Page:Tales and Historic Scenes.pdf/149

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Wake, slumberers, wake! Hark! heard ye not a sound Of gathering tumult?—Near and nearer still Its murmur swells. Above, below, around, Bursts a strange chorus forth, confused and shrill. Wake, Alexandria! through thy streets the tread Of steps unseen is hurrying, and the note Of pipe, and lyre, and trumpet, wild and dread, Is heard upon the midnight air to float; And voices, clamorous as in frenzied mirth, Mingle their thousand tones, which are not of the earth.

These are no mortal sounds—their thrilling strain Hath more mysterious power, and birth more high; And the deep horror chilling every vein Owns them of stern, terrific augury. Beings of worlds unknown! ye pass away, O ye invisible and awful throng! Your echoing footsteps and resounding lay To Cæsar's camp exulting move along. Thy gods forsake thee, Antony! the sky By that dread sign reveals—thy doom—"Despair and die!"2