Imágenes de página
PDF
ePub

Mature in years, for sober wisdom famed, Moved by the speech, Alethes here exclaim'd: "Ye parent Gods! who rule the fate of Troy, Still dwells the Dardan spirit in the boy; When minds like these in striplings thus ye raise,

Yours is the god-like act, be yours the praise;
In gallant youth my fainting hopes revive,
And Hion's wonted glories still survive."
Then, in his warm embrace, the boys he
press'd,

And, quivering, strain'd them to his aged
breast;

With tears the burning cheek of each dew'd.

And, sobbing, thus his first discourse renew'd :

Without thy aid no glory shall be mine,
Without thy dear advice no great design;
Alike, through life esteem'd, thou god-like
boy,

In war my bulwark, and in peace my joy*

To him Euryalus: "No day shall shame
The rising glories, which from this I claim.
Fortune may favour or the skies may frown,
But valour, spite of fate, obtains renown
Yet, ere from hence our eager steps depart
One boon I beg, the nearest to my heart:
be-My mother sprung from Priam's royal line,
Like thine ennobled, hardly less divine;
Nor Troy, nor King Acestes' realms restrain
Her feeble age from dangers of the main;
Alone she came, all selfish fears above,
A bright example of maternal love.
Unknown, the secret enterprize I brave.
Lest grief should bend my parent to the
grave:
From this alone no fond adieus I seek.
No fainting mother's lips have press'd my
cheek;

"What gift, my countrymen, what martial

prize

Can we bestow, which you may not despise? |
Our deities the first, best boon have given,
Internal virtues are the gift of Heaven.
What poor rewards can bless your deeds
on earth,

Doubtless, await such young exalted worth;
Æneas and Ascanius shall combine
To yield applause far, far surpassing mine."
Iulus then: "By all the powers above!
By those Penates who my country love;
By hoary Vesta's sacred fane, I swear,
My hopes are all in you, ye generous pair!
Restore my father to my grateful sight,
And all my sorrows yield to one delight.
Nisus! two silver goblets are thine own,
Saved from Arisba's stately domes
thrown;

[ocr errors]

By gloomy Night, and thy right hand, I vow
Her parting-tears would shake my purpose

now.

Do thou, my prince, her failing age sustait,
In thee her much-loved child may live again;
Her dying hours with pious conduct bless,
Assist her wants, relieve her fond distress:
So dear a hope must all my soul inflame,
To rise in glory, or to fall in fame."
o'er-Struck with a filial care, so deeply felt.
In tears at once the Trojan warriors melt;
Faster than all, Iulus' eyes o'erflow;
Such love was his, and such had been his woe.
"All thou hast ask'd, receive," the Prince
replied,

My sire secured them on that fatal day,
Nor left such bowls an Argive robber's prey.
Two massy tripods also shall be thine,
Two talents polish'd from the glittering
mine;

An ancient cup which Tyrian Dido gave,
While yet our vessels press'd the Punic

[blocks in formation]

Nor this alone, but many a gift beside;
To cheer thy mother's years shall be my aim,
Creusa's style but wanting to the daine;
Fortune an adverse wayward course may rus,
But bless'd thy mother in so dear a son.
Now, by my life, my Sire's most sacred oath,
To thee I pledge my full, my firmest troth,
All the rewards which once to thee were
vow'd,

If thou shouldst fall, on her shall be
bestow'd."

Thus spoke the weeping Prince, then forth
to view

A gleaming falchion from the sheath he
drew;
Lycaon's utmost skill had graced the steel,
For friends to envy and for foes to feel.
A tawny hide, the Moorish lion's spoil,
Slain midst the forest, in the hunter's toil,
Mnestheus,to guard the elder youth bestows,
And old Alethes' casque defends his brows;
Arm'd, thence they go, while all the as-
sembled train,
To aid their cause, implore the gods in vain;
More than a boy, in wisdom and in grace,

[blocks in formation]

prepare,

[blocks in formation]

The reeking weapon bears alternate stains; Thro' wine and blood, commingling as they flow,

