With gore is tarnish'd. Pale around are seen All faint, all ghastly from repeated wounds Her bleeding soldiers. Brandishing her sword, To them she points, to Xerxes thus she speaks. "Behold these mangled Carians, who have spent Their vita! current in the king's defence, Ev'n in his sight; while Medes and Cissians fled, By these protected, whom Argestes saw Pursu'd by slaughter to thy very camp, Yet left unhelp'd to perish. Ruling sire, Let Horomazes be thy name, or Jove, To thee appealing, of the king I claim
A day for justice. Monarch, to my arm Give him a prey. Let Artemisia's truth Chastise his treason." With an eye submiss, A mein obsequious, and a soothing tone To cheat the king, to moderate her ire Argestes utters these fallacious words.
"May Horomazes leave the fiend at large To blast my earthly happiness, confine Amid the horrours of his own abode My ghost hereafter, if the sacred charge Of Xerxes' person was not my restraint, My sole restraint! To him our all is due, Our all how trifling with his safety weigh'd! His preservation I prefer to fame,
And bright occasion for immortal deeds Forego in duty. Else my helpful sword, Fair heroine of Asia, hadst thou seen Among the foremost blazing. Lo! the king A royal present will on thee bestow, Perfumes and precious unguents on the dead, A golden wreath to each survivor brave."
Aw'd by her spirit, by the flatt'rers spell Deluded, languid through dismay and shame At his defeat, the monarch for a time
Sat mute, at length unlock'd his falt'ring lips. "Thou hear'st, great princess. Rest content. I ratify. Yet further, I proclaim [His words Thee of my train first counsellor and chief."
"O eagle-ey'd discernment in the king! O wisdom equal to his boundless power!" The purpled sycophant exclaims. "Thou seest Her matchless talents. Wanting her, thy fleet, The floating bulwark of our hopes, laments, Foil'd in her absence, in her conduct safe. Thy penetrating sight directs the field; There let her worth be hazarded no more."
Thy words are wise," the blinded prince rejoins.
"Return, brave Carian, to thy naval charge." Thus to remove her from the royal ear Malicious guile prevails. Redoubled rage Swells in her bosom. Demaratus sees, And calms the storm by rend'ring up his charge To her maternal hand. Her son belov'd Dispels the furies. Then the Spartan thus.
"O Artemisia, of the king's command Be thou observant. To thy slaughter'd friends Immediate care, far other than revenge, Is due. The ravens gather. From his nest Among those clifts the eagle's rapid flight Denotes his scent of carnage. Thou, a Greek, Well know'st the duty sacred to the dead. Depart; thy guide is piety. Collect, For honourable sepulchres prepare Those bodies, mark'd with honourable wounds. I will assist thee. Xerxes will entrust
To my command a chosen guard of horse." As oft, when storms in summer have o'ercast
The night with double darkness, only pierc'd By Heav'n's blue fire, while thunder shakes the pole, The orient Sun, diffusing genial warmth, Refines the troubled air; the blast is mute; Death-pointed flames disperse; and placid Jove Looks down in smiles: so prudence from the lips Of Demaratus, by his tone, his mien,
His aspect strength'ning smooth persuasion's flow, Compos'd her spirit. She with him departs. The king assigns a thousand horse to guard Th' illustrious exile and heroic dame.
The Grecian commanders after the pursuit retire for refreshment to a cave in the side of mount Eta. Demophilus returns to the camp; Diomedon remains in the cave: while Dithyrambus, discovering a passage through it, ascends to the temple of the Muses. After a long discourse with Melissa, the daughter of Oïleus, she entrusts him with a soleinn message to Leonidas. Dithyrambus deputes this charge to Megistias, the augur. Leonidas, recalling the forces first engaged, sends down a fresh body. Diomedon and Dithyrambus are permitted on their own request to continue in the field with the Platæans. By the advice of Diomedon the Grecians advance to the broadest part of Thermopyla, where they form a line of twenty in depth, consisting of the Platans, Mantineans, Tegæans, Thebans, Corinthians, Phliasians, and Mycenæans. The Spartans compose a second line in a narrower part. Behind them are placed the light armed troops under Alpheus, and further back a phalanx of Locrians under Medon, the son of Oïleus. Dieneces commands the whole.
