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Like Telamonian Teucer on the mound

With all Trozenè, Arimnestus there,

With his Platæans, and the Thespian brave,
Alcimedon, assail the Persian flanks.

So two hoarse torrents opposite descend

Of Atreus' son, where Fate's unerring hand [dead Diomedon's bold successor in arms,
Had strung the bow which heap'd with Phrygian❘
Th' empurpled fosse, while Ajax swung abroad
The sev'n-fold shield to guard a brother's skill.
Still in the field Masistius, who observ'd
The active archer, from his lofty seat
Against him whirls a javelin. Cimon near
Receives the blunted weapon on the boss
Of his huge buckler. His vindictive bow
Olympiodorus bends; the rapid shaft
Full in the forehead of the gen'rous steed
He lodges deep. The high Nisæan blood
Boils in its channels through tormenting pain;
Erect the courser paws in air, and hurls
In writhing agitation from his back
Th' illustrious rider on the plain supine.
Against him rush th' Athenians; on his feet
They find him brandishing his sabre keen,
With his firm shield a bulwark to his breast,
Like one of those earth-sprung in radiant arms,
Whom the Cadmean dragon's fruitful jaws,
Or Colchian serpent's teeth, produc'd. Assail'd
On ev'ry side, his fortitude augments
With danger. Down to Pluto's realm he sends
Iphicrates and Eurytus, who drank
Callirrhoe's fountain; Amynander, born
On smooth Ilissus, and three gallant youths
Of Marathon. His cuirass strong withstands
Repeated blows; unwounded, but o'ercome
By unremitted labour, on his knees,

From hills, where recent thunder-storms have burst;
In the mid-vale the dashing waters meet
To overwhelm the peasant's hopes and toil.
Myronides and Eschylus in sight,

Each with his formidable phalanx moves;
Th' encampment whole is arming. From the fight
His mangled cavalry the Persian calls.
In eager quest of refuge in their lines
Beyond Asopus, through surrounding foes
The coursers vault like swimmers, who forsake
A found'ring vessel, and with buoyant strength
Bound through the surge for safety on the beach.

Like some proud structure half o'erthrown by time,
He sinks at last. Brave Cimon hastes to save
A foe so noble in his deeds, in port
Beyond a mortal; when a vulgar sword
That moment through the vizor of his helm
Transfix'd the brain, so exquisitely form'd,
The seat of purest sentiment and thought.
His frame, in ruin beauteous still and great,
The fatal stroke laid low. An earthquake thus
Shook from his base that wonder of the world,
The Colossean deity of Rhodes.

Of danger all unheeding, by his lord
Statirus kneel'd, and o'er his bosom spread
His palms in anguish. Timely to protect
The gentle youth ingenuous Cimon came,
While thus the gasping satrap breath'd his last:
"Farewell, thou faithful-Bid Mardonius think
How brief are life's enjoyments-Virtue lives
Through all eternity-By virtue earn'd,
Praise too is long-Melissa-grant me thine."
in death, resembling sweetest sleep, his eyes
Serenely drop their curtains, and the soul
Flies to th' eternal mansions of the just.
Within the trenches Cimon straight commands
To lodge the corse; when lo! another cloud
Of Eastern squadrons, Mindarus their chief,
Who, o'er the stream detach'd with numbers new,
Not finding great Masistius, rous'd afresh
The storm of onset. Dreadful was the shock
Of these, attempting to redeem, of those,
Who held the body; but the Attic spears
Break in the chests of fiery steeds, which press
With violence unyielding, and the ranks
In front disarm. The archers have discharg'd
Their quivers. Now had Mindarus acquir'd
Undying glory, and the Greeks resign'd

The long-contested prize, when threat'ning shouts,
Of diff'rent Grecians, pouring from the camp,
Alarm the eastern chief. Cleander here
VOL. XVII.

Triumphant in their camp the Greeks replace
Their standards; thither Cimon's gen'rous care
Transports Masistius. Eager to behold

A prize so noble, curious throngs on throngs
Press in disorder; each his station leaves;
Confusion reigns. The gen'ral host to arms
Pausanias sternly vigilant commands,
And next provides a chariot to display,
Throughout th' extensive lines, th' illustrious dead,
In magnitude and beauty late the pride
Of Nature's study'd workmanship. His limbs
The hand of Cimon tenderly compos'd,
As would a brother to a brother's corse.
Masistius fill'd the chariot; on his knees
Statirus held, and water'd with his tears
The face majestic, not by death deform'd,
Pale, but with features mild, which still retain'd
Attractive sweetness to endear the sight.

