« ZurückWeiter »
Then, that we should our sacrilege restore, Some dance, some haul the rope ; at last let, And re-convey their gods from Argos' shore,
down Calchas persuades, till then we urge in vain It enters with a thundering noise the town, The fate of Troy. To measure back the main Oh Troy, the seat of gods, in war renown'd! They all consent, but to return again,
Three times it struck, as oft the clashing sound When reinforc'd with aids of gods and men. Of arms was heard, yet blinded by the power Thus Calchas; then, instead of that, this pile Of Fate, we'place it in the sacred tower. To Pallas was design'd; to reconcile
Cassandra then foretels th’ event, but she 'Th' offended power, and expiate our guilt ; Finds no belief (such was the gods' decree.) To this vast height and moustrous stature built, The altars with fresh flowers we crown, and Lest, through your gates receiv'd, it might re
In feasts that day, which was (alas !) our last. Your vows to her, and her defence to you. Now by the revolution of the skies, But if this sacred gift you disesteem,
Night's sable shadows from the ocean rise, The cruel plagues (which Heaven divert on Which heaven and earth, and the Greek frauds them!)
involv'd. Shall fall on Priam's state : but ifthe horse The city in secure repose dissolv'd, Your walls ascend, assisted by your force, When from the admiral's high poop appears A league'gainst Greece all Asia shall contract : A light, by which the Argive squadron steers Our sons then suffering what their sires would Their silent course to Nium's well-known shore, act."
When Sinon (sav'd by the gods' partial puwer) Thus by bis fraud and our own faith o'er-Opens the horse, and through the unlockt doors A feigned tear destroys us, against whom (come, To the free air the armed freight restores : Tydides nor Achilles could prevail,
Ulysses, Stheneleus, Tisander, slide Nor ten years conflict, nor a thousand sail. Down by a rope, Machaon was their guide ; This seconded by a most sad portent,
Atrides, Pyrrhus, Thoas, Athamas, Which credit to the first imposture lent; And Epeus, who the fraud's contriver was : Laocoon, Neptune's priest, upon the day
The gates they seize; the guards, with sleep Devoted to that god, a bull did slay.
and wine When two prodigious serpents were descry'd, Opprest, surprise, and then their forces join. Whose circling strokes the sea's smooth face 'Twas then, when the first sweets of sleep redivide;
pair Above the deep they raise their scaly crests, Our bodies spent with toil, our minds with care, And stem the flood with their erected breasts, (The gods' best gift) when, bath'd in tears and Their winding tails advance and steer their
Before my face lamenting Hector stood, And 'gainst the shore the breaking billows force. His aspect such when, soild with bloody dust, Now landing, from their brandish'd tongues there Dragg'd by the cords which through bis feet came,
were thrust: A dreadful hiss, and from their eyes a flame. By his insulting foe, O how transform'd Amaz'd we fly, directly in aline
How much unlike that Hector, who return'd Laocoon they pursue, and first entwine
Clad in Achilles' spoils : when he among (Fach preying upon one) his tender sons; A thousand ships, (like Jove) his lightning flung! Then him, who armed to their rescue runs, His horrid beard and knotted tresses stood They seiz’d, and with entangling foes embrac'd, Stiff with his gore, and all his wounds ran blood: His neck twice compassing, and twice his waist : Intranc'd Ilay, then (weeping) said, " The joy, Their poisonous knots he strives to break and The hope and stay of thy declining Troy ! tear,
What region held thee, wlience so much desir'd, While slime and blood his sacred wreaths be- Art thou restor'd to us consum'd and tir'd smear;
With toils and deaths; but what sad cause conThen loudly roars, as when th' enraged bull
founds From th' altar flies, and from his wounded skull Thy once fair looks,or why appear hose wounds:"" Shakes the huge axe; the conquering serpents Regardless of my words, he no reply To cruel Pallas' altar, and their lie
[fly Returns, but wih a dreadful groan doth cry, Under her feet, within her shield's extent. “ Fiy from the Name, O goddess-born, our walls We, in our fears, conclude this fate was sent The Greeks possess, and Troy confounded falls Justly on him, who struck the sacred oak From all her glories; if it might have stood With his accursed lance. Then to invoke
By any power, by this right hand it should. The goddess, and let in the fatal Lorse,
What man could do, by me for 'Troy was done, We all consent.