Now Dithyrambus and Platea's chief, Their former post attaining, had rejoin'd Demophilus. Recumbent on his shield Phraortes, gasping there, attracts their sight. To him in pity Thespia's gallant youth Approaching, thus his gen'rous soul express'd.
"Liv'st thou, brave Persian? By propitious Jove, From whom the pleasing stream of mercy flows Through mortal bosoms, less my soul rejoic'd, When fortune bless'd with victory my arm, Than now to raise thee from this field of death." His languid eyes the dying prince unclos'd, Then with expiring voice. "Vain man, forbear To proffer me, what soon thyself must crave. The day is quite extinguish'd in these orbs. One moment fate allows me to disdain Thy mercy, Grecian. Now I yield to death." This effort made, the haughty spirit fled. So shoots a meteor's transitory gleam Through nitrous folds of black nocturnal clouds, Then dissipates for ever. O'er the corse His rev'rend face Demophilus inclin'd,
Pois'd on his lance, and thus address'd the slain.
"Alas! how glorious were that bleeding breast, Had Justice brac'd the buckler on thy arm, And to preserve a people bade thee die. Who now shall mourn thee? Thy ungrateful king Will soon forget thy worth. Thy native laud May raise an empty monument, but feel No public sorrow. Thy recorded name Shall wake among thy countrymen no sighs What to them avail'd For their lost hero. Thy might, thy dauntless spirit? Not to guard Their wives, their offspring from th' oppressor's [hand; But to extend oppression didst thou fall, Perhaps with inboru virtues in thy soul, Which, but thy froward destiny forbade,
By freedom cherish'd, might have bless'd mankind. All-bounteous Nature, thy impartial laws To no selected race of men confine The sense of glory, fortitude, and all The nobler passions, which exalt the mind, And render life illustrious. These thou plant'st In ev'ry soil. But freedom, like the Sun, Must warm the gen'rous seeds. By her alone They bloom, they flourish; while oppression blast The tender virtues: hence a spurious growth, False honour, savage valour taint the soul, And wild ambition: hence rapacious pow'r The ravag'd Earth unpeoples, and the brave, A feast for dogs, th' ensanguin'd field bestrew." He said. Around the venerable man
The warriors throng'd attentive. Conquest hush'd Its joyful transports. O'er the horrid field, Rude scene so late of tumult, all was calm. So, when the song of Thracian Orpheus drew To Hebrus' margin from their dreary seats The savage breed, which Hamus, wrapp'd in clouds, Pangæus cold, and Rhodopean snows
In blood and discord nurs'd, the soothing strain Flow'd with enchantment through the ravish'd ear, Their fierceness melted, and, amaz'd, they learn'd The sacred laws of justice, which the bard Mix'd with the music of his heav'nly string.
Meantime th' Arcadians with inverted arms And banners, sad and solemn on their shields The giant limbs of Clonius bore along To spread a gen'ral woe. The noble corse, Dire spectacle of carnage, passing by To those last honours, which the dead partake, Struck Dithyrambus. Swift his melted eye Review'd Phraortes on the rock supine; Then on the sage Demophilus he look'd Inteut, and spake. "My heart retains thy words. This hour may witness, how rapacious pow'r The Earth unpeoples. Clonius is no more. But he, by Greece lamented, will acquire A signal tomb. This gallant Persian, crush'd Beneath my fortune, bath'd in blood still warm, May lie forgotten by his thankless king; et not by me neglected shall remain naked corse." The good old man replies. "My gen'rous child, deserving that success Thy arm hath gain'd! When vital breath is fled, Our friends, our foes are equal dust. Both claim The fun'ral passage to that future seat Of being, where no enmity revives. There Greek and Persian will together quaff Ir amaranthine bow'rs the cup of bliss Immortal. Him, thy valour slew on Earth, In that bless'd region thou mayst find a friend." This said, the ready Thespians he commands To lift Phraortes from his bed of death, VOL. XVII.
| Th' empurpled rock. Outstretch'd on targets broad, Sustain'd by hands late hostile, now humane, He follows Clonius to the fun'ral pyre.
