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Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too larcje to be entirely included in one exposure are filmeJ beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames as requ:red. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent Atre filmds d des taux de reduction diffdrents. LorsCfUe le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clich6, il est filmd d partir de Tangle sup6rieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants iilustrent la mdthode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 'IcA^ "' A LEGEND OF MARATHON. XaipzTS' VIK&IXSM. / 7 ^^^^^^K'^ \ «— «^ //r^^^M-' c7 z 1 « 9 •ti!ill*4^Wlto*^^««B»* MEMORANDUM. A SEPTUAGENARIAN, afflicted in his youth with a verse making malady in an acute form, finds among his ancient rhyming diversions the following "Legend," which seemed to his partial judgment less worthy of cremation than the residue. It is to him a memory of the thoughts and dreams of " sweet three-and- twenty," and it is offered to the perusal of a few private friends. The "Legend" is that of Eucles the soldier who, after being wounded in the battle, ran from Marathon to Athens (22 miles) and fell dead as he spake the words " Rejoice ! we triumph ! " {Xaiperv viK&fiev). He has probably viewed the architectural glory of Athens as of the age of Pericles rather than of Marathon. Ji¥^?of aJii5g.'aLHV-'-Wk«ra»»w!n A LEGEND OF MARATHON. K.a!peTt lUKUfiev. ClITY of Gods ! Upon thy storied brow, / Day's last magnificence is streaming now ; O'er earth and sea thy sunset glories weave Their arch of s])lendoiir round the dying eve — A violet flush upon Hym^^ttus' steep, A lingering crimson on ^"Egiua's deep, Thron'd in thy place o^ pride, the sunset's kiss Fires thy white crest, shrine-crown'd Acropolis. — The East grows dim, but round thy niarl)led height. Yet floats the filmy crown of violet light, The sunset charm — the air-born splendour given To make thy lucid sky tit mask for heaven. Faultless and pure, each shafted temi)le's crest Sleeps on the violet air's pellucid breast — Vision of beauty— born in poet's heart, Shaped into life by old enchantment's ;irt ! High above all in splendour soft and warm, Looms the ttill semblance of a martial form, A warrior Phantom — Queen-like and alone, The champion Goddess on her Attic throne ; The dying sr.n yet leaves one burning glance, To flame upon her zenith-pointing lance As in her grasp a lightning flash it glow'd — So watch'd Athense o'er her loved abode ! The rose flush fades on eastern hill and stream The earliest stars du-otigh twilight mantle gleam, And the full summer moon hangs fair nnd still On the far outline of Pentelic hill — /- ,( * 6 As if, in truth, the minstrel legend told The graceful fiction of the nights of old, How, mortal-like upon that sylvan brow, She paus'd to hear an earthly lover's vow. Endymion ! Endymion ! High on the gi'aspy pei«> of Latnius dreaming ! The white moon bathes thy graceful form In radiance soft and warm — Orbing a beauteous shape of God-like seeming ; Kouse thee to waking bliss ! Thy fair lip woos the kiss Of Artemis ! White-orbed Artemis ! Linger — oh, linger in thy beauty still On this green Attic hill — Latmus and Love awa:<-. thee everywhere, When deepening twilight hails thy beauteous light, Silvering the eastern height. Aptest of hours for passion's vow and prayer, Love's legends sing no sweeter myth than this ; Endymion — Artemis ! Half circled in the chestnut wood That round its flickering shadow flung. Just o'er Ilissus' starlit flood A light aerial fabric sprung — A mingled shape, half fane, half bower. Rose the fair structure's vernal grace — A spot where music, scent and flower Should greet the Genius of the place. In the rich moon light's calm repose — All beautiful the fabric rose Light as the fllmy shade they flung. Graceful the snow-white columns sprung, ■-■i^m rmr »i»»«»'i*-vf- y I 3 • 3US light, this With sculptur'cl base and fluted side Crovvu'd with acanthus' mimic pride — Round glistening freize and polished shaft A wilderness of roses langh'd, Clasping the column's leafy crown- Flinging green tangled tresses down Till, Vjuried in thoir glossy twine The