Take here her reliques and her gods, to run A spacious breach we make, and Troy's proud With them thy fate, with them new walls exwall.
pect, Puilt by the gods, by her own hands doth fall; Which, tost on seas, thou shall at last erect:” Thus all their help to their own ruin give, Then brings old Vesta from her sacred quire, Some draw with cords and some the monster Her holy wreaths, and her eternal fire. drive
Meanwhile the walls with doubtful cries resound With rolls and levers : thus our works it climbs, From far (for shady coverts did surround Big with our fate; the youth with songs and My father's house); approaching still more near shimes,
The clash of arms, and voice of men we hear :
Rouz'd from my bed, I speedily ascend Nor only on the Trojans fell this doom,
Thus greeting us, “ You lose by your delay, From neighbouring hills th' amazed shepherd Your share both of the honour and the prey ; hears;
Others the spoils of burning Troy convey Such my surprise, and such their rage appears. Back to those ships which you but now forsake.” First fell thy house, Ucalegon, then thine We making no return, his sad mistake Deiphobus, Sigæan seas did shine
Too late he finds: as when an unseen snake Bright with Troy's flames; the trumpets dreadful A traveller's unwary fuot hath prest, sound
Who trembling starts when the snake's azure The louder groans of dying men confound; Swoln with his rising anger, he espies, (crest, "Give me my arms,” I cry'd, resolv'd to throw So from our view surpriz'd Androgeus flies. Myself 'mong any that oppos'd the foe :
But here an easy victory we meet : [fect. Rage, anger, and despair at once suggest, Fear binds their hands, and ignorance their That of all deaths to die in arms was best. Whilst fortune our first enterprize did aid, The first I met was Pantheus, Phoebus' priest, Encourag'd with success, Chorcebus said, Who, 'scaping with his gods and reliques, filed, “O friends we now by better Fates are led, And towards the shore his little grandchild led. And the fair path they lead us, let us tread. “ Pantheus, what hope remains ? what force, First change your arms, and their distinctions what place
The same, in foes, deceit and virtue are.”[bear ; Made good ?” but sighing, he replies, “ Alas! Then of his arms Androgeus he divests, Trojans we were, and mighty llium was; His sword, his shield he takes, and plumed crests, But the last period, and the fatal hour
Then Ripheus, Dymas, and the rest, all glad Of Troy is come: our glory and our power Of the occasion, in fresh spoils are clad. Incensed Jove's transfers to Grecian hands; Thus mixt with Greeks, as if their fortune still The foe within the burning town commands; Follow'd their swords, we fight, pursue, and kill. And (like a smother'd fire) an unseen force Some re-ascend the horse, and he whose sides Breaks from the bowels of the fatal borse : Let forth the valiant, now the coward hides. Insulting Sinon Alings about the flame,
Some to their safer guard, their ships, retire; And thousands more than e'er from Argos came But vain's that hope, 'gainst which the gods conPossess the gates, the passes, and the streets, Behold the royal virgin, the divine [spire : And these the sword o'ertakes, and those it meets. Cassandra, from Minerva's fatal shrine (vain, The guard nor fights, nor flies; their fate so Dragg’d by the hair, casting towards heaven, in
Her eyes; for cords her tender hands did strain ; at once suspends their courage and their fear.” Choræbus, at the spectacle enrag'd Thus by the gods, and by Atrides' words Flies in amidst the foes: we thús engagid, Inspir'd, I make my way through fire, through To second him, among the thickest ran; swords,
Here first our ruin from our friends began, Where noises, tumults, outcries, and alarms, Who from the temple's battlements a shower Í heard. First Iphitus, renown'd for arms, Of darts and arrows on our heads did pour ; We meet, who knew us (for the Moon did sbine); They us for Greeks, and now the Greeks (who Then Ripheus, Hypanis, and Dymas join Cassandra's rescue) us for Trojans slew. (knew Their force, and young Chorcebus, Mygdon's Then from all parts Ulysses, Ajax then, Who, by the love of fair Cassandra, won, (son, And then th’ Atridæ, rally all their men; Arriv'd but lately in her father's aid;
As winds, that meet from several coasts, contest, Unhappy, whom the threats could not dissuade Their prisons being broke, the south and west, Of his prophetic spouse;
