LEONIDAS.
The sense of honour, and the dread of shame
To swell in Dithyrambus. Undismay'd,
He grappled with his foe, and instant seiz'd
His threat'ning spear, before th' uplifted arm
Could execute the meditated wound.

The weapon burst between their struggling grasp.
Their hold they loosen, bare their shining swords.
With equal swiftness to defend or charge
Each active youth advances and recedes.
Now direct,
On ev'ry side they traverse.

Obliquely now the wheeling blades descend.
Still is the conflict dubious; when the Greek,
Dissembling, points his falchion to the ground,
His arm depressing, as o'ercome by toil:
While with his buckler cautious he repels
The blows, repeated by his active foe.
Greece trembles for her hero. Joy pervades
The ranks of Asia; Hyperanthes strides
Before the line, preparing to receive

At last,

His friend triumphant: while the wary Greek
Calm and defensive bears th' assault.
As by th' incautious fury of his strokes,
The Persian swung his cov'ring shield aside,
The fatal moment Dithyrambus seiz'd.
Light darting forward with his feet outstretch'd,
Between th' unguarded ribs he plung'd his steel.
Affection, grief, and terrour wing the speed
Of Hyperanthes. From his bleeding foe
The Greek retires, not distant, and awaits
The Persian prince. But he with watry cheeks
In speechless anguish clasps his dying friend;
From whose cold lip with interrupted phrase
"O dearest, best of men!
These accents break.
Ten thousand thoughts of gratitude and love
Are struggling in my heart-O'erpow'ring Fate
Denies my voice the utt'rance-O my friend!
O Hyperanthes! Hear my tongue unfold
What, had I liv'd, thou never shouldst have known.
I lov'd thy sister. With despair I lov'd.
Soliciting this honourable doom,

Without regret in Persia's sight and thine
I fall." Th' inexorable hand of Fate
Weighs down his eyelids, and the gloom of death
His fleeting light eternally o'ershades.
Him on Choaspes o'er the blooming verge
A frantic mother shall bewail; shall strew
Her silver tresses in the crystal wave:
While all the shores re-echo to the name
Of Teribazus lost. Th' afflicted prince,
Contemplating in tears the pallid corse,
Vents in these words the bitterness of grief.

"Oh! Teribazus! Oh! my friend, whose loss
I will deplore for ever. Oh! what pow'r,
By me, by thee offended, clos'd thy breast
To Hyperanthes in distrust unkind!

She should, she must have lov'd thee-Now no

more

Thy placid virtues, thy instructive tongue,
Shall drop their sweetness on my secret hours.
But in complaints doth friendship waste the time,
Which to immediate vengeance should be giv'n?"
He ended, rushing furious on the Greek;
Who, while his gallant enemy expir'd,
While Hyperanthes tenderly receiv'd
The last embraces of his gasping friend,
Stood nigh, reclin'd in sadness on his shield,
And in the pride of victory repin'd.

Unmark'd, his foe approach'd. But forward sprung
Diomedon. Before the Thespian youth
Aloft he rais'd his targe, and loudly thus.

BOOK VIII.

In mutual wrath,

"Hold thee, barbarian, from a life more worth
Than thou and Xerxes with his host of slaves."
His words he seconds with his rapid lance.
Soon a tremendous conflict had ensu'd;
But Intaphernes, Mindus, and a crowd
Of Persian lords, advancing, fill the space
Betwixt th' encount'ring chiefs.
With fruitless efforts they attempt the fight.
So rage two balls along th' opposing banks
Of some deep flood, which parts the fruitful mead.
Defiance thunders from their angry mouths
In vain: in vain the furrow'd sod they rend;
Wide rolls the stream, and intercepts the war.

As by malignant fortune if a drop
Of moisture mingles with a burning mass
Of liquid metal, instant show'rs of death
On ev'ry side th' exploding fluid spreads;
So disappointment irritates the flame

Of fierce Platæa's chief, whose vengeance bursts
In wide destruction. Embas, Daucus fall,
Arsæus, Ochus, Mendes, Artias die;
And ten most hardy of th' immortal guard,
To shivers breaking on the Grecian shield
Their gold embellish'd weapons, raise a mound
O'er thy pale body, O in prime destroy'd,
Of Asia's garden once the fairest plant,
Fall'n Teribazus! Thy distracted friend
From this thy temporary tomb is dragg'd
By forceful zeal of satraps to the shore;
Where then the brave Abrocomes arrang'd
The succours new, by Abradates brought,
Orontes and Mazæus. Turning swift,
Abrocomes inform'd his brother thus.

