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Rollid like a torrent o'er the rest.

Forms in his phalanx each Janizar; He sne for mercy! He dismay'd

Alp at their head; his right arm is bare By wild words of a timid maid !

So is the blade of his scimitar; He, wrong'd by Venice, row to save The khan and the pachas are all at the Her sons devoted to the grave!

post; No—though that cloud' were thunder's The vizier himself at the head of the ho

worst,

When the culverin's signal is fired, then o And charged to crush him --let it burst ! Leave not in Corinth a living one

A priest at her altars, a chief in her hall

A hearth in her mansions, a stone on h He look'd upon it earnestly,

walls. Without an accent of reply;

God and the prophet-Alla Hu! He watch'd it passing; it is flown :

Up to the skies with that wild halloo! Full on his eye the clear moon shone, "İ'here the breach lies for passage, t And thus he spake_"Whate'er my fate,

ladder to scale; I am no changeling—'tis too late:

And your hands on your sabres, and ho The reed in storms may bow and quiver,

should ye fail ? Then rise again ; the tree must shiver.

He who first downs with the red cro What Venice made me, I must be

may crave Her foe in all, save love to thee :

His heart's dearest wish; let him ask But thou art safe: oh, fly with me!”

and have !" He furn’d, but she is gone!

Thus utter'd Coumourgi , the dauntle Nothing is there but the column-stone.

vizier; Hath she sunk in the earth, or melted in air? The reply was the brandish of sabre an He saw not, he knew not; but nothing is

spear,
there.
And the shout of fierce thousands in joyor

ire :--
The night is past, and shines the sun Silence-hark to the signal-fire!
As if that morn were a jocund one.
Lightly and brightly breaks away

As the wolves, that headlong go
The Morning from her mantle gray,
And the Noon will look on a sultry day.

On the stately buffalo, Hark to the trump, and the drum,

Thongh with fiery eyes, and angry roa And the mournful sound of the barbarous And hoofs that stamp, and horns that go

horn,

He tramples on earth, or tosses on hig!

The foremost, who rush on his streng And the flap of the banners, that flit as

but to die : they're borne, And the neigh of the steed, and the mul- Thus against the wall they went,

titude's hum,

Thus the first were backward bent ; And the clash, and the shout, “they come, Many a bosom, sheath'd in brass,

they come!”

Strew'd the earth like broken glass, The horsetails are pluck'd from the ground, The ground whereon they moved no môi

Shiver'd by the shot, that tore From its sheath ; and they furm, and but Even as they fell, in files they lay,

wait for the word.

Like the mower's grass at the close of da Tartar, and Spahi, and Turcoman,

When his work is done on the level Strike your tents, and throng to the van;

plain; Mount ye, spur ye, skirr the plain,

Such was the fall of the foremost slain That the fugitive may flee in vain, When he breaks from the town; and none As the spring-tides, with heary plas!

escape,

From the cliff's invading dash Aged or young, in the Christian shape; Huge fragments, sapp'd by the ceasel While your fellows on foot, in a fiery mass,

flow, Bloodstain the breach through which they Till white and thundering down they

pass.

Like the avalanche's snow The steeds are all bridled, and snort to the On the Alpine vales below :

rein:

Thus at length, outbreathed and worn, Curved is each neck, and flowing each Corinth's sons were downward borne

mane;

By the long and oft renewd White is the foam of their champ on the charge of the Moslem multitude.

bit:

In firmness they stood, and in masses thu The spears are uplifted; the inatches are lit;

fell, The cannon are pointed and ready to roar, Heap'd by the host of the infidel

, And crush the wall they have crnmbled Hand to hand, and foot to foot:

before:

Nothing there, save death, was mate;

saves.

Stroke, and thrust, and flash, and cry Patroclus' spirit less was pleased
Før quarter, or for victory,

Than his, Minotti's son, who died
Mingle there with the volleying thunder, Where Asia's bounds and ours divide.
Which makes the distant cities wonder Buried he lay, where thousands before
How the soguding battle goes,

For thousands of years were inhumed on If with them, or for their foes;

the shore; If they brust mourn, or may rejoice What of them is left, to tell in that annihilating voice,

Where they lie, and how they fell? Which pierces the deep hills through and Not a stone on their turf, nor a bone in through

their graves; With an echo dread and new :

But they live in the verse that immortally lon might have heard it, on that day, O'er Salabis and Megara; (We have heard the hearers say,)

Hark to the Allah shoui! a band Lica ants Piraeus bay.