And Eurus on his winged coursers borne, Whom when I saw yet daring to maintain Triumphing in their speed, the woods are torn, The fight, I said, “ Brave spirits (but in vain) And chasing Nereus with his trident throws Are you resolv'd to follow one who dares The billows from the bottom; then all those Tempt all extremes; the state of our affairs Who in the dark our fury did escape, You see : the gods have left us, by wbose aill Returning, know our borrow'd arms, and shape, Our empire stood ; nor can the fame be staid : And different dialect : then their numbers swell Then let us fall amidst our foes ; this one And grow upon us. First Chorcebus felt Relief the vanquish'd have, to hope for none." Before Minerva's altar, next did bleed Then reinforc'd, as in a stormy night
Just Fipheus, whom no Trojan did'exceed Woltes urged by their raging appetite
In virtue, yet the gods his fate decreed. Forage for prey, which their neglected young Then Hypanis and Dymas, wounded by With greedy jaws expect, ev'n so among Their friends; nor thee, Pantheus, thy piety, Foes, fire, and swords, t assured death we pass, Nor consecrated mitre, from the same Darkness our guide, Despair our leader was. Ill fate could save ; my country's funeral flame Who can relate that evening's woes and spoils, And Troy's cold ashes I attest, and call Or can his tears proportion to our toils ? To witness for myself, that in their fall The city, which so long had Aourist'd, falls ; No fues, no death, nor danger, I declin'd, Death triumphs o'er the houses, temples, walls. Did, and deserv'ů no less, iny tate to find,
Now Iphitus with me, and Pelias ,
And now between two sad extremes I stood, Slowly retire ; the one retarded was
Here Pyrrhus and th’ Atridæ drunk with blood, By feeble age, the otber by a wound.
There th' hapless queen amongst an hundred To court the cry directs us, where we found
dames, 'Th' assault so hot, as if 'twere only there, And Priam quenching from his wounds those And all the rest secure from foes or fear :
flames The Greeks the gates approach'd, their targets Which his own hands had on the altar laid ; cast
Then they the secret eabinets invade, Over their heads ; some scaling ladders plac'd Where stood the fifty nuptial beds, the hopes Against the walls, the rest the steps ascend, Of that great race; the golden posts, whose tops And with their shields on their left arms defend Old hostile spoils adorn'd, demolish'd lay, Arrows and darts, and with their right hold fast Or to the foe, or to the fire a prey. The battlement ; on them the Trojans cast Now Priam's fate perhaps you may inqnire : Stones, rafters, pillars, beams ; such arnis as Seeing his empire lost, his Troy on fire, these,
And his own palace by the Greeks possest, Now hopeless, for their last defence they seize. Arms long disus'd his trembling limbs invest; The gilded roofs, the marks of ancient state, Thus on his foes he throws himself alone, They tumble down ; and now against the gate Not for their fate, but to provoke his own: Of th’ inner court their growing force they | There stood an altar open to the view bring :
Of Heaven, near which an aged laurel grew, Now was our last effort to save the king,
Whose shady arms the household gods embrac'd; Relieve the fainting, and succeed the dead. Before whose feet the queen herself lrad east A private gallery 'twixt th' apartments led, With all her daughters, and the Trojan wives, Not to the foe yet known, or not observd, As doves whom an approaching tempest drives (The way for Hector's hapless wife reservod, And frights into one flock; but having spy'd When to the aged king, her little son [run Old Priam clad in youthful arm, she cried, She would present) through this we pass, and “ Alas, my wretched husband, what pretence Up to the highest battlement, from whence To bear those arms, and in them wbat defence? The Trojans threw their darts without offence, Such aid such times require not, when again A tower so high, it seem'd to reach the sky, If Hector were alive, he liv'd in vain ; Stood on the roof, from whence we could descry Or here weshalt a sanctuary find, All llium--both the camps, the Grecian fleet; Or as in life we shall in death be join'd.” This, where the beams upon the columns meet, Then weeping, with kind force held and embrac'd, We loosen, which like thunder from the cloud And on the secret seat the king she plac'd. Breaks on their heads, as sudden and as loud. Meantime Polites, one of Priam's sons, But others still succeed: meantime, nor stones Flying the rage of bloody Pyrrhus, runs Nor any kind of weapons cease.
