Page:Hemans in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine 11 1822.pdf/14



are the lessons giv'n That shake the startled earth?—When wakes the foe While the friend sleeps?—When falls the traitor's blow? When are proud sceptres riv'n— High hopes o'erthrown?—It is, when lands rejoice, When cities blaze, and lift th' exulting voice, And wave their banners to the kindling heav'n.

Fear ye the festal hour! When mirth o'erflows, then tremble!—'Twas a night Of gorgeous revel, wreaths, and dance, and light, When, through the regal bow'r, The trumpet peal’d, ere yet the song was done; And there were shrieks in golden Babylon, And trampling armies, ruthless in their pow’r,

The marble shrines were crown’d; Young voices, through the blue Athenian sky, And Dorian reeds, made summer-melody, And censers wav'd around; And lyres were strung, and bright libations pour'd, When, through the streets, flash'd out th' avenging sword, Fearless and free, the sword with myrtles bound* !

Through Rome a triumph pass'd. Rich in her sun-god's mantling beams went by That long array of glorious pageantry, With shout and trumpet-blast. An empire's gems their starry splendour shed O'er the proud march; a king in chains was led, A victor, crown'd and rob'd, came stately last†.

And many a Dryad's bow'r Had lent the laurels, which, in waving play, Stirr'd the warm air, and glisten’d round his way, As a quick-flashing show'r, O'er his own porch, meantime, the cypress hung; Through his fair halls a cry of anguish rung–- Woe for the dead!—the father's broken flow'r!

A sound of lyre and song, In the still night, went floating o'er the Nile, Whose waves, by many an old mysterious pile, Swept with that voice along; And lamps were shining o'er the red wine's foam, Where a chief revell'd in a monarch's dome, And fresh rose-garlands deck'd a glittering throng.