First on the right through Lacedæmon's range
The spectacle is carried; silence there
Prevails; the Spartan citizen no sign
Of triumph shows, subordinate to law,
Which disciplin'd his passions. Tow'rds the left,
Through exultation loud of other Greeks,
The awful car at length to Attic ranks
Brings their own prize, by Aristides met;
There silence too, in rev'rence of their chief,
Is universal. He prepares to speak;
But first the mighty relics he surveys.
He feels like Jove, contemplating the pure,
The gen'rous, brave Sarpedon, as he lay

In Death's cold arms, when swift th' almighty sire
Decreed that Morpheus, gentlest of the gods,
Should waft to Lycia's realm the royal clay,
From pious friends and subjects to obtain
The rites of splendid sepulture. Complete
Was now the solemn pause; to list'ning ears
Thus Aristides vents his godlike soul:

"Here close your triumph, Grecians, nor provoke
The jealous pow'rs who mark for chosen wrath
O'er-weening pride. Though auguring success
From this great satrap's fall, revere his clay;
Such rev'rence all of mortal mould will need,
All soon, or late. If comeliness and strength,
If gracious manners, and a mind humane,
If worth and wisdom could avoid the grave,
You had not seen this tow'r of Asia fall.
Yet there is left attainable by man,
What may survive the grave; it is the fame
Of gen'rous actions; this do you attain.
I in Psittalia's isle this Persian knew

Brave Medon's prize; his captive hands we freed;
To him our hospitable faith we pledg'd,

M

Through whom Phoebean Timon was redeem'd,
With Haliartus, on Eubœa's fields
To signalize their swords.

On Eta's hill
In him the daughter of Oïleus found

A spotless guardian. Let his corse and arms,
Thy acquisition, Cimon, be resign'd
To piety; a herald shall attend

Thy steps; remove him to his native friends.
Let Xerxes hear, let fierce Mardonius see,
How much barbarians differ from the Greeks."
Minerva's tribes, approving, hear the words
Of clemency and pity. Cimon mounts
The fun'ral car; attentive and compos'd,
Like Maia's son commission'd from the skies
By his eternal sire, the warrior hears
The full instructions of his patron chief.
Th' Asopian stream he fords to Asia's tents,
Whence issue wailing multitudes, who rend
The air with ejulation, while the wheels
Before Mardonius stop their solemn roll.
He rives his mantle, and defiles with dust
His splendid head. Not more the destin'd king
Of Judah mourn'd the virtuous heir of Saul,
Mow'd down in battle by Philistian strength
On Gilboa's heights; nor melted more in grief
O'er Absalom's fair locks, too much endear'd
To blind parental fondness. From the car
Descending, Cimon spake: "Lo! Persian chief,
The just Athenian, Aristides, sends
These relics, which he honours, to partake
Of sepulture, as eastern rites ordain."

"Then art thou fall'n, too confident," exclaims
Mardonius, "too unmindful of my love,
And anxious warnings! Mithra, veil thy face
In clouds! In tears of blood, thou sky, dissolve!
Earth groan, and gen'ral nature join in woe!
The tallest cedar of the orient groves
Lies prostrate-Destiny malign! I brave
Thy further malice-Blasted to the root
Is all my joy." Here sorrow clos'd his lips.
As frozen dead by wintry gusts he stood,
Devoid of motion; Mindarus was nigh,
Whose interposing prudence thus was heard:

"O chief of nations numberless! who stand
Spectators round, and watch thy lightest look,
Confine thy anguish; in their sight revere
Thyself; regard this messenger benign
From Aristides, and thy native sense
Of obligation rouse." Mardonius then,

As from a trance: "I hear thee, and approve,
My gentle kinsman. This returning car,
With purest gold, and costly vesture pil'd,
Shall bear the copious tribute of my thanks
To Aristides; whom extoll'd to Heav'n
By excellent Masistius oft my soul
Hath heard, the righteous by the righteous prais'd."
Now Cimon interpos'd: "That man extoll'd
Thou dost not, Persian, lib'ral as thou art,
Mean to offend; thy presents then withhold.
In poverty more glorious than in wealth
The wealthiest, Aristides frowus at gold.
No costly vestures decorate his frame,
Itself divine; the very arms he wears,
The sole possession of that spotless man,
All ornament reject; he only boasts
The sharpest sword, the weightiest spear and shield."
"Ha! must I pass unthankful in the sight
Of one, Masistius lov'd?" the chief reply'd.