eye half lost the tlowery shrine. No dread Olympian there would dwell Screen'd in the lowly greer wood shade, Where Love alone its vow would tell, And flowers the only offerings made— Seem'd it the home of some kind Power Content to bide by stream and flower. Mayhap some Shape of wave or grove Some phantasy of youthful love Whose voice might haunt the lowly shrine Half fanciful— but still divine— From singing fount and whispering trees : — Voicing ^olian harmonies — The Dryad glanc'd through green old wood The Naiad sprang from sparkling flood- Till forest mount and green recess Had each its haunting Loveliness. The old Greek, dreaming in the shade Of bower, beside some limpid wave, Drank the sweet sounds its music made, As voice the local Genius gave — The cataract leap'd joyous down — The red bolt clove the thunder cloud — The tempest smote the forest crown — The mountain rose through misty shroud- Vision and Power and thunder sound Took Godhead's form and altar found. It was a creed for Earth's fresh prime — Her Morning-land of young romance. i I t M Tuneful with earliest Minstrel's iliyme— Flushed in her Sun-God's kindling glance- It was a web of earthly frame Lit by a Glory, downward given ; Its woof was Beauty, Valour, Fame- It's hues, what Poets dream'd of heaven. And kindling eye and bended knee Worship'd in rapt idolatry ! It was a creed of light and ulade Twin'd in the peaceful myrtle shade ; Yet sprung the Youth from noble race Of martial fame and lofty place ; Brave deeds and well won honors mark His stately sire, the Polemarch.* * The War Archon. 11 High dreams were his — aspirings bold — Child of the old Athenian mould. The thoughtful brain, the high puls'd heart, The slave of beauty's dazzling art — That watch 'd the tinted clouds float by, O'er crystal wave or sunset sky, That watch'd the Satyr chase the Faun, The Dryad's footstep skim the lawn — That saw the graceful Naiad rise Through noonday fountain's rainbow dyes. The fading of evp's lingering light. The first star, tremulously bright, The noon-tide hush on forest bowers, The voice of streams — the breath of flowers. For him all earth and lucid heaven Seemed but for Beauty's worship given. But when the War- Bard's fiery lay Chas'd the soft dreams of j)eace away, O'er the bold notes his spirit heard The trumpet call — the charging word, And kindling heart and throbbing breath Ask'd Victor's crown or Honour's death ! Such are the Maiden and the Youth, Lift not sweet Night thy starry veil. Speak not— thou cold eyed prophet. Truth. Their love is yet a fairy tale — Vex not their dream of peace and rest — Their .star is setting in the We^t ! * * * * # War from the East I The startling 'larum fills The fear-wing'd echoes of the Attic hills — From Thraciau peak to Sparta's farthest cave Riaigs the dread tale — " the Persians on the wave ! " Woe to Atlienw ! Dust on crown and shrine — The Gods frown dark on Cecrops fated line ! Last eve from Andros o'er the ^gean deep The watch beheld the Orient tempest sweep 12 And toward tlie Attic shore slow heaving on Seek thy lone Bay— yet noteless Marachon— Thou art awake ! bright spirit of the Free — The old Greek's life— immortal Liberty ! The dame burns clear on thine eternil shrine, The bold winds (ioat thine ancient battle sign, Flash up red beacon from the W^r-God's height- Speak thy dread te idlings to the ear of night— From far Laconian Cape to Deli)hi's steep O'er the brave land the martial summons p.weep- Age to the rampart — woman to the shrine — The land's stern Maidiood to the battle line ! » Sun-set on Marathon ! — The tinted Bay, Heaves with the Persian^ war ships vast array — O'er the green shore is pour'd the Orient Hood Chieftain and serf in glittering multitude, Far up along the western barrier hills A scanty band the mountain passes tills There, watchful Athens, camps thy banded might There thv last guardians wait the morrow's fight. Slow sank the lingering beam— Ten thousand eyes Watch'd with last glance how summer sunset dies. On you high rock behind the Greek nrray. A soldier gazes at the jiarting day. Far down the golden track a distant be un May float, Ilissus, on thy darkening stream. That peucill'd flush so tremulously fine