Page:Poems Sigourney 1827.pdf/28

28 Fell like his lowliest subject. Light of heart, The expectant prince received a nation's vows, And rear'd himself to reign. But watchful Fate, As if determin'd still to mar the joys Of him who dealt in guile, with hasty hand Number'd his days. The royal forehead droop'd To dire disease, and the slight diadem Disown'd its brief companionship.—One grave Open'd for both.—Whom rivalry disjoin'd, Nature in burial, as in birth made one. Grief mark'd their obsequies, and the sad tribe Like orphans mourning, heap'd the hallow'd mould. —Not thus the Persian brothers, fired with rage Of mad ambition for their father's throne, Respected kindred ties. Not like those kings Nurtured by nature o'er her wilds to roam And to her teachings bow,—their rash swords spared That blood which through their rival breasts was pour'd From the same fountain. —On Cunaxa's plain The war they raised. Bold Artaxerxes brought His scythe-arm'd chariots, and his countless troops, Egyptians, by their ample bucklers hid, And white-robed Persians with uncover'd heads And glittering armour. Fiery Cyrus came, Proud of his allied Greeks to blood inured On Peloponnesus,—while his furious voice The Paphlagonian cavalry inspired, With rage like his.— But see! his life-tide flows Beneath his brother's javelin,—and he falls Foaming, like him of Bosworth, while his teeth Gnashing vindictive, testify the force Of hatred built on love.