A cave not distant from the Phocian wall Through Eta's cloven side had Nature form'd In spacious windings. This in moss she clad; O'er half the entrance downward from the roots She hung the shaggy trunks of branching firs, To Heav'n's hot ray impervious. Near the mouth Relucent laurels spread before the Sun A broad and vivid foliage. High above, The hill was darken'd by a solemn shade, Diffus'd from ancient cedars. To this cave Diomedon, Demophilus resort,
And Thespia's youth. A deep recess appears, Cool as the azure grot where Thetis sleeps Beneath the vaulted ocean. Whisper'd sounds Of waters, trilling from the riven stone To feed a fountain on the rocky floor, In purest streams o'erflowing to the sea, Allure the warriors, hot with toil and thirst, To this retreat serene. Against the sides Their disencumber'd hands repose their shields; The helms they loosen from their glowing cheeks; Propp'd on their spears they rest: when Agis-brings From Lacedæmon's leader these commands. "Leonidas recalls you from your toils, You have reap'd The first bright harvest on the field of fame. Our eyes in wonder from the Phocian wall On your unequall'd deeds incessant gaz'd." "Go, Agis, say To whom Platæa's chief. To Lacedæmon's ruler, that, untir'd, Diomedon can yet exalt his spear, Nor feels the armour heavy on his limbs. Then shall I quit the contest? Ere he sinks, Shall not this early Sun again behold The slaves of Xerxes tremble at my lance, 66 My friend, my Should they adventure on a fresh assault?" To him the Thespian youth.
To noble actions, since thy gen'rous heart Intent on fame disdains to rest, O grant, I too thy glorious labours may partake, May learn once more to imitate thy deeds. Thou, gentlest Agis, Sparta's king entreat Not to command us from the field of war." "Yes, persevering heroes," he reply'd, “I will return, will Sparta's king entreat Not to command you from the field of war." "O friend, Then interpos'd Demophilus. Who leadst to conquest brave Platæa's sons; Thou too, lov'd offspring of the dearest man, Who dost restore a brother to my eyes; My soul your magnanimity applauds: But, O reflect, that unabating toil Subdues the mightiest. Valour will repine, When the weak hand obeys the heart no more. Yet I, declining through the weight of years, Will not assign a measure to your strength. If still you find your vigour undecay'd, Stay and augment your glory. So, when time Casts from your whiten'd heads the helm aside; When in the temples your enfeebled arms Have hung their consecrated shields, the land Which gave you life, in her defence employ'd, Shall then by honours, doubled on your age, Requite the gen'rous labours of your prime."
