted more in grief O'er Absalom's fair locks, too much endear'd To blind parental fondness. From the car Descending, Cimon spake: "Lo! Persian chief, The just Athenian, Aristides, sends These relics, which he honours, to partake Of sepulture, as eastern rites ordain."
"Then art thou fall'n, too confident," exclaims Mardonius, "too unmindful of my love, And anxious warnings! Mithra, veil thy face In clouds! In tears of blood, thou sky, dissolve! Earth groan, and gen'ral nature join in woe! The tallest cedar of the orient groves Lies prostrate-Destiny malign! I brave Thy further malice-Blasted to the root Is all my joy." Here sorrow clos'd his lips. As frozen dead by wintry gusts he stood, Devoid of motion; Mindarus was nigh, Whose interposing prudence thus was heard:
"O chief of nations numberless! who stand Spectators round, and watch thy lightest look, Confine thy anguish; in their sight revere Thyself; regard this messenger benign From Aristides, and thy native sense Of obligation rouse." Mardonius then,
As from a trance: "I hear thee, and approve, My gentle kinsman. This returning car, With purest, gold, and costly vesture pil'd, Shall bear the copious tribute of my thanks To Aristides; whom extoll'd to Heav'n By excellent Masistius oft my soul Hath heard, the righteous by the righteous prais'd." Now Cimon interpos'd: "That man extoll'd Thou dost not, Persian, lib'ral as thou art, Mean to offend; thy presents then withhold. In poverty more glorious than in wealth The wealthiest, Aristides frowns at gold. No costly vestures decorate his frame, Itself divine; the very arms he wears, The sole possession of that spotless man, All ornament reject; he only boasts
Mardonius fix'd on Cimon: "That request, O Greek! is big with danger to my head, Which I will hazard, since the only price Set on the precious relics thou restor'st."
This said, he orders to his tent the corse; There on the clay-cold bosom of his friend Thus plaintive hangs: "Fall'n pillar of my hopes, What is Mardonius, wanting thy support? Thou arm of strength, for ever are unbrac'd Thy nerves! Enlighten'd mind, where prudence dwelt,
Heart purify'd by honour, you have left Mardonius helpless; left him to himself, To his own passions, which thy counsel tam'd! The dang'rous paths of errour I shall tread Without thy guidance! Shame, defeat, and death, Frown in thy wounds ill-boding-yet thy look Not fate itself of gentleness deprives.
By Heaven a world shall mourn thee"-Loud he calls;
Which Mindarus obeys. To him the chief:
"Thou too didst love Masistius-Fly, proclaim A gen'ral lamentation through the camp; Let all Boeotia sound Masistius lost.
O verify'd too clearly, boding dream Of mine, by him so fatally despis'd! See ev'ry head dismantled of its hair, The soldiers, women, eunuchs; of his mane Sce ev'ry steed, the mule, aud camel shorn. O that the echo of our grief might pass The Hellespont to Asia! that her loss Through all her cities, through her vales, and
Beyond the banks of Ganges might be told!"
As Mindarus departs, the Theban chief Approaches Leontiades, who spake:
"If there be one, O gen'ral, can replace Masistius wise, that prodigy is found, Elean Hegesistratus, of seers
The most renown'd. His penetrating mind Can from the victim slain, or mystic flight Of birds, foresee the dark events of time; Invet'rate foe to Sparta, sore with wrongs, He comes thy servant."-"Opportune he comes," Replies Mardonius. "In the rites of Greece Ten hecatombs, before the Sun descends, Shall to Masistius bleed an off'ring high.
I will engage this augur at a price Beyond his wishes; let his skill decide, When to give battle, and avenge my friend. Collect your Grecian artists; instant build A cenotaph in your Dircæan grove, Where that pure fountain trills a mournful note. There shall Masistius in his name survive Among the Greeks; his last remains, embalm'd, Among his fathers shall in Susa rest."