Must gild that happy spot— the lover's shrine. Another hour, and soft eyed stars will hover O'er that sweet haunt of loving maid and lover — 'Tis there— young Dreamer! When thy faltering arm May need the magic of some potent charm, Then let Love's vision to thy memory come — Then let the Persian feel, thou strik'st for home 1 VA I on ►n — I'lne, sign, height- ight— p.weep le — ne ! * ai'ray- tiooa ed might jv's tight. sand eyes inset dies. m am. ihrino. over d lover — faltering ai'in rm, 3 me — for home ! # Night on the Attic hills ! — Night on the darken'd West ! Night of lmi)ending sorrow — brooding ills — Fears — hopes, and fierce unrest. The air is heavy with the moaning surge Gathering to thunder on the ^goan verge — Free homes and shrines — a Nation's upwaril Life Trembling upon the is-iues of the strife — • Must Progress, Geuius, Arts in matin glow, Sink in barbaric overflow 1 Freedom's fair realm in slavery's grasp down-press'd 1 Night on the darken'd West ! Dawn on the Attic hills ! The supreme hour draws nigh. Not thus the awakening World its weird fulfils — Not thus must Freedom die — Not thus the ripening harvest of free thought Be reaped and crush'd to naught — War's crimson annals wait their noblest name, Man's victory of holiest fame — Throujrh fearless hearts the land's rich life blooi thrills, 'Dawn on the Attic hills ! Hushed the lone Bay — save on the darken'd shore. Where waves sang faint in melancholy roar, Dark floods of shadow in the changeful sky. With Morn's far outi)Osts battling silently ; No warlike breathing stirr'd the quiet air, No trumpet told a world in arms was there, Tlie Persian thousands on the sands were still, The Hope of Athens girt the distant hill. Tiie Satrap sluniber'd in his silken tent — The hardy Greek on grassy pillow bent — Far off on Rhaninai's* sla-ine night's darkest cloud * Temple of Nemesis at Rhamna^ or Rhamrios. 14 Hung 'neath the failing stars a giant shroud, A B there its awful Queen her wings unfurl'd. Black Nemesis, the 'Veu^;er of the World ! Look out ! Along Euboea's mountain height Floats a cold stream of melancholy light — Seaward it spreads. Gray Ocha's barren steep Heaves its huge shape above the leaden deep. The mists grow pale, the mountain's kindling pride Strij)s the grey mantle from his giant side. On ghostly peak, and o'er the waves dim blue, Breathes the faint semblance of a warmer hue, T*^ e first glad smile — as Eos' touch unbar3 The gates of Morn to blind the failing stars — Wake bird and flower, green Earth and Ocean's sweep, The blush of Delos kindles o'er the deep ! Magnificently calm the silent Dawn With pomp and state and flush comes journeying on. Gorgeous and slow, like some high Glory's birth. Its arch of splendour spans tho dewy Earth j Rise from the wave ! Give earth another day, To light her stormy annals — far away Down the red waves of war — and when the strife Grows dark for Freedom battling for her life, Then shower thy blaze of Victory upon Some glorious field like this — O Sun of Marathon ! The hour draws nigh, yet silence broods On all those voiceless multitudes — Those thousands on the wave — Still sleeps yet noteless Marathon As if its gray hills watch'd alone A solitary grave. A trumpet on the crimson Dav n ! A hundred echoes hurrying on The war-cry's wakening strain. From yon hill fastness seems to rise 15 id, •I'd, ! ht steep eep. ling pride iB. blue, ' hue, r3 ars — )cean's sweep, I urneying on, yr's birth, iirth ; V day, the strife ir life, Marathon ! That burst of martial harmonies, Peak answering peak again ! There, half reveal'd, a stern array Is arming for the battle day — Thy trumpet, Athens, rends the air Thy gallant host is gathering then And mountain crest and crag and brake Bid their own slumbering echoes wake- To swell the glorious call ; Gray Rhamnre's vengeance-shrining piles— Pentelicus, thy green defiles Answer exultant all ! High o'er the Athenians' silent bands Their Chief— a ra^Hant Phantom — stands, Helm, cuirass, shield and falchion drawn Resplendent in the golden dawn — On yon low hillock's grassy mound. As Genius of the battle ground — A Glory, radiant from afar — Incarnate archetype of War — That dreaming Victors see ! Seems it some