'Strong reinforcement from th' immortal guard Pandates bold to Intaphernes leads,

In charge to harass by perpetual toil
Those Grecians next the mountain. Thou unite
Here the hostile ranks
Less stable seem. Our joint impression try;
To me thy valour.
Let all the weight of battle here impend.
Rouse, Hyperanthes. Give regret to winds.
Who hath not lost a friend this direful day?
Let not our private cares assist the Greeks
Too strong already; or let sorrow act:
Mourn and revenge." These animating words
Send Hyperanthes to the foremost line.
His vengeful ardour leads. The battle joins.

Who stemm'd this tide of onset? Who imbru'd
His shining spear the first in Persian blood?
Eupalamus. Artembares he slew
With Derdas fierce, whom Caucasus had rear'd
On his tempestuous brow, the savage sons
Of violence and rapine. But their doom
Fires Hyperanthes, whose vindictive blade
Arrests the victor in his haughty course.
Beneath the strong Abrocomes o'erwhelm'd,
Melissus swells the number of the dead.
None could Mycena boast of pronder birth,
Than young Melissus, who in silver mail
He in Cirrha's mead,
The line embellish'd.
Where high Parnassus from his double top
O'ershades the Pythian games, the envy'd prize
Of Fame obtain'd. Low sinks his laurell'd head
In death's cold night; and horrid gore deforms
The graceful hair. Impatient to revenge,
Aristobulus strides before the van.
A storm of fury darkens all his brow.
For death
Around he rolls his gloomy eye.
Is Alyattes mark'd, of regal blood,
Deriv'd from Croesus, once imperial lord

Of nations. Him the nymphs of Halys wept;
When, with delusive oracles beguil'd'

By Delphi's god, he pass'd their fatal waves
A mighty empire to dissolve: nor knew

Th' ill-destin'd prince, that envious Fortune watch'd
That direful moment from his hand to wrest
The sceptre of his fathers. In the shade
Of humble life his race on Timolus' brow
Lay hid; till, rous'd to battle, on this field
Sinks Alyattes, and a royal breed
In him extinct for ever. Lycis dies,

For boist'rous war ill-chosen. He was skill'd
To tune the lulling flute, and melt the heart;
Or with his pipe's awak'ning strain allure
The lovely dames of Lydia to the dance,
They on the verdant level graceful mov'd
In vary'd measures; while the cooling breeze
Beneath their swelling garments wanton'd o'er
Their snowy breasts, and smooth Caijster's stream,
Soft-gliding, murmur'd by. The hostile blade
Draws forth his entrails. Prone he falls. Not long
The victor triumphs. From the prostrate corse
Of Lycis while insulting he extracts
The reeking weapon, Hyperanthes' steel
Invades his knee, and cuts the sinewy cords.
The Mycenaeans with uplifted shields,
Corinthians and Phliasians close around
The wounded chieftain. In redoubled rage
The contest glows. Abrocomes incites
Each noble Persian. Each his voice obeys.
Here Abradates, there Mazeus press,
Orontes and Hydarnes. None retire
From toil, or peril. Urg'd on ev'ry side,
Mycena's band to Fortune leave their chief.
Despairing, raging, destitute he stands,
Propt on his spear. His wound forbids retreat.
None, but his brother, Eumenes, abides
The dire extremity. His studded orb
Is held defensive. On his arm the sword
Of Hyperanthes rapidly descends.

Down drops the buckler, and the sever'd hand
Resigns its hold. The unprotected pair
By Asia's hero to the ground are swept;
As to a reaper crimson poppies low'r
Their heads luxuriant on the yellow plain.
From both their breasts the vital currents flow,
And mix their streams. Elate the Persians pour
Their numbers, deep'ning on the foe dismay'd.
The Greeks their station painfully maintain.
This Anaxander saw, whose faithless tongue
His colleague Leontiades bespake.

"The hour is come to serve our Persian friends. Behold, the Greeks are press'd. Let Thebes retire, A bloodless conquest yielding to the king."

This said, he drew his Thebans from their post,
Not with unpunish'd treachery. The lance
Of Abradates gor'd their foul retreat;
Nor knew the Asian chief, that Asia's friends
Before him bled. Meantime, as mighty Jove,
Or he more ancient on the throne of Heav'n,
When from the womb of Chaos dark the world
Emerg'd to birth, where'er he view'd the jar
Of atoms yet discordant and unform'd,
Confusion thence with pow'rful voice dispell'd,
Till light and order universal reign'd;
So from the hill Leonidas survey'd
The various war. He saw the Theban rout;
That Corinth, Phlius, and Mycena look'd
Affrighted backward. Instantly his charge
Is borne by Maron, whom obedience wings,

Precipitating down the sacred cave,

That Sparta's ranks, advancing, should repair
The disunited phalanx. Ere they move,
Dieneces inspires them.