So spake the senior, and forsook the cave. But from the fount Diomedon receives
Th' o'erflowing waters in his concave helm, Addressing thus the genius of the stream. "Whoe'er thou art, divinity unstain'd Of this fair fountain, till unsparing Mars
Pervading, rives the surface to enlarge
The long-imprison'd flame. Ascending soon, He sees, he stands abash'd, then rev'rent kneels. An aged temple with insculptur'd forms
Heap'd carnage round thee, bounteous are thy Of Jove's harmonious daughters, and a train
To me, who ill repay thee. I again
Thy silver-gleaming current must pollute, [slime." Which, mix'd with gore, shall tinge the Malian He said, and lifted in his brimming casque The bright, refreshing moisture. Thus repairs The spotted panther to Hydaspes' side, Or eastern Indus, feasted on the blood
Of some torn deer, which nigh his cruel grasp Had roam'd, unheeding, in the secret shade; Rapacious o'er the humid brink he stoops, And in the pure and fluid crystal cools His reeking jaws. Meantime the Thespian's eye Roves round the vaulted space; when sudden Of music, utter'd by melodious harps, And melting voices, distant, but in tones By distance soften'd, while the Echoes sigh'd In lulling replication, fill the vault With harmony. In admiration mute, With nerves unbrac'd by rapture, he, entranc'd, Stands like an eagle, when his parting plumes The balm of sleep relaxes, and his wings Fall from his languid side. Platæa's chief, Observing, rous'd the warrior. "Son of Mars, Shall music's softness from thy bosom steal The sense of glory? From his neighb'ring camp Perhaps the Persian sends fresh nations down. Soon in bright steel Thermopyla will blaze. Awake. Accustom'd to the clang of arms, Intent on vengeance for invaded Greece, My ear, my spirit in this hour admit No new sensation, nor a change of thought." The Thespian, starting from oblivious sloth Of ravishment and wonder, quick reply'd. "These sounds were more than human. Hark! Again!
Of nine bright virgins, round their priestess rang'd, Who stood in awful majesty, receive His unexpected feet. The song is hush'd. The measur'd movement on the lyric chord In faint vibration dies. The priestess sage, Whose elevated port and aspect rose To more than mortal dignity, her lyre Consigning graceful to attendant hands, Looks with reproof. The loose, uncover'd hair Shades his inclining forehead; while a flush Of modest crimson dyes his youthful cheek. Her pensive visage softens to a smile
On worth so blooming, which she thus accosts. "I should reprove thee, inadvertent youth, Who through the sole access by Nature left To this pure mansion, with intruding steps Dost interrupt our lays. But rise. Thy sword Perhaps embellish'd that triumphant scene, Which wak'd these harps to celebrating notes. What is the impress on thy warlike shield?" "A golden eagle on my shield I bear," Still bending low, he answers. She pursues. "Art thou possessor of that glorious orb, By me distinguish'd in the late defeat Of Asia, driv'n before thee? Speak thy name. Who is thy sire? Where lies thy native seat? Com'st thou for glory to this fatal spot, Or from barbarian violence to guard A parent's age, a spouse, and tender babes, Who call thee father?" Humbly he again. "I am of Thespia, Dithyrambus nam'd, The son of Harmatides. Snatch'd by fate, He to his brother, and my second sire, Demophilus, consign'd me. Thespia's sons By him are led. His dictates I obey, Him to resemble strive. No infant voice Calls me a father. To the nuptial vow I am a stranger, and among the Greeks The least entitled to thy partial praise." "None more entitled," interpos'd the dame. Deserving hero! thy demeanour speaks, It justifies the fame, so widely spread, Of Harmatides' heir. O grace and pride Of that fair city, which the Muses love, Thee an accepted visitant I hail
O honour'd friend, no adverse banner streams In sight. No shout proclaims the Persian freed From his late terrour. Deeper let us plunge In this mysterious dwelling of the nymphs, Whose voices charm its gloom." In smiles rejoin'd" Diomedon." I see thy soul enthrall'd. Me thou wouldst rank among th' unletter'd rout Of yon barbarians, should I press thy stay. Time favours too. Till Agis be return'd, We cannot act. Indulge thy eager search. Here will I wait, a centinel unmov'd,
To watch thy coming." In exploring haste Th' impatient Thespian penetrates the cave. He finds it bounded by a steep ascent Of rugged steps; where down the hollow rock A modulation clear, distinct, and slow In movement solemn from a lyric string, Dissolves the stagnant air to sweet accord With these sonorous lays. "Celestial maids! While, from our cliffs contemplating the war, We celebrate our heroes, O impart Orphean magic to the pious strain!