of the Mussulman bravest and best is at

hand : from the point of encountering blades Their leader's nervous arm is bare, to the hilt,

Swifter to smite, and never to sparefabres and swords with blood were gilt;

Uuclothed to the shoulder it waves then on; Bat the rampart is won, and the spoil Thus in the fight is he ever known: begun,

Others a gaudier garb may show, led all but the after-carnage done. To tempt the spoil of the greedy foe; briller shrieks now mingling come

Many a hand's on a richer hilt, frea within the plunder'd dome:

But none on a steel more ruddily gilt: burk to the haste of flying feet,

Many a loftier turban may wear, That splash in the blood of the slippery Alp is but known by the white arm bare ; street;

Look through the thick of the fight, 'tis But here and there, where 'vantage-ground

there! ainst the fue may still be found,

There is not a standard on that shore
hiperate groups, of twelve or ten, So well advanced the ranks before;
a pause, and turn again-

There is not a banner in Moslem war
With banded backs against the wall, Will lure the Delhis half so far ;
Facely stand, or fighting fall.

It glances like a falling star!
Where'er that mighty arin

The bravest be, or late have been ; There stood an old man-his hairs were There the craven cries for quarter white,

Vainly to the vengeful Tartar;
Bar his veteran arm was full of might: Or the hero, silent lying,
sallantly bore he the brunt of the fray, Scorns to yield a groan in dying;
Le dead before him on that day

Mustering his last feeble blow

| 'Gainst the nearest levellid foe, All be combated unwounded,

Though faint beneath the mutual wound, Daugh retreating, unsurrounded.

Grappling on the gory ground. fara scar of former fight Loried beneath his corslet bright; but of every wound his body bore,

Still the old man stood erect, bach and all had been ta'en before: And Alp's career a moment check’d. Tragh aged he was, so iron of limb,

- Yield thee, Minotti; quarter take, fer of our youth could cope with him; For thine own, thy daughter's sake." Sed the foes, whom he singly kept at bay, Octaoraber'd his thin hairs of silver-gray. fra right to left his sabre swept:

“Never, renegado, never! May an Othman mother wept

Though the life of thy gift would last for bers that were unborn, when dipp'd

weapon first in Moslem gore, Lin his years could count a score.

--Francesca!--Oh my promised bride! De he might have been the sire

Must she too perish by ihy pride?” sa fell that day beneath his ire : fille conless left long years ago,

"She is safe."--"Where? where?"_"In His wrath made many a childless foe;

heaven, Led since the day, when in the strait From whence thy traitor-soul is driven His goly boy had met his fate,

Far from thee, and undefiled.” His parent's iron hand did doom

Grimly then Minotti smiled, More than a human hecatomb.

As he saw Alp staggering bow Il shades by carnage be appeased,

Before his words, as with a blow.

is seen,

ba semicircle lay;

.

ever.

-Oh God! when died she?” – “Yester- Brief breathing-time! the turban'd hos

night

With added ranks and raging boast, Nor weep I for her spirit's flight: Press onwards with such strength and hea None of my pure race shall be

Their numbers balk their own retreat; Slaves to Mahomet and thee

For narrow the way that led to the spot Come on!”—That challenge is in vain- Where still the Christians yielded not ; Alp's already with the slain!

And the foremost, if fearful, may vainly tr While Minotti's words were wreaking Through the massy column to turn and fly More revenge in bitter speaking

They perforce must do or die. Than his falchion's point had found, They die; but, ere their eyes could closeHad the time allowd to wound,

Avengers o'er their bodies rose; From within the neighbouring porch Fresh and furious, fast they fill Of a long defended church,

The ranks unthinn'd, though slaughter Where the last and desperate few

still; Would the failing fight renew,

And faint the weary Christians wax The sharp shot dashid Alp to the ground; Before the still renewid attacks: Ere an eye could view the wound

And now the Othmans gain the gate; That crash d through the brain of the insidel, Still resists its iron weight, Round he spun, and down he fell; And still, all deadly aim'd and hot, A flash like fire within his eyes

From erery crevice comes the shot; Blazed, as he bent no more to rise, From every shatter'd window pour And then eternal darkness sunk

The volleys of the sulphurous shower: Through all the palpitating trunk; But the portal vavering grows and weak Nought of life lest, save a quivering The iron yields, the hinges creakWhere his limbs were slightly shivering: It bends-it falls—and all is o'er; They turn d him on his back; his breast Lost Corinth may resist no more! And brow were staind with gore and

dust, And through his lips the life-blood oozed,

Darkly, sternly, and all alone, From its deep veins lately loosed;

Minotti stood o'er the altar-stone: But in his pulse there was no throb,

Madonna's face upon him shone, Nor on his lips one dying sob;

Painted in heavenly hues above, Sigh, nor word, nor struggling breath

With eyes of light and looks of love; Heralded his way to death ;

And placed upon that holy shrine Ere his very thotght could pray,

To fix our thoughts on things divine, Unaneald he pass'd away,

When pictured there, we kneeling see Without a hope from mercy's aid,

Her, and the Boy-God on her knee, To the last a renegade.