Now, where Messapus dwelt they bend The feeble spirit seeks the shades below. Whose fires emit a faint and trembling ray; their way, Unwatch'd, unheeded, on the herbage feed; There unconfined behold each grazing steed, Too flush'd with carnage, and with conBrave Nisus here arrests his comrade's arm,

quest warm :

With me the conquest and the labour share;
Here lies our path; lest any hand arise,
Watch thou, while many a dreaming chief-Hence let us haste, the dangerous path
tain dies;

is past,

I'll carve our passage through the heedless Full foes enough, to-night, have breathed

foe, blow."

their last;

And clear thy road, with many a deadly Soon will the day those eastern clouds

His whispering accents then the youth

represt,

And pierced proud Rhamnes through his panting breast;

Stretch'd at his ease, th' incautious king reposed,

Debauch,and not fatigue,his eyes had closed; To Turnus dear, a prophet and a prince, His omens more than augur's skill evince, But he, who thus foretold the fate of all, Could not avert his own untimely fall. Next Remus' armour-bearer, hapless, fell, And three unhappy slaves the carnage swell: The charioteer along his courser's sides Expires, the steel his sever'd neck divides; And,last,his Lord is number'd with the dead, Bounding convulsive, flies the gasping head; From the swollen veins the blackening torrents pour, Stain'd is the couch and earth with clotting gore.

Young Lamyrus and Lamus next expire, And gay Serranus, fill'd with youthful fire; Half the long night in childish games was past,

Lull'd by the potent grape, he slept at last; Ah! happier far, had he the morn survey'd, And, till Aurora's dawn, his skill display'd.

In slaughter'd folds, the keepers lost in sleep, His hungry fangs a Lion thus may steep; 'Mid the sad flock,at dead of night, he prowls, With murder glutted, and in carnage rolls; Insatiate still, through teeming herds he

roams,

In seas of gore the lordly tyrant foams.

adorn,

Now let us speed, nor tempt the rising morn.”

What silver arms, with various arts

emboss'd,

They leave regardless! yet, one glittering prize

What bowls and mantles, in confusion toss'd,

Attracts the younger hero's wandering eyes; The gilded harness Rhamnes' coursers felt, The gems which stud the monarch's golden belt;

This from the pallid corse was quickly torn, Th' exulting boy the studded girdle wears, Once by a line of former chieftains worn. Messapus' helm his head, in triumph, bears ; Then from the tents their cautious steps they bend,

To seek the vale, where safer paths extend.

[blocks in formation]

Mature in years. for sober wisdom famed, Without thy aid no glory shall be mi Moved by the speech. Alethes here exclaim'd: Without thy dear advice no great de "Ye parent Gods! who rule the fate of Troy, Alike, through life esteem`d, thou god Still dwells the Dardan spirit in the boy; boy, When minds like these in striplings thus In war my bulwark, and in peace my ye raise.

Yours is the god-like act, be yours the praise;
In gallant youth my fainting hopes revive,
And Hion's wonted glories still survive."
Then, in his warm embrace, the boys he
press'd,

And, quivering, strain'd them to his aged
breast;

With tears the burning cheek of each be

dew'd.

And, sobbing, thus his first discourse renew'd :

“What gift, my countrymen, what martial
prize

Can we bestow, which you may not despise?
Our deities the first, best boon have given,
Internal virtues are the gift of Heaven.
What poor rewards can bless your deeds
on earth,

Doubtless, await such young exalted worth;
Æneas and Ascanius shall combine
To yield applause far, far surpassing mine."
Iulus then: "By all the powers above!
By those Penates who my country love;
By hoary Vesta's sacred fane, I swear,
My hopes are all in you, ye generous pair!
Restore my father to my grateful sight,
And all my sorrows yield to one delight.
Nisus! two silver goblets are thine own,
Saved from Arisba's stately domes
thrown;

To him Euryalus: “No day shall
The rising glories, which from thisl
Fortune may favour or the skies may
But valour, spite of fate, obtains i
Yet, ere from hence our eager steps
One boon I beg, the nearest to my
My mother sprung from Priam's ro
Like thine ennobled, hardly less d
Nor Troy, nor King Acestes' realms
Her feeble age from dangers of th
Alone she came, all selfish fears a
A bright example of maternal lov
Unknown, the secret enterprize I
Lest grief should bend my paren
grave:
From this alone no fond adieus I
No fainting mother's lips have pi
cheek;

By gloomy Night, and thy right ha
Her parting-tears would shake m

now.