That from the mountain we may call the groves, Swift motion through these marble fragments To overleap the high Etæan ridge, [breathe And crush the fell invaders of our peace." The animated hero upward springs Light, as a kindled vapour, which, confin'd In subterranean cavities, at length
In this their ancient temple. Thou shalt view Their sacred haunts." Descending from the dome, She thus pursues. "First know, my youthful hours Were exercis'd in knowledge. Homer's Muse To daily meditation won my soul, With my young spirit mix'd undying sparks Of her own rapture. By a father sage Conducted, cities, manners, men I saw, Their institutes and customs. I return'd. The voice of Locris call'd me to sustain The holy function here. Now throw thy sight Across that meadow, whose enliven'd blades Wave in the breeze, and glisten in the Sun Behind the hoary fane. My bleating train Are nourish'd there, a spot of plenty, spar'd From this surrounding wilderness. Remark That fluid mirror, edg'd by shrubs and flow'rs, Shrubs of my culture, flow'rs by Iris dress'd. Nor pass that smiling concave in the hill, Whose pointed crags are soften'd to the sight
By figs and grapes." She pauses; while around His eye, delighted, roves, in more delight Soon to the spot returning, where she stood A deity in semblance, o'er the place Presiding awful, as Minerva wise, August like Juno, like Diana pure,
But not more pure than fair. The beauteous lake, The pines wide-branching, falls of water clear, The multifarious glow on Flora's lap
Lose all attraction, as her gracious lips Resume their tale.
"In solitude remote
Here I have dwelt contemplative, serene. Oft through the rocks responsive to iny lyre, Oft to th' Amphictyons in assembly full, When at this shrine their annual vows they pay, In measur'd declamation I repeat
The praise of Greece, her liberty and laws. From me the hinds, who tend their wand'ring goats In these rude purlieus, modulate their pipes To smoother cadence. Justice from my tongue Dissentions calm, which ev'n in deserts rend Th' unquiet heart of man. Now furious war My careful thoughts engages, which delight To help the free, th' oppressor to confound. Thy feet auspicious fortune hither brings. in thee a noble messenger I find. Go, in these words Leonidas address. Melissa, priestess of the tuneful Nine, By their behests invites thy honour'd feet To her divine abode. Thee, first of Greeks, To conference of high import she calls."
Th' obedient Thespian down the holy cave Returns. His swiftness suddenly prevents His friend's impatience, who salutes him thus. "Let thy adventure be hereafter told. Look yonder. Fresh battalions from the camp File through the Phocian barrier to construct Another phalanx, moving tow'r of war, Which scorns the strength of Asia. Let us arm; That, ready station'd in the glorious van, We may secure permission from the king There to continue, and renew the fight."
That instant brings Megistias near the grot. To Sparta's phalanx his paternal hand Was leading Menalippus. Not unheard By Dithyrambus in their slow approach, The father warns a young and lib'ral mind. "Sprung from a distant boundary of Greece, A foreigner in Sparta, cherish'd there, Instructed, honour'd, nor unworthy held To fight for Lacedæmon in her line Of discipline and valour, lo! my son, The hour is come to prove thy gen'rous heart: That in thy hand, not ill-entrusted, shine The spear and buckler to maintain the cause Of thy protectress. Let thy mind recall Leonidas. On yonder bulwark plac'd, He overlooks the battle; he discerns The bold and fearful. May the gods I serve, Grant me to hear Leonidas approve My son! No other boon my age implores." The augur paus'd. The animated cheek Of Menalippus glows. His eager look Demands the fight. This struck the tender sire, Who then with moisten'd eyes. "Remember too, A father sees thy danger. Oh! my child, To me thy honour, as to thee, is dear; Yet court not death. By ev'ry filial tie, By all my fondness, all my cares I sue! Amid the conflict, or the warm pursuit
Still by the wise Dieneces abide.
His prudent valour knows th' unerring paths Of glory. He admits thee to his side. He will direct thy ardour. Go"-They part. Megistias, turning, is accosted thus By Dithyrambus. "Venerable seer, So may that son, whose merit I esteem, Whose precious head in peril I would die To guard, return in triumph to thy breast, As thou deliver'st to Laconia's king
A high and solemn message. While anew The line is forming, from th' embattled field I must not stray, uncall'd. A sacred charge Through hallow'd lips will best approach the king."