Smiling sweetly on each prayer
To heaven, as if to waft it there.

Still she smiled; even now she smiles. Fearfully the yell arose

Though slaughter streams along her ais! Of his followers, and his foes;

Minotti lifted his aged eye, These in joy, in fury those :

And made the sign of a cross with a sig! Then again in conflict mixing,

Then seized a torch which blazed thereb Clashing swords, and spears transfixing,

And still he stood, whilc, with steel a Interchanged the blow and thrust,

flame, Hurling warriors in the dust.

Inward and onward the Mussulman camı Street by street, and foot by foot, Still Minotti dares dispute

The vaults beneath the mosaic stone The latest portion of the land

Containd the dead of ages gone; Left beneath his high command ;

Their names were on the graven floor, With him, aiding heart and hand, But now illegible with gore; The remnant of his gallant band.

The carved crests, and curious hues Still the church is tenable,

The varied marble's veins diffuse, Whence issued late the fated ball

Were smear'd, and slippery-stain'd, ar That half avenged the city's fall,

strown When Alp, her fierce assailant, fell : With broken swords, and helms o'erthrow Thither bending sternly back,

There were dead above, and the dead belo They leave before a bloody track; Lay cold in many a coffin'd row; And, with their faces to the foe,

You might see them piled in sable state. Dealing wounds with every blow,

By a pale light through a gloomy grate The chicf, and his retreating train, But War had enter'd their dark caves, Join to those within the fane:

And stored along the vaulted graves There they yet may breathe awhile, Her sulphurous treasures, thickly spread Shelter'd by the massy pile.

In masses by the fleshless dead;

Here, throughout the siege, had been Proclaim'd the desperate conflict o'er
The Christians' chiefest magazine; On that too long afflicted shore :
To these a late form'd train now led, Up to the sky like rockets go
Minotti's last and stern resource

All that mingled there below:
Against the foe's o'erwhelming force. Many a tall and goodly man,

Scorch'd and shrivell’d to a span,

When he fell to earth again The foe came on, and few remain

Like a cinder strew'd the plain:
To strive, and those must strive in vain :

Down the ashes shower like rain;
Par lack of further lives, to slake
The thirst of vengeance now awake,

Some fell in the gulf, which received the With barbarous blows they gash the dead,

sprinkles

With a thousand circling wrinkles;
And Toy the already lifeless head,

Some fell on the shore, but far away,
And fell the statues from their niche,
And spoil the shrines of offerings rich,

Scatter'd o'er the isthmus lay;
And from each other's rude hands wrest

Christian or Moslem, which be they? The silver vessels saints had bless'd.

Let their mothers see and say! To the high altar on they go;

When in cradled rest they lay, Oh, but it made a glorious show!

And each nursing mother smiled 0 its table still behold

On the sweet sleep of her child,

Little deem'd she such a day The cop of consecrated gold;

Would rend those tender limbs away.
Mary and deep, a glittering prize,

Not the matrons that them bore
Brightly it sparkles to plunderers' eyes :
That morn it held the holy wine,

Could discern their offspring more ;

That one moment left no trace (egverted by Christ to his blood so divine,

More of human form or face which his worshippers drank at the break of day,

Save a scatter'd scalp or bone: Te shrive their souls ere they join'd in the And down came blazing rafters, strown

Around, and many a falling stone, fray. kill a few drops within it lay;

Deeply dinted in the clay, And round the sacred table glow

All blacken'd there and reeking lay. Tödve lofty lamps, in splendid row,

All the living things that heard Iran the purest metal cast;

That deadly earth-shock disappear'di :
A spoil—the richest, and the last.