shape of old renown. The Pythian stoop'd from Delphi's crown ; The War-God from his hill come down In Heaven's bright panoply ! High o'er his glittering crest, above In the blue air the bird of Jove Wheels on exulting wing — A shining star of flame, up borne In the rich golden light of morn. He floats — that bold eyed King ! High on a blue Thessalian peak He caught the pale morn's earliest streak, And hither wing'd his fiery way To watch how heroes strive to-day. Hark his shrill scream ! his sounding wheel, As revel !in|.' in the flash of steel, ■-S-B^KH^ 16 His paean rings on high ! With beating hearts the warriors note The glorious omen o'er them float, x\nd murmur " Victory ! " The sunlight floods the golden sands Gods ! 'Tis a dread— a glorious sight— The wakening of the Persian bands. The Orient arming for tlie tight ! List ! from the Satrap's glittering tent A mighty trumpet voica is sent And down the uprising lines, afar, Answers each brazen tongue of war. From fleet and camp the Persian pours His bright ranks on the sounding shores ; Wave upon wave— a sparkling flood A mail'd and banner'd mulitude— Tribe after tribe— the hurrying lines Press where each Chieft tin's standard shines: First Persia— thine "Immn-tals" band The veteran warriors of the land, The " Great King's" guards, triumphant rear The gold pomegranates on the spear * Next in array the gallant Mede jSpeeds to the front with martial speed : '^/■^-^^^/TheBactrian from his desert came / With swarthy brow and glance of flame ; And Scythia from her forests pour'd The Sacse's tierce and r(>stless horde The Thracian came from Stry men's rills, Chaldea from her starlit hills, The Parthian flll'd his deadly quiver, With reeds that waved by Oxus' river— And Caspian lake and Euxine isles Ponr'd to the war their savage files. There the Sagartian Shepherds band The lass', whirl with deadly hand * See Hevodotds. 17 Liies b rear I s, Each vassal tribe its warriors sent, From Cissian waste — from Arab tent — Wild steed and wilder lord — The Eastern world in arms ! — to seek On Atdc soil the heroic Greek The patriot's feaxless sword ! Hush'd the vast host — no warlike sound Breaks from the camp's extended bound. Mark ! where yon sea-rock's barren steep Looks eastward o'er the kindling deep — Twelve radiant Shapes stand silent there Like statues in the golden air, Round each tall form a robe of snow Floats with a fair and holy glow, O'er each bowed head the myrtle's fold Clasps the tiara's burnish'd gold — Knowest thou, those ancient rites 1 No vaulted arch their praise confines. Not theirs the pomp of labour'd shrines, Their Sun-God boasts a nobler home His own broad Heaven's illumin'd dome — His shrines the mountain heights — Green Earth and dawn-flush'd Sea — Bold, the rude creed their Founder taught From Reason's simple childhood caught; An erring Faith, yet half divine Wandering from Truth's eternal line, But scarce Idolatry ! Simple the rites —Each white stoled Priest Stands gazing on the sun-flush'd East — Whence radiant from his ocean Dawn — Their glorious King comes journeying on. Towards his bright car each hand lifts up In the blue heaven the golden cup — On high the rich libation's pour'd, Tlieir Flame-God's mounting orb's ador'd — Sinks to the earth the mighty host In breathless adoi'ation lost — J j ) 18 And vows are breath 'd and pray'r is said, The Guebre veils his cowering head. Till th'^! dread rites are told — And the awed spirit feels that hour The influence of a present powei' His God, above him, rolled ! Rich sunlight on the upland wolds But o'er each gorge and shailowy pass A fresh spring mist of autumn folds The stern Athenian's gathering mass — Stirs the far foe] Ha ! Scout draw near, Bend low to earth thy watchful ear — The Leader's call — the clash of mail — Break muffled from the filmy veil, Now one long shout — the grey mist i-ound Waves, shuddering at the piercing sound — And all is still — Thy warning speak — "They come — they come, the Greek — the Greek ! Up spring the bright ranks of the East ! The vows are told — ;the rites have ceased — Room — room ! The Satra})'s golden car — Is flashing down the marshall'd war. From tribe to tribe the warnings flow, " Yon blue mist