The Theban goes. Statirus next appears; Th' afflicted hero greets the weeping youth: "Ah! poor Statirus! thou hast lost thy lord, I lost my friend, her bulwark Asia lost. The sacred clay to Artamanes bear, Left in Trachiniæ chief. His pious love (Who did not love Masistius?) will convey To distant Sestos his embalm'd remains, Thence o'er the narrow Hellespont, to reach His native Asia, and his father's tomb. How did he fall, Statirus? Did he send To me no counsel from his dying lips?" "These," in a sigh the faithful page began, [cross" Were his last accents. 'Let Mardonius think
The sharpest sword, the weightiest spear and shield." "Ha! must I pass unthankful in the sight Of one, Masistius lov'd?" the chief reply'd. "No," answer'd quick th' Athenian; "from his Take down Leonidas." A stedfast look
How brief are life's enjoyments. Virtue lives Through all eternity. By virtue earn'd Praise too is long-Melissa, grant me thine'." " Commend me to Melissa," starting, spake The son of Gobryas. "From the shameful cross Bid Artamanes in her presence free Leonidas the Spartan. Now perform Another act of duty to thy lord; Despoil my head of all its curling pride; Slight sacrifice to grief-but ev'ry limb, Lopt from this body, and its mangled flesh Shall in the dust be scatter'd, ere I quit My chase of great revenge." Concluding here, He strides impetuous like a stately ram, Lord of the flock new-shorn. His giant guard Enclose him round; th' innumerable host Attend him, all divested of their hair, In howling anguish to an altar huge, By hasty hands constructed. Deep the earth Around is hollow'd, deep is drench'd with blood. Ten hundred sable victims heap the ground. Now gen'ral silence reigns, as o'er the main In winter, when Halcyonè laments Her Ceyx lost, and Eolus, her sire; By pity soften'd, all the air is calm, While she sits brooding on her watry nest. Amidst a cloud of frankincense the priest Of Elis, Hegesistratus, performs The rites of divination; awful thus At length unfolds the mysteries of time: “Hear, all ye nations; great Mardonius, hear; Th' Asopian channel is the line of fate; The host, which passes, falls; success will crown Th' assail'd; th' assailant is to slaughter doom'd." The multitude, discourag'd by the death Of their belov'd Masistius, hear in joy; Not so Mardonius at revenge delay'd. Inaction aggravates his pain; his tent Receives him. Solitary there, like Night Within her cavern, thus he feeds his grief: "Ambition curb; let virtue be thy pride.' So spake Masistius, when we parted last To meet no more-I feel ambition cold, Benumb'd by sorrow- Let Mardonius think, How brief are life's enjoyments;' so thy fate, Dear friend, evinces-Life itself is short; Its joys are shorter; yet the scanty span Adversity can lengthen, till we loathe. If, on the brilliant throne of Xerxes plac'd, I held the orient and Hesperian worlds My vassals, could the millions in my host Compel the adamantine gate of death To render back my friend? O tortur'd heart! Which burn'st with friendship, of thy gen'rous flame Th' inestimable object is no more.
What then is greatness? What th' imperial robe, The diadem and sceptre? Could you fill The void, his endless absence hath produc'd In my sad bosom? Were ye mine how vain The acquisition, which my grief would loathe, And, wak'd by grief, let honour timely shun, Lest from his grave Masistius should arise To shake my pillow with his nightly curse. Not hecatombs on hecatombs of bulls Heap'd on his manes, not the votive hair, Nor fun'ral moan of nations, could avail To moderate his ire; nor all the pow'r Of empires join'd to empires guard my sleep." At length he sinks in slumber, not compos'd, But wanders restless through the wild of dreams.
ERE thus each augur in the diff'rent camps Unmann'd the soldier by religious dread, Euboea's coast Sicinus had regain'd. That peopled island's force of ships and arms Themistocles had muster'd. Oreus held
The ready chief, expecting weighty news From Aristides, which Sicinus swift Imparts. To him Themistocles: "My friend, I ask no more; the assembled host of Greece Hath fix'd Mardonius on th' Asopian verge; A hasty conflict Aristides shuns;
Then shall the blow, I meditate, be struck, Ere thy reverted passage can transmit To him my greetings. Stay and see my oars For infamous Thessalia dash the waves; Her Aleuadian race of tyrants foul, Friends to barbarians, traitors to the Greeks, Shall feel my scourge. Her plenty I will bar Against Mardonius; famine shall invade His tents, and force him to unequal fight."