Mardonius fix'd on Cimon: "That request,
O`Greek! is big with danger to my head,
Which I will hazard, since the only price
Set on the precious relics thou restor'st."

This said, he orders to his tent the corse;
There on the clay-cold bosom of his friend
Thus plaintive hangs: "Fall'n pillar of my hopes,
What is Mardonius, wanting thy support?
Thou arm of strength, for ever are cnbrac'd
Thy nerves! Enlighten'd mind, where prudence
dwelt,

Heart purify'd by honour, you have left
Mardonius helpless; left him to himself,
To his own passions, which thy counsel tam'd!
The dang'rous paths of errour I shall tread
Without thy guidance! Shame, defeat, and death,
Frown in thy wounds ill-boding-yet thy look
Not fate itself of gentleness deprives.

By Heaven a world shall mourn thee"-Loud he
calls;

Which Mindarus obeys. To him the chief:

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Thou too didst love Masistius-Fly, proclaim
A gen'ral lamentation through the camp;
Let all Bootia sound Masistius lost.

O verify'd too clearly, boding dream
Of mine, by him so fatally despis'd!
See ev'ry head dismantled of its bair,
The soldiers, women, eunuchs; of his mane
See ev'ry steed, the mule, and camel shorn.
O that the echo of our grief might pass
The Hellespont to Asia! that her loss
Through all her cities, through her vales, and

streams,

Beyond the banks of Ganges might be told!"

As Mindarus departs, the Theban chief
Approaches Leontiades, who spake:

"If there be one, O gen'ral, can replace Masistius wise, that prodery is found, Elean Hegesistratus, of seers

The most renown'd. His penetrating mind
Can from the victim slain, or mystic flight
Of birds, foresee the dark events of time;
Invet'rate foe to Sparta, sore with wrongs,
He comes thy servant."-"Opportune he comes,"
Replies Mardonius. "In the rites of Greece
Ten hecatombs, before the Sun descends,
Shall to Masistius bleed an off'ring high.
I will engage this augur at a price
Beyond his wishes; let his skill decide,
When to give battle, and avenge my friend.
Collect your Grecian artists; instant build
A cenotaph in your Dircæan grove,
Where that pure fountain trills a mournful note.
There shall Masistius in his name survive
Among the Greeks; his last remains, embalm'd,
Among his fathers shall in Susa rest."

The Theban goes. Statirus next appears; Th' afflicted hero greets the weeping youth: "Ah! poor Statirus! thou hast lost thy lord, I lost my friend, her bulwark Asia lost. The sacred clay to Artamanes bear, Left in Trachiniæ chief. His pious love. (Who did not love Masistius?) will convey To distant Sestos his embalm'd remains, Thence o'er the narrow Hellespont, to reach His native Asia, and his father's tomb. How did he fall, Statirus? Did he send To me no counsel from his dying lips?" "No," answer'd quick th' Athenian; "from his "These," in a sigh the faithful page began, Take down Leonidas." A stedfast look [cross" Were his last accents. 'Let Mardonius think