Do thou, my prince, her failing a In thee her much-loved child mayl Her dying hours with pious cont Assist her wants, relieve her fon So dear a hope must all my soul To rise in glory, or to fall in fi o'er-Struck with a filial care, so dee In tears at once the Trojan wart Faster than all, Iulus' eyes o'erf Such love was his,and such had be "All thou hast ask'd, receive,"

My sire secured them on that fatal day,
Nor left such bowls an Argive robber's prey.
Two massy tripods also shall be thine,
Two talents polish'd from the glittering
mine;

An ancient cup which Tyrian Dido gave,
While yet our vessels press'd the Punic

wave:

But, when the hostile chiefs at length
bow down,
When great Æneas wears Hesperia's crown,
The casque, the buckler, and the fiery steed,
Which Turnus guides with more than
mortal speed,

Are thine; no envious lot shall then be cast,
I pledge my word, irrevocably pass'd;
Nay more, twelve slaves and twice six
captive dames,
To soothe thy softer hours with amorous
flames,
And all the realms which now the Latins
sway,

The labours of to-night shall well repay.
But thou, my generous youth, whose tender
years

Are near my own, whose worth my heart

reveres,

Henceforth, affection sweetly thus begun,
Shall join our bosoms and our souls in one;

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

My native soil! beloved before,
Now dearer, as my peaceful home,

RANSLATION FROM THE MEDEA OF Ne'er may I quit thy rocky shore,

EURIPIDES.

VHEN fierce conflicting passions urge
The breast, where love is wont to glow,
What mind can stem the stormy surge,
Which rolls the tide of human woe?
he hope of praise, the dread of shame,
Can rouse the tortured breast no more;
The wild desire, the guilty flame,
Absorbs each wish it felt before.

But if affection gently thrills
The soul, by purer dreams possest,
The pleasing balm of mortal ills,
In love can soothe the aching breast;
f thus, thou com'st in gentle guise,
Fair Venus! from thy native heaven,
What heart, unfeeling, would despise
The sweetest boon the Gods have given?

But never from thy golden bow

May I beneath the shaft expire, Whose creeping venom, sure and slow,

A hapless, banish'd wretch to roam; This very day, this very hour,

May I resign this fleeting breath, Nor quit my silent, humble bower; A doom, to me, far worse than death.

Have I not heard the exile's sigh?

And seen the exile's silent tear? Through distant climes condemn'd to fly, A pensive, weary wanderer here; Ah! hapless dame! no sire bewails, No friend thy wretched fate deplores, No kindred voice with rapture hails Thy steps, within a stranger's doors.

Perish the fiend! whose iron heart,

To fair affection's truth unknown, Bids her he fondly loved depart,

Unpitied, helpless, and alone; Who ne'er unlocks, with silver key,

The milder treasures of his soul; May such a friend be far from me, And Ocean's storms between us roll!

FUGITIVE PIECES.

THOUGHTS SUGGESTED BY A COL-1

LEGE EXAMINATION.

HIGH in the midst,surrounded by his peers, MAGNUS his ample front sublime uprears; Placed on his chair of state, he seems a God, While Sophs and Freshmen tremble at his nod; As all around sit wrapt in speechless gloom, His voice, in thunder, shakes the sounding dome, Denouncing dire reproach to luckless fools, Unskill'd to plod in mathematic rules.

Happy the youth! in Euclid's axioms tried, Though little versed in any art beside; Who, scarcely skill'd an English line to pen, Scans Attic metres with a critic's ken. What! though he knows not how his fathers

bled,

When civil discord piled the fields with dead; When Edward bade his conquering bands advance,

Or Henry trampled on the crest of France; Though, marv'ling at the name of Magna Charta,

Yet, well he recollects the laws of Sparta; Can tell what edicts sage Lycurgus made,

"Stand, stragglers! stand! why early thus | He sobs, he dies,-the troop, in wild amaze, Unconscious whence the death, with horror

in arms?