He gives command; the signal is uprear'd For embarkation. All Eubœa pours Her sons aboard, and loads the groaning decks. From his Cleora Hyacinthus parts, Brave Haliartus from his new-espous'd Acanthè. Lo! each female seeks the beach, Spectatress eager of th' alluring man, Whose artful eye could summon ev'ry grace To fascinate both sexes, and his wiles Arm with enchantment. Beauteous and august Like Cybelè, prime goddess, turret-crown'd, Source of th' ethereal race, his consort lifts Above the rest her countenance sublime. By her own offspring, and the pledges dear Of Aristides, which her hand receiv'd At Salamis, and cherish'd like her own, She stands encircled, her embarking lord Accosting thus: "Unfavourable winds, Or Fortune's frown, I fear not. All the gods Of earth and ocean, who delighted view The virtuous brave, contending for their laws With lawless tyrants, will combine to bless Themistocles and Aristides link'd
In harmony of counsels. See, dear lord, His and thy children interweave their hands; Thy sure success I augur from their smiles." "I from Timothea's," gallantly replies The parting chief. "This union is thy work; Thine be the praise from thankful Greece preserv'd." He said, and lightly to his vessel pass'd; While ev'ry sail was op'ning to the wind.
Euboea, where she fronts the Malian shore, Beneath a promontory's quiet lee Protects the fleet benighted. Here the son Of Neocles aboard his galley calls His pupil Hyacinthus, whom he thus Instructs: "Young hero, since Cleora's love Could not detain thee from the lists of fame, Fame thou shalt win. Thessalia's nearest bounds I from Spercheos in Trachiniæ's bay
Mean to invade. Nicanor and thyself With your Carystian force, Nearchus brave With his Chalcidians, must a distant course To Potidæa take, whose valiant race The winter siege of great Masistius foil'd. Forewarn'd by due intelligence from me, [mouth They will augment your numbers. Through the
Of fam'd Enipeus, Potidæan zeal
Will guide your helms to rich Larissa's walls, Thessalia's helpless capital, whose youth Attend Mardonius. Land, and burn th' abode Of Aleuadian Thorax, who conducts
At Amarantha's suit my old abode;
A virtuous princess from a sickly couch" My care hath rais'd, Sandaucè, in those walls Long resident with me. Two days are past Since Artamanes, governing these tracts,
The foe through Greece. O'er all the region spread; Heard of a navy on Thessalia's coast, Where'er thou seest an Aleuadian roof, The residence of traitors hurl to earth;
The flocks and herds from ev'ry pasture sweep, From ev'ry store th' accumulated grain, Support of Asia's myriads. O! recall Thy late achievements on the bloody fields Of Chalcis, and of Oreus. They, who brav'd Thy native coast, of Demonax the friends, Now in their own Thessalia lie thy spoil; On their wide ruins build thee trophies new." Commission'd thus, the animated youth With each Carystian, each Chalcidic prow, By morning sails. Three days the Attic chief, Skreen'd in a harbour nigh Cenæum's point, Rests on his anchors. So, by thickets hid In fell Hyrcania, nurse of rav'nous broods, The tiger lurks, and meditates unseen A sudden sally on his heedless prey.
And with his force, though slender, took the field To guard Larissa. Your descent unmans The few remaining Persians in the fort; All with Sandaucè and her children flew To my protection; mercy to obtain Became my charge; her terrours will disperse, Soon as she knows Themistocles is nigh."
The army halts. Trachiniæ's gates admit Cecropia's hero, Medon, and the son Of Lygdamis. Sandaucè they approach, Sandaucè late in convalescent charms Fresh as a May-blown rose, by pallid fear Now languid as a lily beat with rain, Till she discovers with transported looks Her Salaminian guardian; then the warmth Of gratitude, redoubling all her bloom, Before him throws her prostrate. To him ran The recollecting children, who embrace
The fourth gay dawn with fresh'ning breezes curls Their benefactor's knees. She thus unfolds
The Malian waters. In barbaric flags The wily chief appareiling his masts Fallacious, ere the horizontal Sun
Couch'd on the ocean, fills with hostile prows The wide Sperchean mouth. Along the vales Innumerable carriages display
The plenty huge for Asia's camp amass'd. Th' encircling mountains all their echoes blend In one continu'd sound with bleating flocks, With bellowing herds, and dissonant uproar Of their conductors; whom Thessalia sent, Whom all the extent of Thracia, and the realm Of Amarantha's lord. Th' affrighted hinds Desert their charge. Trachiniæ's neighb'ring gates With fugitives are throng'd. Lo! Cleon plants His bold Eretrian banners on the strand; The Styrians form; Eudemus bounds ashore, Geræstians follow; then auxiliars new, The subjects late of Demonax-; the troops Of Locrian Medon, Delphian Timon land, Themistocles the last; whose chosen guard Of fifty Attic, fifty Spartan youths, Still sedulous and faithful close the rear.