Fame, my friends,

| Calls forth your valour in a signal hour.
For you this glorious crisis she reserv'd
Laconia's splendour to assert. Young man,
Son of Megistias, follow." He conducts [wedg'd
Th' experienc'd troop. They lock their shields, and
In dense arrangement, repossess the void
Left by the faithless Thebans, and repulse
Th' exulting Persians. When with efforts vain
These oft renew'd the contest, and recoil'd,
As oft confounded, with diminish'd ranks;
Lo! Hyperanthes blush'd, repeating late
The words of Artemisia. Learn, O chiefs,
The only means of glory and success.
Unlike the others, whom we newly chas'd,
These are a band, selected from the Greeks,
Perhaps the Spartans, whom we often hear
By Demaratus prais'd. To break their line
In vain we struggle, unarray'd and lax,
Depriv'd of union. Do not we presidę
O'er Asia's armies, and our courage boast,
Our martial art above the vulgar herd?
Let us, ye chiefs, attempt in order'd ranks
To form a troop, and emulate the foe."

They wait not dubious. On the Malian shore
In gloomy depth a column soon is form'd
Of all the nobles, Abradates strong,
Orontes bold, Mazæus, and the might
Of brave Abrocomes with each, who bore
The highest honours, and excell'd in arms;
Themselves the lords of nations, who before
The throne of Xerxes tributary bow'd.
To these succeed a chosen number, drawn
'From Asia's legions, vaunted most in fight;
Who from their king perpetual stipends share;
Who, station'd round the provinces, by force
His tyranny uphold. In ev'ry part

Is Hyperanthes active, ardent seen
Throughout the huge battalion. He adjusts
Their equal range, then cautious, lest on march
Their unaccustom'd order should relax,
Full in the centre of the foremost rank
Orontes plants, committing to his hand
Th' imperial standard; whose expanded folds
Glow'd in the air, presenting to the Sun
The richest dye of Tyre. The royal bird
Amid the gorgeous tincture shone express'd
In high-embroider'd gold. The wary prince
On this conspicuous, leading sign of war,
Commands each satrap, posted in the van,
To fix his eye regardful, to direct
By this alone his even pace and slow,
Retiring, or advancing. So the star,
Chief of the spangles on that fancy'd Bear,
Once an Idæan nymph, and nurse of Jove,
Bright Cynosura to the Boreal pole
Attracts the sailor's eye; when distance hides
The headland signals, and her guiding ray,
New-ris'n, she throws. The hero next appoints,
That ev'ry warrior through the length'ning files,
Observing none, but those before him plac'd,
Shall watch their motions, and their steps pursue.
Nor is th' important thicket next the pass
Forgot. Two thousand of th' immortal guard
That station seize. His orders all perform'd,
Close by the standard he assumes his post.
Intrepid thence he animates his friends.

LEONIDAS.

"Heroic chieftains, whose unconquer'd force
Rebellious Egypt, and the Libyan felt,
Think, what the splendour of your former deeds
From you exacts. Remember, from the great
Illustrious actions are a debt to Fame.
No middle path remains for them to tread,
Whom she hath once ennobled. Lo! this day
By trophies new will signalize your names,
Or in dishonour will for ever cloud."

He said, and vig'rous all to fight proceed.
As, when tempestuous Eurus stems the weight
Of western Neptune, struggling through the straits
Which bound Alcides' labours, here the storm
With rapid wing reverberates the tide;
There the contending surge with furrow'd tops
To mountains swells, and, whelming o'er the beach
On either coast, impells the hoary foam
On Mauritanian and Iberian strands:
Such is the dreadful onset.

Persia keeps

Her foremost ranks unbroken, which are fill'd
By chosen warriors; while the num'rous crowd,
Though still promiscuous pouring from behind,
Give weight and pressure to th' embattled chiefs,
Despising danger. Like the mural strength
Of some proud city, bulwark'd round and arm'd
With rising tow'rs to guard her wealthy stores,
Immoveable, impenetrable stood

Laconia's serry'd phalanx. In their face
Grim Tyranny her threat'ning fetters shakes,
Red Havoc grinds insatiable his jaws.
Greece is behind, entrusting to their swords
Her laws, her freedom, and the sacred urns
Of their forefathers. Present now to thought
Their altars rise, the mansions of their birth,
Whate'er they honour, venerate, and love.

Bright in the Persian van th' exalted lance
Of Hyperanthes flam'd. Beside him press'd
Abrocomes, Hydarnes, and the bulk
Of Abradates terrible in war.
Firm, as a Memphian pyramid, was seen
Dieneces; while Agis close in rank
With Menalippus, and the added strength
Of dauntless Maron, their connected shields
Upheld. Each unrelax'd array maintains
The conflict undecided; nor could Greece
Repel the adverse numbers, nor the weight
Of Asia's band select remove the Greeks.