From whence? to whom?" ile meets with no reply,

Trusting the covert of the night, they fly; The thicket's depth, with hurried pace, they tread,

While round the wood the hostile squadron spread.

With brakes entangled, scarce a path between, Dreary and dark appears the sylvan scene; Euryalus his heavy spoils impede, The boughs and winding turns his steps mislead;

But Nisus scours along the forest's maze, To where Latinus' steeds in safety graze, Then backward o'er the plain his eyes extend,

On every side they seek his absent friend. "O God! my boy," he cries, "of me bereft, In what impending perils art thou left!" Listening he runs-above the waving trees, Tumultuous voices swell the passing breeze; The war-cry rises, thundering hoofs around Wake the dark echoes of the trembling ground; Again he turns-of footsteps hears the noise, The sound elates the sight his hope destroys;

The hapless boy a ruffian train surround, While lengthening shades his weary way confound;

Him, with loud shouts, the furious knights

pursue,

Struggling in vain, a captive to the crew What can his friend 'gainst thronging numbers dare?

Ah! must he rush,his comrade's fate to share!
What force, what aid, what stratagem essay,
Back to redeem the Latian spoiler's prey!
His life a votive ransom nobly give,
Or die with him for whom he wish'd to live!
Poising with strength his lifted lance on
high,

On Luna's orb he cast his phrenzied eye:
"Goddess serene, transcending every star!
Queen of the sky! whose beams are seen afar;
By night, Heaven owns thy sway, by day,
the grove;
When, as chaste Dian, here thou deignst

[ocr errors]

to rove;

gaze;

While pale they stare, thro' Tagus' temples

riven, A second shaft with equal force is driven; Fierce Volscens rolls around his lowering eyes,

Veil'd by the night, secure the Trojan lies Burning with wrath, he view'd his soldien fall;

"Thou youth accurst! thy life shall pay for all." Quick from the sheath his flaming glave he drew

And, raging, on the boy defenceless few Nisus no more the blackening shade conceals, Forth, forth he starts, and all his love reveals; Aghast, confused, his fears to madness rise, And pour these accents, shrieking as he flies: "Me, me, your vengeance hurl on me alone, Here sheathe the steel, my blood is all your own;

Ye starry Spheres! thou conscious Heaven attest!

He could not-durst not-lo! the guile

confest!

All, all was mine—his early fate suspend, He only loved too well his hapless friend; Spare, spare, ye chiefs! from him your rage remove.

His fault was friendship, all his crime wa love."

He pray'd in vain, the dark assassin's sword Pierced the fair side, the snowy bosom gored, Lowly to earth inclines his plume-clad crest, And sanguine torrents mantle o'er his breast: As some young rose, whose blossom scents

the air. Languid in death, expires beneath the share; Or crimson poppy, sinking with the shower, Declining gently, falls a fading flower; Thus, sweetly drooping, bends his lovely head,

And lingering Beauty hovers round the dead.

But fiery Nisus stems the battle's tide. Revenge his leader, and Despair his guide, Volscens he seeks, amidst the gathering bost, Volscens must soon appease his comrade's ghost; Steel, flashing, pours on steel, foe crowd on foe,

blow;

If e'er myself or sire have sought to grace Rage nerves his arm, Fate gleams in every
Thine altars with the produce of the chace;
Speed, speed, my dart, to pierce yon vaunt- In vain, beneath unnumber'd wounds he

ing crowd,

bleeds,

heeds;

To free my friend, and scatter far the proud." Nor wounds, nor death, distracted Nisus
Thus having said, the hissing dart he flung;
Through parted shades the hurtling weapon

[blocks in formation]

In viewless circles wheel'd his falchion flies, Nor quits the Hero's grasp, till Volscens dies Deep in his throat its end the weapon found, The tyrant's soul fled groaning through

the wound.

« AnteriorContinuar »