shrouds the charging foe ! " " Mark its grey folds — a martial storm " Is gathering in that misty form ! " It moves — Tall shapes of shadowy gloom, Seem tramping through its cloudy womb. Rings fi'om its depths a sudden clash — Leaps to the sun a lance's flash — One moment more — the breeze hath toss'd The shroud aside that veil'd the host — Shield, cuirass, helm with sudden light Flash to the sun in blinding might — Ten thousand men, array'd for tight. Sweep o'er the brightening lawn ;. I id d— IB Greek ! l- oe lb. iss'd. t 19 No trumpet breathes its stormy notes — No banner'd pomp above them floats — So the stern Greek comes on ! They lialt — one moment — cast around Brief survey of the battle ground — The next — their trumpet chorus peals — Swift into line the column wheels, Down the long lances go ; Forth to the winds their banners' jjiven — One fiery shout they ring to Heaven Then bui'st upon the foe ! The thunder of the charging word Long, long the mountain echoes stirr'd, But ere its martial cadence fell — Fresh war-shouts burst to aid it well — Before the misty lawn he cross'd Tlie bold Greek marshall'd forth his host — The left — Plattea's stern array — Swept downward toward tlie northern bay, And grappled with a countless band From Lydian and Chaldean land. The fierce War-Archon led the right, Skirting the upland's lessening height — And by the eastern marsh's marge Burst on the Mede in stormy ch-irge — Loud swells the battle chorus out. Answering the Centre's onset shout — On burst the Centre's fierce advance With lowerVl targe and levell'd lance — High o'er the ranks each warrior sees Thy glittering crest, Themistocles ! (This field the nurse of thy renown — Blue Salamis thy triumph crown) That fearless war cry on the air Tells, Aristides combats there — No halt — no pause — the fiery van Leaps on the Persian man to man — 20 But ere on helm one falcliion rung, Ere arrow sped, or javelin flung, From the front rank a warlike form Sprang — like the lightning from the storm, And clove with swift and deadly blow The foremost warrior of the foe — Down the bright banner sinks ! A wild shout from th' Athenian line, Brave P]ucles, hails the deed as thine ! Thy blade the first blood drinks — The rush of Persia's charging host Makes answer to the vengeful boast As, fearless in their countless might They grapple in the desperate fight ! On Marathon the day was young When the first battle trumpet rung ; But noon received the westering sun Ere carnage stayed or fight was won. Long, long the Centi-e's stubborn strength Bore the fierce fight's exhausting length. On — on the Orient's warlike flood Press'd in exhaustless multitude. Till faintness seiz'd the thinn'd array — Tired wax'd the arm upraised to slay. Stand fast for home I The foes divide As parted by some rushing tide — They come ! the Cissians, Arabs, l*Iedes. A deluge of impetuous steeds — High o'er their ranks the golden car Tells that the Satrap guides the war ; As bursting through the storm of fight, They dash on Athens' staggering might — Stand fast for home — Down lance and targe- Hurl back the Horsemen's foaming charge, Vain I'allying shouts and Chief's appeals — The pierc'd and shatter'd column reels 21 11, th t, .t— targe- arge, lis — And backwaid borne, retreating slow. Still turning fiercely on the toe, Till the rough ui)lan(l slopes they gain Where crag and hillock break the plain — Broken by goi'ge and i-ocky knoll The eddying tides of battle roll — There, Ijack to back a dosi)erate band Steadfast to death the foe withstand ; Here a stem handfuU flank'd by I'ock Repulse a charging thousand's shock — Rages in fiercer life, the fray, For life — for home — the Greek at bay ! Woe to the Virgin City now, Dust on Athene's ancient brow ! Stern Pallas by her snow-white fane Hears her pale votaries prayer in vain — Unpitying Jove's dread bolt is still Red Mars is silent on his hill — Ilissus 1 let thy wailing flow Sing to the sea the dirge of woe — Woe to Athenre, woe ! Sudden the headlong onsets stay, The roar of battle dies away — As, upward from the distant plain, Floats a far trumpets' warning strain — Then herald hoi'semen spurring fast With waving arm and bugle blast — Till down the plain