Swift from Laconia's king, perceiving soon
The Persian's new arrangement, Medon flew,
Who thus the staid Dieneces address'd.

"Leonidas commands the Spartan ranks
To measure back some paces. Soon he deems
The unexperienc'd foes in wild pursuit
Will break their order. Then the charge renew.'
This heard, the signal of retreat is giv'n.
The Spartans seem to yield. The Persians stop.
Astonishment restrains them, and the doubt
Of unexpected victory. Their sloth
Abrocomes awakens. "By the Sun
They fly before us. My victorious friends,
Do you delay to enter Greece? Away,
Rush on intrepid. I already hear

Our horse, our chariots thund'ring on her plains.
I see her temples wrapt in Persian fires."

He spake. In hurry'd violence they roll
Tumultuous forward. All in headlong pace
Disjoin their order, and the line dissolve.
This when the sage Dieneces descries,
The Spartans halt, returning to the charge
With sudden vigour. In a moment pierc'd

BOOK VIII.

By his resistless steel, Orontes falls,

And quits th' imperial banner. This the chief
In triumph waves. The Spartans press the foe.
Close-wedg'd and square, in slow, progressive pace
O'er heaps of mangled carcasses and arms
Invincible they tread. Composing flutes
Each thought, each motion harmonize. No rage
Untunes their souls. The phalanx yet more deep
Of Medon follows; while the lighter bands
Glide by the flanks, and reach the broken foe.
Amid their flight what vengeance from the arm
Of Alpheus falls? O'er all in swift pursuit
His active feet had match'd
Was he renown'd.
The son of Peleus in the dusty course;
But now the wrongs, the long-remember'd wrongs
Of Polydorus animate his strength

With ten-fold vigour. Like th' empurpled Moon,
When in eclipse her silver disk hath lost
The wonted light, his buckler's polish'd face
Is now obscur'd; the figur'd bosses drop
In crimson, spouting from his deathful strokes.
As, when with horrour wing'd, a whirlwind rends
A shatter'd navy; from the ocean cast,
Enormous fragments hide the level beach;
Such as dejected Persia late beheld
On Thessaly's unnavigable strand :
Thus o'er the champaign satraps lay bestrewn
By Alpheus, persevering in pursuit
Beyond the pass. Not Phoebus could inflict
On Niobe more vengeance, when, incens'd
By her maternal arrogance, which scorn'd
Latona's race, he twang'd his ireful bow,
And one by one from youth and beauty hurl'd
Her sons to Pluto; nor severer pangs
That mother felt, than pierc'd the gen'rous soul
Of Hyperanthes, while his noblest friends
On ev'ry side lay gasping. With despair
He still contends. Th' immortals from their stand
Behind th' entangling thicket next the pass
His signal rouses. Ere they clear their way,
Well-caution'd Medon from the close defile
Two thousand Locrians pours. An aspect new
The fight assumes. Through implicated shrubs
Confusion waves each banner. Falchions, spears,
And shields are all encumber'd; till the Greeks
Had forc'd a passage to the yielding foe.
Then Medon's arm is felt. The dreadful boar,
Wide-wasting once the Calydonian fields,
In fury breaking from his gloomy lair,
Rang'd with less havoc through unguarded folds,
Than Medon, sweeping down the glitt'ring files,
So vainly styl❜d immortal. From the cliff
Divine Melissa, and Laconia's king
Enjoy the glories of Oïleus' son.
Fierce Alpheus too, returning from his chase,
Joins in the slaughter. Ev'ry Persian falls.
"Brave Spartan,
To him the Locrian chief.

thanks.

Through thee my purpose is accomplish'd full.
My phalanx here with levell'd rows of spears
Shall guard the shatter'd bushes. Come what may
From Asia's camp, th' assailant, flank'd and driv'n
Down yonder slope, shall perish. Gods of Greece,
You shall behold your fanes profusely deck'd
In splendid off'rings from barbarian spoils,
Won by your free-born supplicants this day."
This said, he forms his ranks. Their threat'ning

Of Dithyrambus and Diomedon,

Who from the hill are wheeling on their flank, Still flash tremendous. To the shore they fly, At once envelop'd by successive bands

Of diff'rent Grecians. From the gulf profound
Perdition here inevitable frowns,

While there, encircled by a grove of spears,
They stand devoted hecatombs to Mars.
Now not a moment's interval delays

Their gen'ral doom; but down the Malian steep
Prone are they hurry'd to th' expanded arms
Of Horrour, rising from the oozy deep,
And grasping all their numbers, as they fall.
The dire confusion like a storm invades
The chafing surge. Whole troops Bellona rolls
In one vast ruin from the craggy ridge.
O'er all their arms, their ensigns, deep-engulf'd,
With hideous roar the waves for ever close.