How brief are life's enjoyments. Virtue lives
Through all eternity. By virtue earn'd
Praise too is long-Melissa, grant me thine'."
"Commend me to Melissa," starting, spake
The son of Gobryas.
"From the shameful cross
Bid Artamanes in her presence free
Leonidas the Spartan. Now perform
Another act of duty to thy lord;
Despoil my head of all its curling pride;
Slight sacrifice to grief-but ev'ry limb,
Lopt from this body, and its mangled flesh
Shall in the dust be scatter'd, ere I quit
My chase of great revenge." Concluding here,
He strides impetuous like a stately ram,
Lord of the flock new-shorn. His giant guard
Enclose him round; th' innumerable host
Attend him, all divested of their hair,
In howling anguish to an altar huge,
By hasty hands constructed. Deep the earth
Around is hollow'd, deep is drench'd with blood.
Ten hundred sable victims heap the ground.
Now gen'ral silence reigns, as o'er the main
In winter, when Halcyonè laments
Her Ceyx lost, and Folus, her sire;
By pity soften'd, all the air is calm,
While she sits brooding on her watry nest.
Amidst a cloud of frankincense the priest
Of Elis, Hegesistratus, performs
The rites of divination; awful thus
At length unfolds the mysteries of time:
"Hear, all ye nations; great Mardonius, hear;
Th' Asopian channel is the line of fate;
The host, which passes, falls; success will crown
Th' assail'd; th' assailant is to slaughter doom'd."
The multitude, discourag'd by the death
Of their belov'd Masistius, hear in joy;
Not so Mardonius at revenge delay'd.
Inaction aggravates his pain; his tent
Receives him. Solitary there, like Night
Within her cavern, thus he feeds his grief:
"Ambition curb; let virtue be thy pride.'
So spake Masistius, when we parted last
To meet no more-I feel ambition cold,
Benumb'd by sorrow- Let Mardonius think,
How brief are life's enjoyments;' so thy fate,
Dear friend, evinces-Life itself is short;
Its joys are shorter; yet the scanty span
Adversity can lengthen, till we loathe.
If, on the brilliant throne of Xerxes plac'd,
I held the orient and Hesperian worlds
My vassals, could the millions in my host
Compel the adamantine gate of death
To render back my friend? O tortur'd heart!
Which burn'st with friendship, of thy gen'rous flame
Th' inestimable object is no more.

What then is greatness? What th' imperial robe,
The diadem and sceptre? Could you fill
The void, his endless absence hath produc'd
In my sad bosom? Were ye mine how vain
The acquisition, which my grief would loathe,
And, wak'd by grief, let honour timely shun,
Lest from his grave Masistius should arise
To shake my pillow with his nightly curse.
Not hecatombs on hecatombs of bulls
Heap'd on his manes, not the votive hair,
Nor fun'ral moan of nations, could avail
To moderate his ire; nor all the pow'r
Of empires join'd to empires guard my sleep."
At length he sinks in slumber, not compos'd,
But wanders restless through the wild of dreams.

BOOK XXV.

ERE thus each augur in the diff'rent camps
Unmann'd the soldier by religious dread,
Euboea's coast Sicinus had regain'd.
That peopled island's force of ships and arms
Themistocles had muster'd. Oreus held
The ready chief, expecting weighty news
From Aristides, which Sicinus swift
Imparts. To him Themistocles: "My friend,
I ask no more; the assembled host of Greece
Hath fix'd Mardonius on th' Asopian verge;
A hasty conflict Aristides shuns;
Then shall the blow, I meditate, be struck,
Ere thy reverted passage can transmit
To him my greetings. Stay and see my oars
For infamous Thessalia dash the waves;
Her Aleuadian race of tyrants foul,
Friends to barbarians, traitors to the Greeks,
Shall feel my scourge. Her plenty I will bar
Against Mardonius; famine shall invade
His tents, and force him to unequal fight."

He gives command; the signal is uprear'd
For embarkation. All Euboea pours
Her sons aboard, and loads the groaning decks.
From his Cleora Hyacinthus parts,
Brave Haliartus from his new-espous'd
Acanthè. Lo! each female seeks the beach,
Spectatress eager of th' alluring man,
Whose artful eye could summon ev'ry grace
To fascinate both sexes, and his wiles
Arm with enchantment. Beauteous and august
Like Cybelè, prime goddess, turret-crown'd,
Source of th' ethereal race, his consort lifts
Above the rest her countenance sublime.
By her own offspring, and the pledges dear
Of Aristides, which her hand receiv'd
At Salamis, and cherish'd like her own,
She stands encircled, her embarking lord
Accosting thus: "Unfavourable winds,
Or Fortune's frown, I fear not. All the gods
Of earth and ocean, who delighted view
The virtuous brave, contending for their laws
With lawless tyrants, will combine to bless
Themistocles and Aristides link'd

In harmony of counsels. See, dear lord,
His and thy children interweave their hands;
Thy sure success I augur from their smiles."
"I from Timothea's," gallantly replies
The parting chief. "This union is thy work;
Thine be the praise from thankful Greece preserv'd."
He said, and lightly to his vessel pass'd;
While ev'ry sail was op'ning to the wind.