They reach'd in order'd march Trachinian walls, Whose gates unclos'd. Majestical advanc'd A form rever'd by universal Greece, Prais'd by each tongue, by ev'ry eye admir'd, The Oïlean priestess of th' immortal Nine, The goddess-like Melissa. Medon swift, With Haliartus, met her sacred step. Her name divulg'd from ev'ry station call'd The gazing chiefs, Themistocles the first; Whom, by her brother pointed out to view, She thus address'd: "Themistocles, give ear, And thou, O Medon, whom, a stranger long To my desiring eyes, they see restor❜d. Well may you wonder, that a hostile fort Melissa's hand delivers to your pow'r. There is a Persian worthy to be rank'd Among the first of Grecians. Just, humane, Thy captive, Medon, amply hath discharg'd His price of ransom. Nine revolving moons Beheld Masistius guardian of my hill In purity of rev'rence to my fane, My person, my dependents. I forsook
Her lips, whose tuneful exclamation charms: "O, my protector"—Interposing swift, His ready hand uplifts her from the ground.
"Do not disgrace me, thou excelling fair," He said; "to leave such beauty thus depress'd Would derogate from manhood." She replies:
"Forbear to think my present captive lot Hath humbled thus Sandaucè. No, the weight Of obligation past, my rescu'd babes In Salamis, myself from horrour sav'd, Have bent my thankful knee. No fears debase My bosom now; Themistocles I see, In him a known preserver." Melting by, Melissa, Medon, Haliartus, shed
The tend'rest dews of sympathy. In look Compassionate, but calm, the chief rejoins:
"Suggest thy wishes, princess, and command My full compliance." She these accents sighs: "Ye gen'rous men, what pity is not due To eastern women! Prize, ye Grecian dames, Your envy'd state. When your intrepid lords In arms contend with danger on the plain, You in domestic peace are left behind Among your letter'd progeny, to form Their ductile minds, and exercise your skill In arts of elegance and use. Alas! Our wretched race, in ignorance and sloth By Asia nurtur'd, like a captive train, In wheeling dungeons with our infants clos'd, Must wait th' event of some tremendous hour, Which, unpropitious, leaves us on the field A spoil of war. What myriads of my sex From Greece to distant Hellespont bestrew The ways, and whiten with their bleaching bones The Thracian wilds! Spercheos views the tomb Of Ariana, hapless sister, laid
In foreign mould! My portion of distress You know, benignant guardians, who assuag'd My suff'rings. Then to quit the direful scene, Revisiting my native soil, to rest
Among my children, and instruct their youth, As kind Melissa hath instructed mine, Were sure no wish immoderate or vague. But Artamanes"-Blushing, trembling, here
She paus'd. Melissa takes the word: "Sweet friend,
As this indignity to thee." He said, And, with the aid of Haliartus, free'd The sacred bones; Leonteus, and the prime Of Locris, frame with substituted shields Th' extemporeanous bier. Again the chief: "Leonteus, Haliartus, rest behind; Achieve th' important service, which the son Of Neocles enjoins. The pious charge Be mine of rend'ring to Melissa's care These honour'd relics." Now in measur'd pace The warlike bearers tread; their manly breasts Not long withhold the tribute of their sighs Ingenuous; tears accompany their steps. His sister in Trachiniæ, Medon soon Approaches; glad she hears him, and replies:
Let vice, not virtue blush. Cecropian chief, Her soft attention well that youth deserves, She all his constancy and care. Are pledg'd; th' assent of Asia's king alone Is wanting, which Mardonius hath assur'd To Artamanes, flow'r of Asia's peers. Him, with unequal force, to battle march'd Against thy ranks, which never have been foil'd, She knows, and trembles." Artfully replies Themistocles: "Sandaucè may prevent This danger. Let her messenger convey A kind injunction, that the noble youth, Whose merit I have treasur'd in my breast, May sheath his fruitless weapons, and, return'd To her, aboard my well-appointed keel With her embarking, seek their native soil." The princess hears, and joyfully provides A messenger of trust. Assembling now His captains, thus Themistocles ordains: "Friends of Euboea, soon as Phoebus dawns Your progress bend to Larissæan tow'rs; Your chief is Cleon. Hyacinthus join; To your united force the foe must yield. Save Artamanes; bring him captive back, But not with less humanity than care. Accomplish'd Medon, Haliartus, vers'd
In Eta's neighb'ring wilds, your Locrians plant Among the passes; once secur'd, they leave Us at our leisure to contrive and act. Thee, honour'd seer of Delphi, at my side In this Trachinian station I retain."
