For long and weary was the way
The hordes had march'd that burning day.
2. Above them, on the sky of June,
Broad as a buckler, glow'd the moon,
Flooding with glory vale and hill;
In silver sprang the mountain rill,
The weeping shrub in silver bent;
A pile of silver stood the tent:
All soundless, sweet tranquillity,
All beauty, hill, and tent, and tree.
3. There came a sound-'twas like the gush
When night winds shake the rose's bush;
There came a sound-'twas like the flow
Of rivers swell'd with melting snow;
There came a sound-'twas like the tread
Of wolves along the valley's bed;
There came a sound-'twas like the roar
Of ocean on its winter shore.
4. "Death to the Turk !" uprose the yell; On rolled the charge-a thunder peal: The Tartan arrows fell like rain,
They clank'd on helm, on mail, on chain;
In blood, in hate, in death, were twin'd
Savage and Greek, mad, bleeding, blind;
And still on flank, on front, and rear,
Rag'd, Constantine, thy thirstiest spear!
5. Brassy and pale, a type of doom,
Labor'd the moon, through deep'ning gloom;
Down plung'd her orb-'twas pitchy night :-
Now Turkman, turn thy reins for flight!
On rush'd their thousands through the dark;
But in their camp a ruddy spark,
Like an uncertain meteor, reel'd:
Thy hand, brave king, that firebrand wheel'd!
6. Wild burst the burning element
O'er man and courser, flag and tent;
And through the blaze the Greeks outsprang
Like tigers, bloody, foot and fang,
With dagger's stab and falchion's sweep,
Delving the stunn'd and staggering heap,
Till lay the slave by chief and Khan,
And all was gore that once was man.
7. There's wailing on the Euxine shoreHer chivalry shall ride no more.
There's wailing on thy hills, Altai,
For chiefs-the Grecian vultures' prey!
But Bosphorus, thy silver wave
Hears shouts for the returning brave-
The bravest of her kingly line,
For there comes glorious Constantine.
Morning Meditations.
1. IN sleep's serene oblivion laid,
I've safely pass'd the silent night;
Again I see the breaking shade,
Again behold the morning light.
2 New born I bless the waking hour;
Once more, with awe, rejoice to be;
My conscious soul resumes her power,
And soars, my guardian God, to thee.
3. O guide me through the various maze
My doubtful feet are doom'd to tread;
And spread thy shield's protecting blaze,
Where dangers press around my head.
4. A deeper shade shall soon impend-
A deeper sleep my eyes oppress:
Yet then thy strength shall still defend;
Thy goodness still delight to bless.
5. That deeper shade shall break away;
That deeper sleep shall leave mine eyes;
Thy light shall give eternal day;
Thy love, the rapture of the skies.
SECTION VII.
Hymn to the Stars.
1. Ay, there ye shine, and there have shone, In one eternal 'hour of prime,'
Each rolling burningly, alone,
Through boundless space and countless time.
Ay, there ye shine-the golden dews
That lave the realms by seraphs trod,
There, through yon echoing vault, diffuse
The song of choral worlds to God.
2. Ye visible spirits! bright as erst
Young Eden's birthnight saw ye shine,
On all her flowers and fountains first,
Yet sparkling from the hand divine;
Yes, bright as then ye smil'd, to catch
The music of a sphere so fair,
Ye hold your high immortal watch,
And gird your God's pavilion there.
3. Gold frets to dust,-yet there ye are;
Time rots the diamond,—there ye roll
In primal light, as if each star
Enshrined an everlasting soul!
And does it not-since your bright throngs
One all-enlight'ning Spirit own,
Prais'd there by pure, sidereal tongues,
Eternal, glorious, blest, alone?
4. Could man but see what ye have seen,
Unfold awhile the shrouded past,
From all that is, to what has been,
The glance how rich! the range how vast! The birth of time, the rise, the fall
Of empires, myriads, ages flown,
Thrones, cities, tongues, arts, worships,—all
The things whose echoes are not gone.
5. Ye saw rapt Zoroaster send
His soul into your mystic reign; Ye saw th' adoring Sabian bend
The living hills his mighty fane!— Beneath his blue and beaming sky,
He worshipp'd at your lofty shrine,
And deem'd he saw, with gifted eye,
The Godhead in his works divine.