Euboea, where she fronts the Malian shore,
Beneath a promontory's quiet lee
Protects the fleet benighted. Here the son
Of Neocles aboard his galley calls
His pupil Hyacinthus, whom he thus
Instructs: "Young hero, since Cleora's love
Could not detain thee from the lists of fame,
Fame thou shalt win. Thessalia's nearest bounds
I from Spercheos in Trachiniæ's bay

Mean to invade. Nicanor and thyself
With your Carystian force, Nearchus brave
With his Chalcidians, must a distant course
To Potidea take, whose valiant race
The winter siege of great Masistius foil'd.
Forewarn'd by due intelligence from me, [mouth
They will augment your numbers. Through the

Of fam'd Enipeus, Potidæan zeal
Will guide your helms to rich Larissa's walls,
Thessalia's helpless capital, whose youth
Attend Mardonius. Land, and burn th' abode
Of Aleuadian Thorax, who conducts

At Amarantha's suit my old abode;

A virtuous princess from a sickly couch
My care hath rais'd, Sandaucè, in those walls
Long resident with me. Two days are past
Since Artamanes, governing these tracts,

The foe through Greece. O'er all the region spread; | Heard of a navy on Thessalia's coast,
Where'er thou seest an Aleuadian roof,
The residence of traitors hurl to earth;

The flocks and herds from ev'ry pasture sweep,
From ev'ry store th' accumulated grain,
Support of Asia's myriads. O! recall
Thy late achievements on the bloody fields
Of Chalcis, and of Oreus. They, who brav'd
Thy native coast, of Demonax the friends,
Now in their own Thessalia lie thy spoil;
On their wide ruins build thee trophies new."
Commission'd thus, the animated youth
With each Carystian, each Chalcidic prow,
By morning sails. Three days the Attic chief,
Skreen'd in a harbour nigh Cenæum's point,
Rests on his anchors. So, by thickets hid
In fell Hyrcania, nurse of rav'nous broods,
The tiger lurks, and meditates unseen
A sudden sally on his heedless prey.

And with his force, though slender, took the field
To guard Larissa. Your descent unmans
The few remaining Persians in the fort;
All with Sandaucè and her children flew
To my protection; mercy to obtain
Became my charge; her terrours will disperse,
Soon as she knows Themistocles is nigh."

The army halts. Trachiniæ's gates admit
Cecropia's hero, Medon, and the son
Of Lygdamis. Sandaucè they approach,
Sandaucè late in convalescent charms
Fresh as a May-blown rose, by pallid fear
Now languid as a lily beat with rain,
Till she discovers with transported looks
Her Salaminian guardian; then the warmth
Of gratitude, redoubling all her bloom,
Before him throws her prostrate. To him ran
The recollecting children, who embrace

The fourth gay dawn with fresh'ning breezes curls Their benefactor's knees. She thus unfolds

The Malian waters. In barbaric flags
The wily chief apparelling his masts
Fallacious, ere the horizontal Sun

Couch'd on the ocean, fills with hostile prows
The wide Sperchean mouth. Along the vales
Innumerable carriages display

The plenty huge for Asia's camp amass'd.
Th' encircling mountains all their echoes blend
In one continu'd sound with bleating flocks,
With bellowing herds, and dissonant uproar
Of their conductors; whom Thessalia sent,
Whom all the extent of Thracia, and the realm
Of Amarantha's lord. Th' affrighted hinds
Desert their charge. Trachinia's neighb'ring gates
With fugitives are throng'd. Lo! Cleon plants
His bold Eretrian banners on the strand;
The Styrians form; Eudemus bounds ashore,
Geræstians follow; then auxiliars new,
The subjects late of Demonax; the troops
Of Locrian Medon, Delphian Timon land,
Themistocles the last; whose chosen guard
Of fifty Attic, fifty Spartan youths,
Still sedulous and faithful close the rear.
They reach'd in order'd march Trachinian walls,
Whose gates unclos'd. Majestical advanc'd
A form rever'd by universal Greece,
Prais'd by each tongue, by ev'ry eye admir'd,
The Oileau priestess of th' immortal Nine,
The goddess-like Melissa. Medon swift,
With Haliartus, met her sacred step.
Her naine divulg'd from ev'ry station call'd
The gazing chiefs, Themistocles the first;
Whom, by her brother pointed out to view,
She thus address'd: "Themistocles, give ear,
And thou, O Medon, whom, a stranger long
To my desiring eyes, they see restor❜d.
Well may you wonder, that a hostile fort
Melissa's hand delivers to your pow'r.
There is a Persian worthy to be rank'd
Among the first of Grecians. Just, humane,
Thy captive, Medon, amply hath discharg'd
His price of ransom. Nine revolving moons
Beheld Masistius guardian of my hill
In purity of rev'rence to my fane,
My person, my dependents. I forsook