The Acarnanian in suspense remains And silence, Dithyrambus quick relates Melissa's words, describes the holy grot, Then quits th' instructed augur, and attends Diomedon's loud call. That fervid chief Was reassuming his distinguish'd arms, Which, as a splendid recompense, he bore From grateful Athens, for achievements bold; When he with brave Miltiades redeem'd Her domes from Asian flames. The sculptur'd helm Enclos'd his manly temples. From on high A four-fold plumage nodded; while beneath A golden dragon with effulgent scales, Itself the crest, shot terrour. On his arm He brac'd his buckler. Bord'ring on the rim, Gorgonian serpents twin'd. Within, the form Of Pallas, martial goddess, was emboss'd. Low, as her feet, the graceful tunic flow'd. Betwixt two griffins on her helmet sat
A sphynx with wings expanded; while the face Of dire Medusa on her breast-plate frown'd. One hand supports a javelin, which confounds The pride of kings. The other leads along A blooming virgin, Victory, whose brow A wreath encircles. Laurels she presents; But from her shoulders all her plumes were shorn, In favour'd Athens ever now to rest.
This dread of Asia on his mighty arm
Diomedon uprear'd. He snatch'd his lance,
Then spake to Dithyrambus. "See, my friend, Alone of all the Grecians, who sustain'd
The former onset, inexhausted stand Platæa's sons. They well may keep the field, Who with unslacken'd nerves endur'd that day, Which saw ten myriads of barbarians driv'n Back to their ships, and Athens left secure. Charge in our line. Amid the foremost rank Thy valour shall be plac'd to share command, And ev'ry honour with Platæa's chief."
He said no more, but tow'rds the Grecian van Impetuous, ardent strode. Nor slow behind The pride of Thespia, Dithyrambus mov'd Like youthful Hermes in celestial arms; When lightly graceful with his feather'd feet Along Scamander's flow'ry verge he pass'd To aid th' incens'd divinities of Greece Against the Phrygian tow'rs. Their eager haste Soon brings the heroes to th' embattling ranks, Whom thus the brave Diomedon exhorts.
"Not to contend, but vanquish, are ye come. Here in the blood of fugitives your spears Shall, unoppos'd, be stain'd. My valiant friends, But chief, ye men of Sparta, view that space, Where from the Malian gulf more distant rise Th' Etean rocks, and less confine the straits.
There if we range, extending wide our front, An ampler scope to havoc will be giv'n."
To him Dieneces. "Platæan friend, Well dost thou counsel. On that widening ground Close to the mountain place thy vet'ran files. Proportion'd numbers from thy right shall stretch Quite to the shore in phalanx deep like thine. The Spartans wedg'd in this contracted part Will I contain. Behind me Alpheus waits With lighter bodies. Further back the line Of Locris forms a strong reserve." He said. The diffrent bands, confiding in his skill, Move on successive. The Platæans first Against the hill are station'd. In their van Is Dithyrambus rank'd. Triumphant joy Distends their bosoms, sparkles in their eyes.
"Bless'd be the great Diomedon," they shout, "Who brings another hero to our line. Hail! Dithyrambus. Hail! illustrious youth. Had tender age permitted, thou hadst gain'd An early palm at Marathon." His post
He takes. His gladness blushes on his cheek Amid the foremost rank. Around him crowd The long-try'd warriors. Their unnumber'd scars Discov'ring, they in ample phrase recount Their various dangers. He their wounds surveys In veneration, nor disdains to hear The oft-repeated tale. From Sparta's king Return'd, the gracious Agis these address'd. "Leonidas salutes Platæa's chief
And Dithyrambus. To your swords he grants A further effort with Platæa's band, If yet by toil unconquer'd-but I see, That all, unyielding, court the promis'd fight. Hail! glorious veterans. This signal day May your victorious arms augment the wreaths Around your venerable heads, and grace Thermopyle with Marathonian fame." Meantime advance
This said, he hastens back.