6. And there ye shine, as if to mock
The children of a mortal sire.
The storm, the bolt, the earthquake's shock
The red volcano's cataract fire,
Drought, famine, plague, and blood, and flame,
All nature's ills-and life's worse woes
Are nought to you;-ye smile the same,
And scorn alike their dawn and close.
7. Ay, there ye roll-emblems sublime
Of him whose spirit o'er us moves,
Beyond the clouds of grief and crime,
Still shining on the world he loves:-
Nor is one scene to mortals given,
That more divides the soul and sod,
Than yon proud heraldry of heaven-
Yon burning blazonry of God.
Address to the Mummy, in Belzoni's Exhibition, London. 1. AND thou hast walk'd about (how strange a story!) In Thebes' streets three thousand years ago, When the Memnonium was in all its glory, And time had not begun to overthrow Those temples, palaces, and piles stupendous, Of which the very ruins are tremendous.
2. Speak! for thou long enough hast acted Dummy,
Thou hast a tongue-come, let us hear its tune;
Thou'rt standing on thy legs, above ground, Mummy!
Revisiting the glimpses of the moon;
Not like thin ghosts, and disembodied creatures,
But with thy bones and flesh, and limbs and features.
3. Tell us for doubtless thou canst recollect-
To whom should we assign the Sphinx's fame?
Was Cheops or Cephrenes architect
Of either Pyramid that bears his name?
Is Pompey's pillar really a misnomer?
Had Thebes a hundred gates, as sung by Homer?
4. Perhaps thou wert a Mason, and forbidden
By oath to tell the mysteries of thy trade;
Then say what secret melody was hidden
In Memnon's statue, which at sunrise play'd?
Perhaps thou wert a Priest-if so, my struggles
Are vain ;-Egyptian priests ne'er owned their juggle
5. Perchance that very hand, now pinion'd flat,
Has hob-a-nobb'd with Pharaoh, glass to glass;
Or dropp'd a half-penny in Homer's hat,
Or doff'd thine own to let Queen Dido pass,
Or held, by Solomon's own invitation,
A torch at the great Temple's dedication.
6. Since first thy form was in this box extended,
We have, above ground, seen some strange mutations;
The Roman empire has begun and ended;
New worlds have risen-we have lost old nations; And countless kings have into dust been humbled, While not a fragment of thy flesh has crumbled.
7. Didst thou not hear the pother o'er thy head When the great Persian conqueror, Cambyses,
March'd armies o'er thy tomb with thundering tread,
O'erthrew Osiris, Orus, Apis, Isis,
And shook the Pyramids with fear and wonder,
When the gigantic Memnon fell asunder?
8. If the tomb's secrets may not be confess'd,
The nature of thy private life unfold:-
A heart has throbb'd beneath that leathern breast,
And tears adown that dusky cheek have rolled :-
Have children climb'd 'those knees, and kissed that face?
What was thy name and station, age, and race?
9. Statue of flesh-immortal of the dead!
Imperishable type of evanescence!
Posthumous man, who quitt'st thy narrow bed,
And standest undecayed within our presence, Thou wilt hear nothing till the Judgment morning, When the great trump shall thrill thee with its warning 10. Why should this worthless tegument endure, If its undying guest be lost forever?
O let us keep the soul embalmed and pure
In living virtue; that when both must sever, Although corruption may our frame consume, Th' immortal spirit in the skies may bloom.
1. Mov'd by a strange mysterious power,
That hastes along the rapid hour,
I touch the deep ton'd string;
E'en now I see his wither'd face,
Beneath yon tower's mouldering base,
Where mossy vestments cling.
2. Dark rolled his cheerless eye around,
Severe his grisly visage frown'd,---
No locks his head array'd,-
He grasp❜d a hero's antique bust,
The marble crumbled into dust,
And sunk amidst the shade.
3. Malignant triumph filled his eyes,
"See, hapless mortals, see," he cries,
'How vain your idle schemes!
Beneath my grasp, the fairest form
Dissolves and mingles with the worm;
Thus vanish mortal dreams.
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