Her lips, whose tuneful exclamation charms: "O, my protector"- Interposing swift, His ready hand uplifts her from the ground.

"Do not disgrace me, thou excelling fair," He said; "to leave such beauty thus depress'd Would derogate from manhood." She replies:

"Forbear to think my present captive lot
Hath humbled thus Sandaucè. No, the weight
Of obligation past, my rescu'd babes
In Salamis, myself from horrour sav'd,
Have bent my thankful knee. No fears debase
My bosom now; Themistocles I see,
In him a known preserver." Melting by,
Melissa, Medon, Haliartus, shed

The tend'rest dews of sympathy. In look
Compassionate, but calm, the chief rejoins:

"Suggest thy wishes, princess, and command
My full compliance." She these accents sighs:
"Ye gen'rous men, what pity is not due
To eastern women! Prize, ye Grecian dames,
Your envy'd state. When your intrepid lords
In arms contend with danger on the plain,
You in domestic peace are left behind
Among your letter'd progeny, to form
Their ductile minds, and exercise your skill
In arts of elegance and use.
Alas!
Our wretched race, in ignorance and sloth
By Asia nurtur'd, like a captive train,
In wheeling dungeons with our infants clos'd,
Must wait th' event of some tremendous hour,
Which, unpropitious, leaves us on the field
A spoil of war. What myriads of my sex
From Greece to distant Hellespont bestrew
The ways, and whiten with their bleaching bones
The Thracian wilds! Spercheos views the tomb
Of Ariana, hapless sister, laid

In foreign mould! My portion of distress
You know, benignant guardians, who assuag'd
My suff rings. Then to quit the direful scene,
Revisiting my native soil, to rest
Among my children, and instruct their youth,
As kind Melissa hath instructed mine,
Were sure no wish immoderate or vague.
But Artamanes"—Blushing, trembling, here
She paus'd. Melissa takes the word: "Sweet friend,

Let vice, not virtue blush. Cecropian chief,
Her soft attention well that youth deserves,
She all his constancy and care. Their hands
Are pledg'd; th' assent of Asia's king alone
Is wanting, which Mardonius hath assur'd
To Artamanes, flow'r of Asia's peers.
Him, with unequal force, to battle march'd
Against thy ranks, which never have been foil'd,
She knows, and trembles." Artfully replies
Themistocles: "Sandaucè may prevent
This danger. Let her messenger convey
A kind injunction, that the noble youth,
Whose merit I have treasur'd in my breast,
May sheath his fruitless weapons, and, return'd
To her, aboard my well-appointed keel
With her embarking, seek their native soil."
The princess hears, and joyfully provides
A messenger of trust. Assembling now
His captains, thus Themistocles ordains:
"Friends of Eubœa, soon as Phoebus dawns
Your progress bend to Larissæan tow'rs;
Your chief is Cleon. Hyacinthus join;
To your united force the foe must yield.
Save Artamanes; bring him captive back,
But not with less humanity than care.
Accomplish'd Medon, Haliartus, vers'd

In Eta's neighb'ring wilds, your Locrians plant
Among the passes; once secur'd, they leave
Us at our leisure to contrive and act.
Thee, honour'd seer of Delphi, at my side
In this Trachinian station I retain."

By op'ning day each leader on his charge
Proceeds. Themistocles inspects the vale,
Constrains the peasants from unnumber'd cars
Aboard his fleet to lade the golden grain.

Before Thermopyla the Locrian files Appear. From Eta's topmast peak, behold, O'er Medon's head a vulture wings his flight, Whom to a cross beside the public way Th' Oilean hero's curious eye pursues. "Oh! stay thy rav'nous beak," in anguish loud Cries Haliartus. "Shudder while thou hear'st, Son of Oileus; on that hideous pile The bones of great Leonidas are hung."