Through foes and swords, and ranges all the court, Before the gate in gildedi armour shone (grown, And empty galleries, amaz’d and hurt ; Young Pyrrhus, like a snake, bis skin new Pyrrhus pursues him, now o’ertakes, now kills, Who fed on poisonous herbs, all winter lay And his layt blood in Priam's presence spills. Under the ground, and now reviews the day The king (though him so many deaths enclose) Fresh in bis new apparel, prond and young, Nor fear, nor grief, but indignation shows; Rolls up his back, and brandishes his tongue, “ The gods requite thee, (if within the care And lifts his scaly breast against the Sun; Of those above th' affairs of mortals are) With him his father's squire, Automedon, Whose fury on the son but lost had been, And Peripas, who drove his winged steeds, Hlad not his parents' eyes his murder seen: Enter the court; whom all the youth succeeds Not that Achilles (whom thou feigu’st to be Of Scyros' isle; who flaming firebrands llung Thy father) so inhuman was to me; Up to the roof; Pyrrhus himself among He blusht, when I the rights of arms implor'd ; The foremost with an axe an entrance hews To me my Hector, me to Troy restur'd." Through beams of solid oak, then freely views This said, his feeble arm a javelin flung, The chambers, galleries, and rooms of state, Which on the sounding shield, searce entering Where Priam and the ancient monarchs sat.
ring: At the first gate an armed guard appears ; Then Pyrrhus ; " Go a messenger to HellBut th' inner court with horrour, noise, and tears, | Of my black deeds, and to my father tell Confus'diy fill'd, the women's shrieks and cries The acts of liis degenerate race." So through The arch'd vaults re-echo to the skies;
His son's warm blood the trembling king he Sad matrons wandering through the spacious
To th' altar; in his hair one hand he wreaths; Embrace and kiss the posts : then Pyrrhus comes His sword the other in his bosom sheaths. Full of his father, neither men nor walls
Thus fell the king, who yet surviv'd the state, His force sustain, the torn portcullis falls, With such a signal and peculiar fate, Then from the binge their strokes the gates di- Under so vast a ruin, not a grave, vorce,
Nor o such Names a funcral fire to have: And where the way they cannot find, they force. He whom such titles swelld, such poner made Not with such rage a swelling torren: flows
proud, Above his banks, th’opposing cams o'erthrows, To whom the sceptres of all Asia bow'd, Depopulates the fields, the castle, sheep,
On the cold earth lies th' unrearded king, Shepherds and fulds, the foaming surges swecp. A headless carcase, and a mameless tbing.
ON THE EARL OF STRAFFORD...TO A PERSON OF HONOUR. 243
Since man to that perfection cannot rise,
Therefore the patterns man should imitate
Herein, if we consult with Greece and Rome, Great Strafford ! worthy of that name, though Greece (as in war) by Rome was overcome; all
Though mighty raptures we in Homer find, Of thee could be forgotten, but thy fall,
Yet, like himself, his characters were blind; Crush'd by imaginary treason's weight,
Virgil's sublimed eyes not only gaz'd, Which too much merit did accumulate:
But bis sublimed thoughts to Heaven were As chymists gold from brass by fire would draw,
raiz'd. Pretexts are into treason forg'd by law.
