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Ambitiou nerved young Allan's hand,
My laboring soul, with anxious thought oppress’d, Exulting demons wing'd his dart :
Abhors this station of inglorious rest; While Envy waved her burning brand,
The love of fame with this can ill accord, And pour'd her venom round his heart. Be 't mine to seek for glory with my sword.
Seest thou yon camp, with torches twinkling dim, Swift is the shaft from Allan's bow;
Where drunken slumbers wrap each lazy limb? Whose streaming life-blood stains his side ? Where confidence and ease the watch disdain, Dark Oscar's sable crest is low,
And drowsy Silence holds her sable reign ? The dart has drunk his vital tide.
Then hear my thought :- In deep and sullen grief
Our troops and leaders mourn their absent chief: And Mora's eye could Allan move,
Now could the gifts and promised prize bo thine, She bade his wounded pride rebel;
(The deed, the danger, and the fame be mine,) Alas! that eyes which beam'd with love Were this decreed, beneath yon rising mound, Should urge the soul to deeds of hell.
Methinks, an easy path perchance were found :
Which pass d, I speed my way to Pallas' walls, Lo! seest thou not a lonely tomb
And lead Æneas from Evauder's halls."
With equal ardor fired, and warlike joy,
His glowing friend address'd the Dardan boy: Far, distant far, the noble grave
“ 'These deeds, my Nisus, shalt thou dare alone ?
Must all the fame, the peril, be thine owu?
Am I by thee despised, and left afar,
As one unfit to share the toils of war? For they were stain'd with kindred blood.
Not thus bis son the great Opheltes taught;
Not thus my sire in Argive combats fought; What minstrel gray, what hoary bard,
Not thus, when Ilion fell by heavenly hate, Shall Allan's deeds on harp-strings raise?
I track d Eneas through the walks of fate : The song is glory's chief reward,
Thou know'st my deeds, my breast devoid of fear, But who can strike a murderer's praise ? And hostile life-drops dim my gory spear.
Here is a soul with hope immortal burns, Unstrung, untouch'd, the harp must stand,
Avd life, ignoble life, for glory sporns. No miustrel dare the theme awake;
Fame, fame is cheaply earn’d by fleeting breath : Guilt would benumb his palsied hand,
The price of honor is the sleep of death.”
Then Nisus,—“Calm thy bosom's fond alarms, Shall sound his glories high in air:
Thy heart beats fiercely to the diu of arms. A dying father's bitter curse,
More dear thy worth and valor than my own, A brother's death-groan echoes there
I swear by him who fills Olympus' throne !
Live thou, such beauties I would fain preserve, THE EPISODE OF NISUS AND EURYALUS, Thy budding years a lengthen'd term deserve.
When humbled in the dust, let some one be, A PARAPIIRASE FROM THE ÆNEID, LIB. IX.
Whose gentle eyes will shed one tear for me; Nists, the guardian of the portal, stood,
Whose manly arm may snatch me back by force,
Or wealth redeem from foes my captive corse ; Eager to gild his arms with hostile blood;
Or, if my destiny these last deny,
If in the spoiler's power my ashes lie, pour his arrows through th' einbattled field:
Thy pious care may raise a simple tomb, From Ida torn, he left his sylvan cave,
To mark thy love, and signalize my doom. And sought a foreign home, a distant grave.
Why should thy doting wretched mother weep To watch the movements of the Daunian host,
Her only boy, reclined in endless sleep? With him Euryalus sustains the post;
Who, for thy sake, the tempest e fury dared, No lovelier mien adoru'd the ranks of Troy,
Who, for thy sake, war's deadly peril shared ; And beardless bloom yet graced the gallant boy ; Who braved what woman never bruved before, Though few the seasons of bis youthful life,
And left her native for the Latian shore." As yet a novice in the martial strife, 'Twas his, with beauty, valor's gifts to share
In vain you damp the arlor of my soul,” A soul heroic, as his form was fair:
Replied Euryalus; "it scorns control!