Then Medon's cool, delib'rate mind was shook By agitation, to his nature strange.

His spear and buckler to the ground he hurl'd;
Before th' illustrious ruins on his knee
He sunk, and thus in agony exclaim'd:

"Should this flagitious profanation pass
Unpunish'd still, th' existence of the gods
Were but a dream. O, loug-enduring Jove!
Thy own Herculean offspring canst thou see
Defac'd by vultures, and the parching wind,
Yet wield resistless thunder?-But thy ways
Are awfully mysterious; to arraign
Thy heaviest doom is blasphemy. Thy will
For me reserv'd the merit to redeem
These precious relics; penitent I own
My rashness; thankful I accept the task.
"O mighty spirit! who didst late inform
With ev'ry virtue that disfigur'd frame,
With ev'ry kind affection prov'd by me,
The last distinguish'd object of thy care,
When it forbad me to partake thy fate,
The life, thy friendship sav'd, I here devote
To vindicate thy manes. Not the wrongs
Of gen'ral Greece, not Locris giv'n to flames,
Not the subversion of my 'father's house,
F'er with such keen resentment stung my heart,

As this indignity to thee." He said,
And, with the aid of Haliartus, free'd
The sacred bones; Leonteus, and the prime
Of Locris, frame with substituted shields
Th' extemporeanous bier. Again the chief:
"Leonteus, Haliartus, rest behind;
Achieve th' important service, which the son
Of Neocles enjoins. The pious charge
Be mine of rend'ring to Melissa's care
These honour'd relics." Now in measur'd pace
The warlike bearers tread; their manly breasts
Not long withhold the tribute of their sighs
Ingenuous; tears accompany their steps.
His sister in Trachiniæ, Medon soon

Approaches; glad she hears him, and replies:

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Hail! brother, hail! thou chosen by the gods
From longer shame to rescue these remains,
Which once contain'd whate'er is good and great
Among the sons of men. Majestic shade!
By unrelenting laws of Dis forbid

To enter, where thy ancestors reside;
Who, seed of Jove, to their Elysian joys
Expect thee, most illustrious of the race.
Amidst thy wand'rings on the banks of Styx,
Dost thou recall Melissa's dirge of praise
O'er thee, preparing by a glorious death
To save thy country? O! unbury'd still,
Did not Melissa promise to thy dust
Peace in her temple? An atrocious king
Hath barr'd awhile th' accomplishment; thy friend,
Thy soldier, now will ratify my word.
Soon to Lycurgus shall thy spirit pass,
To Orpheus, Homer, and th' Ascræan sage,
Who shall contend to praise thee in their bow'rs
Of amaranth and myrtle, ever young
Like thy renown. In Eta's fane these bones,
Dear to the Muses, shall repose, till Greece,
Amid her future triumphs, hath decreed
A tomb and temple to her saviour's fame."
This high oblation of pathetic praise,
Paid by her holy friend, Sandaucè notes
Attentive; seldom from Melissa's eye
Was she remote. Her eunuchs she deputes
To bring a coffer large of od'rous wood
Inlaid with pearl, repository due

To such divine remains. In time appears
Th' Athenian gen'ral to applaud the deed,
While thus the mighty manes he invokes :

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Hear, thou preserver of thy country, hear! Lo! in his palms of Salamis the son Of Neocles salutes thee. From a hand, Which hath already half aveng'd thy death, Accept of decent rites. Thy virtue sav'd A nation; they hereafter shall complete Thy fun'ral honours, and surround thy tomb With trophies equal to thy deathless name."

He ceas'd. Her mantle on the solemn scene Night from her car in dusky folds outspread.

Three mornings pass. Anon Sperchean banks Re-echo shouts of triumph, while the vales Are clad in arms. Lo Cleon is return'd, Uplifting bloodless ensigns of success, And thus accosts Themistocles: "Thy prize, This Persian lord, receive; our hasty march O'ertook his rear. From Larissæan tow'rs, A recent conquest, Hyacinthus, join'd By Potidæans and Olynthian spears, Was then in sight.

The herald I detach'd

With fair Sandaucè's message, and thy terms Of peace and safety; Artamanes found

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