Who reads the honours which he paid the gods, His wisdom such, at once it did appear
Would think he had beheld their blest abodes; Three kingdoms' wonder, and three kingdoms' And that his hero might accomplish'd be, fear;
From divine blood he draws his pedigree. While single he stood forth, and seem'd, although From that great judge your judgment takes its Each had an army, as an equal foe.
ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF
HENRY LORD HASTINGS, 1650.
When every line they add improves thy loss, Death from their fears, than safety from his Till having view'd the whole, they sum own,
cross; Tnat his last action all the rest might crown.
Such as derides thy passions' best relief,
Of man and pious, read and mourn : the shame TO A PERSON OF HONOUR,
Of an exemption, from just sense, doth show
Irrational, beyond excess of woe.
Since reason, then, can privilege a tear,
Manbood, uncensur'd, pay that tribute here, So high above all vulgar eyes! so long? One single rapture scarce itself confines
Dust far more precious than in India's veins :
Within these cold embraces, ravish'd, lies Within the limits of four thousand lines :
That which compleats the age's tyrannies :
Who weak to such another ill appear,
For what destroys our hope, secures our fear. And to the end of time its beams extend.
What sin unexpiate!, in this land When Poesy joins profit with delight,
Of groans, hath guided so severe a band ? Her images should be most exquisite,
The late great victim 2 that your altars knew,
Ye angry gods, might have excus'd this new 1 The honourable Edward Howard, by his oblation, and have spar’d one lofty light
Of virtue, to inform our steps aright; poem called The British Princes, engaged the By whose example good, condemned, we attention of by far the most eminent of his con
Might hare run on to kinder destiny. temporaries; who played upon his vanity, as
But as the leader of the herd fell first the wits of half a century before had done on that of Thomas Coryat, by writing extravagant of inflam'd vengeance for past crimes ; soñone
A sacrifice, to quench the raging thirst compliments on bis works. See Butler's, Wal-But this white-fatted youngling cou'd atone, ler's, Spçats, and Dorset's verses,jn their respec. By his untimely fate; that impious smoke, tive volumes; and in the Select Collection of That sullied Earth, and did Heaven's pity choke. Miscellaneous Poems, 1780, vol. III. p. 105, are other verses on the same subject, by Marton Clifford, and the lord Vaughan: n.
? King Charles the First.
Let it suffice for us, that we have lost
Thus the constitution
From the father to the son.
(Our friend) Molleson
Thought us to have out-gone
With a quaint invention.
He complain'd long before,
Ay, and thrice as much more.
And with that wicked lye,
A letter they came by And tell those powers to whom thou now draw'st | From our king's majesty. near,
[dead, That by our trembling sense, in HASTINGS Brought the letter too late,
But Fate Their anger and our ugly faults are read;
'Twas of too old a date The short lines of whose life did to our eyes
To relieve their damn'd state,
Turn'd into good Latin.
But he that gave the hint
Must also pay his stint.
But the messenger fell sick.
Had it later been wrote,
And sooner been brought, Of the pure ones in Pole,
They had got what they sought, Which are damn'd in our scroul.
But now it serves for nought. Who having felt a touch
On Sandys they ran aground, Of Cockram's greedy clutch,
And our return was crown'd
With full ten thousand pound.
ON MR. THO. KILLICREW'S RETURN FROM VENICE,
AND MR. WILLIAM MURREY'S FROM SCOTLAND. Nor lend An ear to a friend,
Our resident Tom, Nor an answer would send
From Venice is come, To our letter so well penn'd.
And hath left the statesman behind him:
Talks at the same pitch, Nor assist our affairs
Is as wise, is as rich ; With their monies nor their wares,
And just where you left him, you find him. As their answer now declares, But only with their prayers.
But who says he was not Thas they did persist
A man of much plot, Did and said what they list,
May repent that false accusations Till the diet was dismist;
Having plotted and penn'd
Six plays, to attend
The farce of his negotiation.
Before you were told
How Satan 3 the old They should pay one in ten,
Came here with a beard to his middle; The diet said, Amen.
Though he chang'd face and names And because they are loth
Old Will was the same,
At the noise of a can and a fiddle.
3 Mr. W. Murrey.