Hence, let us haste!"-their brother guards arose, These buru with one pure flame of generous love ; Roused by their call, nor court again repose ; In peace, in war, united still they move;
The pair, buoy'd up on Hope's exulting wing, Friendship and glory form their joint reward; Their stations leave, and speed to seek the king. And now combined they hold their nightly guard.
"What god," exclaim'd the first, "ivstils this fire ? Now o'er the earth a solemn stillness ran, Or, in itself a god, what great desire ?
And lull'd alike the cares of brute and man;
Save where the Dardan leaders nightly hold
But when the hostile chiefs at length bow down,
twelve slaves, and twice six captive dames,
“With patience" (thus Hyrtacides began) “ Attend, nor judge from youth our humble plan. Where yonder beacons half expiring beam, Our slumbering foes of future conquest dream, Nor heed that we a secret path have traced, Between the ocean and the portal placed. Beneath the covert of the blackening smoke, Whose shade securely our design will cloak! If you, ye chiefs, and fortune will allow, Wo'll bend our course to yonder mountain's brow, Where Pallas' walls at distance meet the sight, Seen o'er the glade, when not obscured by night: Then shall Æneas in his pride return, While hostile matrons raise their offspring's urn; And Latian spoils and purpled heaps of dead Shall mark the havoc of our hero's tread. Such is our purpose, not unknown the way; Where yonder torrent's devious waters stray, Oft have we seen, when hunting by the stream, The distant spires above the valleys gleam."
Mature in years, for sober wisdom famed, Moved by the speech, Alethes here exclaim'd, “Ye parent gods! who rule the fate of Troy, Still dwells the Dardan spirit in the boy ; When minds like these in striplings thus ye raise, Yours is the godlike act, be yours the praise ; In gallant youth, my fainting hopes revive, And Ilion's wonted glories still survive." Then in his warm embrace the boys he press'd, And, quivering, strain'd them to his aged breast; With tears the burning cheek of each bedew'd, And, sobbing, thus his first discourse renewd: “What gift, my countrymen, what martial prize Can we bestow, which you may not despise ? Our deities the first best boon have givenInternal virtues are the gift of Heaven. What poor rewards can bless your deeds on earth, Doubtless await such young, exalted worth. Æneas and Ascanius shall combine To yield applause far, far surpassing mine." Lulus then :-“ By all the powers above! By those Penates who my country love! By hoary Vesta's sacred fane, I swear, My hopes are all in you, yo generous pair! Restore my father to my grateful sight, And all my sorrows yield to one delight. Nisus ! two silver goblets are thine own, Saved from Arisba's stately domes o'erthrown! My sire secured them on that fatal day, Nor lest such bowls an Argive robber's prey: Two massy tripods, also, shall be thine ; Two talents polish'd from the glittering mine; An ancient cup, which Tyrian Dido gave, While yet our vessels press'd the Punic wave :
To him Euryalus :—“No day shall shame The rising glories which from this I claim. Fortune may favor, or the skies may frown, But valor, spite of fate, obtains renown. Yet, ere from hence our eager steps depart, One boon I beg, the nearest to my heart : My mother, sprung from Priam's royal line, Like thine ennobled, hardly less divine, Nor Troy nor king Acestes' realms restrain Her feeble age from dangers of the main; Alone she came, all selfish fears above, A bright example of maternal lovo. Unknown the secret enterprise I brave, Lest grief should bend my parent to the grave; From this alone no fond adieus I seek, No fainting mother's lips have press'd my cheek; By gloomy night and thy right hand I vow Her parting tears would shake my purpose now: Do thou, iny prince, her failing age sustain, In theo her much loved child may live again; Her dying hours with pions conduct bless, Assist her wants, relievo her fond distress: So dear a hope must all my soul inflame, To rise in glory, or to fall in fame." Struck with a filial care so deeply felt, In tears at once the Trojan warriors melt: Faster than all, Iulus' eyes o'erflow; Such love was his, and such had been his wo. “ All thou hast ask'd, receive," the prince replied ; “ Nor this alone, but many a gift beside. To cheer thy mother's years shall be my aim, Creusa's' style but wanting to the dame. Fortune an adverse wayward course may run, But bless'd thy mother in so dear a son. Now, by my life!—my sire's most sacred oathTo thee I pledge my full, my firmest troth, All the rewards which once to thee were vowd, If thou shouldst fall, on her shall be bestow'd." Thus spoke the weeping prince, then forth to view A gleaming salchion from the sheath he drew; Lycaon's utmost skill had graced the steel, For friends to envy and for foes to feel: A tawny hide, the Moorish lion's spoil, Slain 'midst the forest, in the hunter's toil, Mnestheus to guard the elder youth bestow's, And old Alethes' casque defends bis brows.
