Than girt around by brazen walls, and gates
Of seven-fold cedar.' Since that hour, my heart
Hath kept its covenant, nor shrunk beneath
The spirits of evil; yet, not so repell'd,
They watch me in my walks, spy out my ways,
And still with nightly whispers vex my soul,
To seek the myrtle thicket. Bolder now,
They speak of duty-of a father's will,
Now first unkind—a father's kingly power,
Tremendous when opposed. My God, they say,
Bids me revere my parent: will He guard
A rebel daughter? Wiser to comply,
Ere force compels me to my happiness,
And to my lover yield that sacrifice
Which else my foe may seize. Oh God! great God!
Of whom I am, and whom I serve alone,
Be Thou my strength in weakness-Thou my guide,
And save me from this hour!" Thus, as she spake,
With naked feet and silent, in the cloud
Of a long mantle wrapt, as one who shuns
The busy eyes and babbling tongues of men,
A warrior enter'd; o'er his helm
The casque was drawn
TO HIERO OF SYRACUSE, VICTOR IN THE HORSE-RACE.
CAN earth, or fire, or liquid air,
With water's sacred stream compare?
Can aught that wealthy tyrants hold
Surpass the lordly blaze of gold?-
Or lives there one, whose restless eye
Would seek along the empty sky,
Beneath the sun's meridian ray,
A warmer star, a purer day ?—
O thou, my soul, whose choral song
Would tell of contests sharp and strong,
Extol not other lists above
The circus of Olympian Jove;
Whence, borne on many a tuneful tongue,
To Saturn's seed the anthem sung,
With harp, and flute, and trumpet's call,
Hath sped to Hiero's festival.—
Over sheep-clad Sicily
Who the righteous sceptre beareth, Every flower of Virtue's tree
Wove in various wreath he weareth.But the bud of Poesy
Is the fairest flower of all;
Which the bards, with social glee,
Strew round Hiero's wealthy hall.—
The harp on yonder pin suspended,
Seize it, boy, for Pisa's sake;
And that good steed's, whose thought will wake
A joy with anxious fondness blended ;
No sounding lash his sleek side rended :—
By Alpheus' brink, with feet of flame,
Self-driven to the goal he tended:
And earn'd the olive wreath of fame
For that dear lord, whose righteous name
The sons of Syracusa tell:-
Who loves the generous courser well:
Belov'd himself by all who dwell
In Pelops' Lydian colony.-
-Of earth-embracing Neptune, he
The darling, when, in days of yore,
All lovely from the cauldron red
By Clotho's spell delivered,
The youth an ivory shoulder bore.—
-Well!—these are tales of mystery!—
And many a darkly-woven lie
With men will easy credence gain;
While truth, calm truth, may speak in vain :
For eloquence, whose honey'd sway
Our frailer mortal wits obey,
Can honour give to actions ill,
And faith to deeds incredible ;-
And bitter blame, and praises high,
Fall truest from posterity.—
But, if we dare the deeds rehearse
Of those that aye endure,
"Twere meet that in such dangerous verse
Our every word were pure.—
Then, son of Tantalus, receive
A plain unvarnish'd lay!—
My song shall elder fables leave,
And of thy parent say,
That, when in heaven a favour'd guest,
He call'd the gods in turn to feast
On Sipylus, his mountain home;
The sovereign of the ocean foam,
-Can mortal form such favour prove?—
Rapt thee on golden car above
To highest house of mighty Jove;
To which, in after day,
Came golden-haired Ganymede,
As bards in ancient story read,
The dark-wing'd eagle's prey.
And when no earthly tongue could tell
The fate of thee, invisible ;
Nor friends, who sought thee wide in vain,
To soothe the weeping mother's pain,
Could bring thy wanderer home again;
Some envious neighbour's spleen,
In distant hints, and darkly, said,
That in the cauldron hissing red,
And on the gods' great table spread,
Thy mangled limbs were seen.—
But who shall tax, I dare not, I,
The blessed gods with gluttony ?—
Full oft the slanderous tongue has felt
By their high wrath the thunder dealt ;-
And sure, if ever mortal head
Heaven's holy watchers honoured,
That head was Lydia's lord.-
Yet, could not mortal heart digest
The wonders of that heavenly feast;
Elate with pride, a thought unblest
Above his nature soar'd.--
And now condemn'd to endless dread,—
(Such is the righteous doom of fate,)
He eyes, above his guilty head,
The shadowy rock's impending weight:
The fourth, with that tormented three
In horrible society!-
For that, in frantic theft,
The nectar cup he reft,
And to his mortal peers in feasting pour'd,
For whom a sin it were
With mortal life to share
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