By op'ning day each leader on his charge Proceeds. Themistocles inspects the vale, Constrains the peasants from unnumber'd cars Aboard his fleet to lade the golden grain.
Before Thermopyla the Locrian files Appear. From Eta's topmast peak, behold, O'er Medon's bead a vulture wings his flight, Whom to a cross beside the public way Th' Oilean hero's curious eye pursues. "Oh! stay thy rav'nous beak," in anguish loud Cries Haliartus. "Shudder while thou hear'st, Son of Oïleus; on that hideous pile The bones of great Leonidas are hung."
Then Medon's cool, delib'rate mind was shook By agitation, to his nature strange. His spear and buckler to the ground he hurl'd; Before th' illustrious ruins on his knee He sunk, and thus in agony exclaim'd:
"Should this flagitious profanation pass Unpunish'd still, th' existence of the gods Were but a dream. O, long-enduring Jove! Thy own Herculean offspring canst thou see Defac'd by vultures, and the parching wind, Yet wield resistless thunder?-But thy ways Are awfully mysterious; to arraign Thy heaviest doom is blasphemy. Thy will For me reserv'd the merit to redeem These precious relics; penitent I own My rashness; thankful I accept the task.
"O mighty spirit! who didst late inform With ev'ry virtue that disfigur'd frame, With ev'ry kind affection prov'd by me, The last distinguish'd object of thy care, When it forbad me to partake thy fate, The life, thy friendship sav'd, I here devote To vindicate thy manes. Not the wrongs Of gen'ral Greece, not Locris giv'n to flames, Not the subversion of my father's house, E'er with such keen resentment stung my heart,
"Hail! brother, hail! thou chosen by the gods From longer shame to rescue these remains, Which once contain'd whate'er is good and great Among the sons of men. Majestic shade! By unrelenting laws of Dis forbid
To enter, where thy ancestors reside; Who, seed of Jove, to their Elysian joys Expect thee, most illustrious of the race. Amidst thy wand'rings on the banks of Styx, Dost thou recall Melissa's dirge of praise O'er thee, preparing by a glorious death To save thy country? O! unbury'd still, Did not Melissa promise to thy dust Peace in her temple? An atrocious king Hath barr'd awhile th' accomplishment; thy friend, Thy soldier, now will ratify my word. Soon to Lycurgus shall thy spirit pass, To Orpheus, Homer, and th' Ascræan sage, Who shall contend to praise thee in their bow'rs Of amaranth and myrtle, ever young Like thy renown. In Eta's fane these bones, Dear to the Muses, shall repose, till Greece, Amid her future triumphs, hath decreed A tomb and temple to her saviour's fame." This high oblation of pathetic praise, Paid by her holy friend, Sandaucè notes Attentive; seldom from Melissa's eye Was she remote. Her eunuchs she deputes To bring a coffer large of od'rous wood Inlaid with pearl, repository due To such divine remains. In time appears Th' Athenian gen'ral to applaud the deed, While thus the mighty manes he invokes:
"Hear, thou preserver of thy country, hear! Lo! in his palms of Salamis the son Of Neocles salutes thee. From a hand, Which hath already half aveng'd thy death, Accept of decent rites. Thy virtue sav'd A nation; they hereafter shall complete Thy fun'ral honours, and surround thy tomb With trophies equal to thy deathless name."
He ceas'd. Her mantle on the solemn scene Night from her car in dusky folds outspread.
Three mornings pass. Anon Sperchean banks Re-echo shouts of triumph, while the vales Are clad in arms. Lo! Cleon is return'd, Uplifting bloodless ensigns of success, And thus accosts Themistocles: "Thy prize, This Persian lord, receive; our hasty march O'ertook his rear. From Larissaan tow'rs, A recent conquest, Hyacinthus, join'd By Potidæans and Olynthian spears, Was then in sight. The herald I detach'd With fair Sandaucè's message, and thy terms Of peace and safety; Artamanes found
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