i The mother of Iulus, lost on the night when Troy was taken.
Am'd, thence they go, while all th' assembled train, “ Hence let us haste, the dangerous path is pass’d; To aid their cause, implore the gods in vain.
Full foes enough to-night have breathed their last • | More than a boy, in wisdom and in grace,
Soon will the day those eastern clouds adorn; , Ialus holds amidst the chiefs his place :
Now let us speed, nor tempt the rising morn.'
With silver arms, with various art emboss'd,
What bowls and mantles in confusion toss'd, The trench is pass’d, and, favor'd by the night, They leave regardless! yet one glittering prize Through sleeping foes they wheel their wary flight. Attracts the younger hero's wandering eyes; When shall the sleep of many a foe be o'er?
The gilded harness Rhamnes' coursers felt, Alas! some slumber who shall wake no more! The gems which stud the monarch's golden belt: Chariots and bridles, mix'd with arms, are seen ; This from the pallid corse was quickly torn, And flowing flasks, and scatter'd troops between : Once by a line of former chieftains worn. Bacchus and Mars to rule the camp combine ; Th' exulting boy the studded girdle wears, A mingled chaos this of war and wine.
Messapus' helm his head in triumph bears; "Vow," cries the first, " for deeds of blood prepare, Then from the tents their cautious steps they bend, With me the conquest and the labor share:
To seek the vale where safer paths extend.
Just at this hour, a band of Latian horse
To Turnus' camp pursue their destined course : His whispering accents then the youth repress'd,
While the slow foot their tardy march delay, Sud pierced proud Rhamnes through his panting The knights, impatient, spur along the way; breast :
Three hundred mail-clad men, by Volscens led, Stretch'd at his ease, th' incautious king reposed;
To Turnus with their master's promise sped: Debuuch, and not fatigue, his eyes had closed :
Now they approach the trench, and view the walls, To Tunus dear, a prophet and a prince,
When, on the left, a light reflection falls; Hi omens more than augur's skill evince;
The plunder'd helmet, through the waning night, But he, who thus foretold the fate of all,
Sheds forth a silver radiance, glancing bright. Could not avert his own untimely fall.
Volscens with question loud the pair alarms:Next Remus armor-bearer, hapless, fell,
“Stand, stragglers ! stand! why early thus in arms? And three unhappy slaves the carnage swell;
From whence, to whom?"—He meets with no reply? T'he charioteer along his courser's sides
Trusting the covert of the night, they fly: Expires, the steel his sever'd neck divides;
The thicket's depth with hurried pace they tread, And, last, his lord is number'd with the dead:
While round the wood the hostile squadron spread. | Bound ng convulsive, tlies the gasping head; From the swoll'n veins the blackening torrents pour ; Staind is the couch and earth with clotting gore. Young Lamyrus and Lamus next expire,
With brakes entangled, scarce a path between, And gas Serranus, fili’d with youthful fire ;
Dreary and dark appears the sylvan scene : Half the long night in childish games was pasa'd ;
Euryalus his heavy spoils impede, Lall'd by the potent grape, he slept at last :
The boughs and winding turns his steps mislead ; Ah! happier far had he the morn survey'd,
But Nisus scours along the forest's maze
To where Latinus' steeds in safety graze, And til Aurora's dawn his skill display'd.
