The tottering frame of reason yet sustain;
Nor let this total ruin whirl my brain.
In vain the cords and axes were prepared,
For now th' audacious seas insult the yard;
High o'er the ship they throw a horrid shade,
And o'er her burst in terrible cascade :
Uplifted on the surge, to heaven she flies,
Her shatter'd top half buried in the skies;
Then headlong plunging thunders on the ground :
Earth groans! air trembles! and the deeps resound!
Her giant bulk the dread concussion feels,
And, quivering with the wound, in torment, reels.
So reels, convulsed with agonizing throes,
The bleeding bull beneath the murd'rer's blows.
Again she plunges! hark! a second shock
Tears her strong bottom on the marble rock!
Down on the vale of death, with dismal cries,
The fated victims shuddering roll their eyes
In wild despair; while yet another stroke,
With deep convulsion rends the solid oak!
Till, like the mine, in whose infernal cell
The lurking demons of destruction dwell,
At length asunder torn, her frame divides!
And crashing, spreads in ruin o'er the tides.
Oh, were it mine with tuneful Maro's art To wake to sympathy the feeling heart;
Like him the smooth and mournful verse to dress
In all the pomp of exquisite distress!
Then, too severely taught by cruel fate
To share in all the perils I relate,
Then might I, with unrivall'd strains, deplore
Th' impervious horrors of a leeward shore.
As o'er the surge the stooping main-mast hung, Still on the rigging thirty seamen clung: Some, struggling, on a broken crag were cast, And there by oozy tangles grappled fast; Awhile they bore th' o'erwhelming billows' rage, Unequal combat with their fate to wage; Till all benumb'd, and feeble, they forego Their slippery hold, and sink to shades below : Some, from the main yard-arm impetuous thrown On marble ridges, die without a groan : Three with Palemon on their skill depend, And from the wreck on oars and rafts descend; Now on the mountain-wave on high they ride, Then downward plunge beneath th' involving tide; Till one, who seems in agony to strive, The whirling breakers heave on shore alive ; The rest a speedier end of anguish knew, And prest the stony beach, a lifeless crew!
FROM GLOVER'S POEM OF LEONIDAS.
AMID the van of Persia was a youth,
Nam'd Teribazus; not for golden stores,
Not for wide pastures, travers'd o'er by herds,
By fleece-abounding sheep, or gen'rous steeds,
Nor yet for pow'r, nor splendid honours, fam'd.
Rich was his mind in every art divine;
Through every path of science had he walk'd,
The votary of wisdom. In the years
When tender down invests the ruddy cheek,
He with the Magi turn'd the hallow'd page
Of Zoroastres. Then his tow'ring thoughts
High on the plumes of contemplation soar'd:
He, from the lofty Babylonian fane,
With learned Chaldæans trac'd the heav'nly sphere;
- There number'd o'er the vivid fires which gleam
On night's bespangled bosom. Nor unheard
Were Indian sages from sequester'd bow'rs,
While on the banks of Ganges they disclos'd
The pow'rs of nature, whether in the woods,
The fruitful glebe, or flow'r, the healing plant,
The limpid waters, or the ambient air,
Or in the purer element of fire.
The realm of old Sesostris next he view'd,
Mysterious Ægypt, with her hidden rites
Of Isis and Osiris. Last he sought
Th' Ionian Greeks, from Athens sprung; nor pass'd
Miletus by, which once in rapture heard
The tongue of Thales; nor Priene's walls,
Where wisdom dwelt with Bias; nor the seat
Of Pittacus, revered on Lesbian shores.
Th' enlighten'd youth to Susa now return'd, Place of his birth. His merit soon was dear To Hyperanthes. It was now the time That discontent and murmur on the banks Of Nile were loud and threat'ning. Chembes there The only faithful stood, a potent lord, Whom Xerxes held by promis'd nuptial ties With his own blood. To this Ægyptian prince Bright Ariana was the destin'd spouse, From the same bed with Hyperanthes born. Among her guards was Teribazus nam'd By that fond brother, tender of her weal.
Th' Ægyptian boundaries they gain. They hear Of insurrection, of the Pharian tribes
In arms, and Chembes in the tumult slain.
They pitch their tents, at midnight are assail'd,
Surpris'd, their leaders massacred, the slaves
Of Arianą captives borne away,
Her own pavilion forc'd, her person seiz'd
By ruffian hands; when timely, to redeem
Her and th' invaded camp from further spoil,
Flies Teribazus with a rally'd band,
Swift on her chariot seats the royal fair,
Nor waits the dawn. Of all her menial train
None but three female slaves are left. Her guide,
Her comforter and guardian, fate provides
In him, distinguish'd by his worth alone,
No prince, nor satrap, now the single chief
Of her surviving guard. Of regal birth,
But with excelling graces in her soul,
Unlike an eastern princess, she inclines
To his consoling, his instructive tongue,
An humbled ear. Amid the converse sweet,
Her charms, her mind, her virtues, he explores,
Admiring. Soon his admiration chang'd
To love; nor loves he sooner, than despairs.
From morn till ev'n her passing wheels he guards
Back to Euphrates. Often, as she mounts,
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