The Mantinean, Diophantus brave,
Then Hegesander, Tegea's dauntless chief, Who near Diomedon in equal range
Erect their standards. Next the Thebans form. Alemæon, bold Eupalamus succeed
With their Corinthian and Phliasian bands. Last on the Malian shore Mycena's youth Aristobulus draws. From Eta's side Down to the bay in well-connected length Each gleaming rank contains a hundred spears, While twenty bucklers ev'ry file condense. A sure support, Dieneces behind Arrays the Spartans. Godlike Agis here, There Menalippus by their leader stand. Two bulwarks. Breathing ardour in the rear, The words of Alpheus fan the growing flame Of expectation through his light-arm'd force; While Polydorus present in his thoughts To vengeance sharpens his indignant soul.
No foe is seen. No distant shout is heard. This pause of action Dithyrambus chose. The solemn scene on Eta to his friend He open'd large; portray'd Melissa's form, Reveal'd her mandate; when Platea's chief. "Such elevation of a female mind Bespeaks Melissa worthy to obtain The conference she asks. This wondrous dame Amid her hymns conceives some lofty thought To make these slaves, who loiter in their camp, Dread ev'n our women. But, my gentle friend, Say, Dithyrambus, whom the liquid spell
Of song enchants, should I reproach the gods," Who form'd me cold to music's pleasing pow'r ? Or should I thank them, that the soft'ning charm Of sound or numbers ne'er dissolv'd my soul? Yet I confess thy valour breaks that charm Which may enrapture, not unman thy breast." To whom his friend. "Doth he, whose lays record The woes of Priam, and the Grecian fame, Doth he dissolve thy spirit? Yet he flows In all the sweetness harmony can breathe." "No, by the gods," Diomedon rejoins. "I feel that mighty Muse. I see the car Of fierce Achilles, see th' encumber'd wheels O'er heroes driv'n, and clotted with their gore. Another too demands my soul's esteem, Brave Eschylus of Athens. I have seen His Muse begirt by furies, while she swell'd Her tragic numbers. Him in equal rage His country's foes o'erwhelming I beheld At Marathon. If Phoebus would diffuse Such fire through ev'ry bard, the tuneful band Might in themselves find heroes for their songs. But, son of Harmatides, lift thine eye
To yonder point, remotest in the bay. Those seeming.clouds, which o'er the billows fleet Successive round the jutting land, are sails. Th' Athenian pendant hastens to salute Leonidas. O Eschylus, my friend, First in the train of Phœbus and of Mars, Be thou on board! Swift-bounding o'er the waves, Come and be witness to heroic deeds! Brace thy strong harp with loftier-sounding chords To celebrate this battle! Fall, who may; But if they fall with honour, let their names Round festive goblets in thy numbers ring, And joy, not grief, accompany the song." Conversing thus, their courage they beguil'd, Which else, impatient of inactive hours, At long-suspended glory had repin'd.
Megistias delivers Melissa's message to Leonidas, Medon, her brother, conducts him to the tem ple. She furnishes Leonidas with the means of executing a design he had premeditated to annoy the enemy. They are joined by a body of mariners under the command of Æschylus, a celebrated poet and warrior among the Athenians. Leonidas takes the necessary measures; and, observing from a summit of Eta the motions of the Persian army, expects another attack: this is renewed with great violence by Hyperanthes, Abrocomes, and the principal Persian leaders at the head of some chosen troops.
MEGISTIAS, urging to unwonted speed His aged steps, by Dithyrambus charg'd With sage Melissa's words, had now rejoin'd The king of Lacedæmon. At his side Was Maron posted, watchful to receive His high injunctions. In the rear they stood Behind two thousand Locrians, deep-array'd
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