The wild birds flew; the wild dogs fled,
And howling left the unburied dead;

The camels from their keepers broke; So near they came, the nearest stretch'd The distant steer forsook the yokeтар

the spoil he almost reach'd, The nearer steed plunged o’er the plain, ben old Minotti's hand

And burst his girth, and tore his rein ; Rashid with the torch the train - The bull-frog's note, from out the marsh,

Deep-mouth'd arose, and doubly harsh ; m. vaults, the shrine, the spoil, the slain, The wolves yell’d on the cavern’a hill, Tar turband victors, the Christian band, Where echo roll'd in thunder still; il that of living or dead remain, The jackal's troop, in gather'd cry, Halid on high with the shiver'd fane, Bay'd from afar complainingly, la we wild roar expired!

With a mix'd and mournful sound, Dk shatter'd town – the walls thrown Like crying babe, and beaten hound: down

With sudden wing, and ruffled breast, The wates a moment backward bent- The eagle left his rocky nest, The hills that shake, although unrent,

And mounted nearer to the sun, bil an earthquake pass'd -

The clouds beneath hin seem'd so dun; Tat thousand shapeless things all driven Their smoke assail'd his startled beak, la cloud and Name athwart the heaven, And made him higher soar and shriek-By that tremendous blast

Thus was Corinth lost and won!

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h fired!

P A R I SI N A.

TO

WHO HAS LONG ADMIRED IS TALENTS AND

VALUED HIS FRIENDSHIP.

the facts on which the story is founded. TI SCROPE BERDMORE DAVJES, ESQ. name of Azo is substituted for Nicholas, THE FOLLOWING POEM IS INSCRIBED BY ONE more metrical.

“Under the reign of Nicholas III. Ferra

was polluted with a domestic tragedy. B January 22, 1816.

the testimony of an attendant, and his ow

observation, the Marquis of Este discovery ADVERTISEMENT.

the incestuous loves of his wife Parisin The following poem is grounded on a and Hugo his bastard-son, a beautiful a circumstance mentioned in Gibbon's "Anti- valiant youth. They were beheaded in 1 quities of the House of Brunswick.”-I am castle by the sentence of a father and hu aware that in modern times the delicacy band, who published his shame, and se or fastidiousness of the reader may deem vived their execution. He was unfortuna such subjects unfit for the purposes of poetry. if they were guilty; if they were inuocer The Greek dramatists, and some of the best he was still more unfortunate; nor is the of our old English writers, were of a differ- any possible situation in which I can si ent opinion: as Alfieri and Schiller have cerely approve the last act of the justice also been, more recently, upon the con- a parent.”_Gibbon's Miscellaneous Won tinent. The following extract will explain vol. III. p. 470.

It is the hour when from the boughs And heedless as the dead are they The nightingale's high note is heard ; Of aught around, above, beneath ; It is the hour when lovers' vows

As if all else had pass'd away, Seem sweet in every whisper'd word ; They only for each other breathe; And gentle winds, and waters near, Their very sighs are full of joy Make music to the lonely ear.

So deep, that did it not decay, Each flower the dews have lightly wet, That happy madness would destroy And in the sky the stars are met,

The hearts which feel its fiery sway: And on the wave is deeper blue,

Of guilt, or peril, do they deem And on the leaf a browner hue,

In that tumultuous tender dream? And in the heaven that clear-obscure, Who that have felt that passion's power So softly dark, and darkly pure,

Or paused, or fear'd in such an hour? Which follows the decline of day,

Or thought how brief such moments la As twilight melts beneath the moon away. But yet, they are already past !

Alas! we must awake before

We know such vision comes no more. But it is not to list to the waterfall That Parisina leaves her hall, And it is not to gaze on the heavenly light With many a lingering look they la That the lady walks in the shadow of night; The spot of guilty gladness past; And if she sits in Este's bower,

And though they hope, and vow, they grie 'Tis not for the sake of its full-blown sower-As if that parting were the last. She listens—but not for the nightingale- The frequent sigh-the long eubrace Though her ear expects as soft a tale. The lip that there would cling for ert There glides a step through the foliage While gleams on Parisina's face

thick,

The Heaven she fears will not forgive h And her cheek grows pale—and her heart As if each calmly conscious star

beats quick, Beheld her frailty from afarThere whispers a voice through the rustling The frequent sigh, the long embrace,

leaves,

Yet binds them to their trysting-place. A moment more—and they shall meet- But it must come, and they must part 'Tis past – her lover's at her feet.

In fearful heaviness of heart,

With all the deep and shuddering chil And what unto them is the world beside. Which follows fast the deeds of ill. With all its change of time and tide? Its living things-its earth and sky

And Hugo is gone to his lonely bed Are nothing to their mind and eye. To covet there another's bride;

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