Then backward o'er the plain his eyes extend,
On every side they seek his absent friend. In slaughter'd fold, the keepers lost in sleep,
“0 God! my boy,” he cries, " of me bereft, His hungry fangs a lion thus may steep ;
In what impending perils art thou left !" 'Mid the sad lock, at dead of night ho prowls,
Listening he runs--above the waving trees, With murder glutted, and in carnage rolls:
Tumultuous voices swell the passing breeze; Insatiate still, through teeming herds he roams;
The war-cry rises, thundering hoofs around
Wake the dark cchoes of the trembling ground.
The sound elates, the sight his hope destroys:
The hapless boy a ruffian train surround, But falls on feeble crowds without a name ;
'While lengthening shades his weary way confound ; His wound unconscious Fadus scarce can feel,
Him with loud shouts the furious knights pursue,
What can his friend 'gainst thronging numbers dare? And rainly in the weak defence confides;
Ah! must he rush, his comrade's fate to share ?
Back to redeem the Latian spoiler's prey ?
Or die with him for whoin he wish'd to live?
On Luna's orb he cast his phrensied eye:There, unconfined, behold each grazing steed, “ Goddess serene, transcending every star! Unwatch'd, unheeded, on the herbage feed:
Queen of the sky, whoso beams are seen afar! Brave Nisus here arrests his comrade's arm,
By night heaven owns thy sway, by day the grove, Too flush'd with carnage, and with conquest warm:
When, as chaste Dian, here thou deign'st to rove;
TRANSLATION FROM THE MEDEA OF
The breast where love is wont to glow,
Which rolls the tide of human wo?
Can rouse the tortured breast no more ;
Absorbs each wish it felt before.
If e'er myself, or sire, have sought to graco
But if affection gently thrills
The soul by purer dreams possessid, The pleasing balm of mortal ills
In love can soothe the aching breast: If thus thou comest in disguise,
Fair Venus! from thy native heaven, What heart unfeeling would despise
The sweetest boon the gods have given?
But never from thy golden bow
May I beneath the shaft expire ! Whose creeping venom, sure and slow,
Awakes an all-consuming fire : Ye racking doubts! ye jealous fears!
With others wage internal war; Repentance, source of future tears,
From me be ever distant far!
May no distracting thoughts destroy
The holy calm of sacred love!
Which hover faithful hearts above!
May I with some fond lover sigh, Whose heart may mingle pure with mine
With me to live, with me to die.
But fiery Nisus stems the battle's tide, Revenge his leader, and despair his guide ; Volscens he seeks amidst the gathering host, Volscens must soon appease his comrade's ghost ; Steel, flashing, pours on steel, foe crowds on foo; Rage nerves his arm, fate gleams in every blow; In vain beneath unnumber'd wounds he bleeds, Nor wounds, nor death, distracted Nisus heeds ; In viewless circles wheel'd, his falchion flies, Nor quits the hero's grasp till Volscens dies ; Deep in his throat its end the weapon found, The tyrant's soul fled groaning through the wound. Thus Nisus all his fond affection provedDying, revenged the fate of him he loved ; Then on his bosom sought his wonted place, And death was heavenly in his friend's embrace.
My native soil! beloved before,
Now dearer as my peaceful home, Ne'er may I quit thy rocky shore,
A hapless banish'd wretch to roam! This very day, this very hour,
May I resign this fleeting breath! Nor quit my silent humble bower;
A doom to me far worse than death,
Have I not heard the exile's sigh?
And seen the exile's silent tear, Through distant climes condemnd to fly,
A pensive weary wanderer here? Ah! hapless dame!! no sire bewails,
No friend thy wretched fate deplores, No kindred voice with rapture hails
Thy steps within a stranger's doors.
Celestial pair! if aught my verse can claim,
Perish the fiend whose iron heart,
To fair affection's truth unknown, Bids her he fondly loved depart,
Unpitied, helpless, and alone ;
1 Medea, who accompanied Jason to Corinth, w deserted though a considerab liberty is taken with the original, by by him for the daughter of Creon, king of that city. The expanding the idea, as also in some other parts of the transchorus from which this is taken here addresses Medea ; lation.