retreating slow. Backward the refluent war-tides dow. Instant as paused the assailing storm, The bold Greeks scatter'd ranks reform, Press to the front, and gaze afar Down the red landscape of the war — Glad vision theirs ! Far down the plain Rings their own war-cry's kindling strain. Westward, Plattea's gallant ranks 22 Are charging home on Persia's Hunks — Stern shouts ure echoing from the right, Where tlie War Archon heads tlie fight — And mail and targe and tall war-horso Shrink from his charging spearmen's course. With fresh-won strength — with hope new found The centre treads the battle ground, With sore-thinn'd ranks, still firm and hold, Down the red plain — the dead scarce cold — O'er slain and dying, friend and foe — The refluent wave of wai- must flow ; Pause not, brave hearts, though conu'ade hands Are waved to greet your passing bands ; Though from the dying and the dead Some comrade lifts a fainting head ; And Life's last gladness lights the eye That sees your vengeful ranks sweep by ; Then sinking back to happy death ; Ye hear him gasp with latest breath A faint- voiced " Victory ! " Before them gathering stern and fast At chieftain's call and trumpet blast The Orient's scattered lines unite ■ To swell their centre's rallying might — The refluent wave of broken ranks Streams inward from the vanquished flanks. Dust and gore on panited vest. Gay plume shorr from stately crest. Blood on point of standard lance — For pennon lit by sunbeam's glance — But bravely ranged in gallant show Their wall of steel confronts the foe. Once more the war-flames leap to life — Once more they close in deadliest strife ; Sudden — some voice of fearful power Swells o'er the battle's stormiest hour. 23 se. 7 found W, hands lanks, B ; There ! toward the right ! what eclioes speak. Murk there the tumult of the Cireek I What startles tlieir confusM array, Shout they in triumph or dismay ? Now, all is hushed — the battle roar Breaks from the awe-struck ranks no more. The summer waves uj)on tliM shore Are almost hoard to How ! Gods of our faitli 1 What awftd Shade* Oigantic in the sunlight made, O'er silent hosts and ranks dismayed, Is floating stern and slow ! Jove ! See yon temple on tl , height Hath oped its gates with hidden miglit, The westering Sun's declining light Streams through its ancient arch — And, flashing in that splendour warm. Armed as some God of War and Storm, Floats down a glorioiis Hero-Form In slow and stately march ! The right arm wields a giant lance Bright with the living lightning's glance The splendour of his phantom shield Streams a tierce glory o'er the field — Round his proud helm the laurel crown Speaks of high deeds of old renown — Down to tlie Athenians awestruck Imnd He moves a Phantom of Command — A Chief in panoply ! Through the hush'l ranks, a low deep tone, From man to man is whispering thrown, " 'Tis He ! 'Tis He ! the form divine. The sculptur'd Hero of the shrine — The God ! 'Tis He ! 'Tis He ! Our Theseus from th' Olympian dome * The old tradition of the appearance of the phantom of Theseus at Marathon. 24 Hath stoop'd to guard his ancient home. 'Tis Theseus ! Victory ! " On floats the Shape toward Persia's host In blank amaze and horror lost — The giant lance, he poises slow Round it red lightnings stream and glow — As, wrathful at the shrinking foe, He hurls its terrors on ! There was a blaze of bliudiug light A splendour, kindling plain and height — It pass'd — the war bands strain their siglit — The Phantom Shape is gone ! But thousands heard the distant fane, Olose with a crash, its gates again - And ere the awful silence broke A glorious harmony awoke — A swell of triumph notes, As o'er the Athenians gladden'd bands. From harp strings swept by viewless hands. An lo PiBan floats ! There was silence fallen on that vast array. On the soldiers shout, on the war steed's neigh ; Lance and standard neglected hung Reins were slackened and bows unstrung. Till a voice from the Grecian centre broke — And it seem'd that a God in its passion spoke. '' Arise ! Arise ! from the height of Heaven " There is aid sent down, there is victory given — " On Comrades on — in the path fresh trod ** By your Hero's step, by your Warrior God ! " From the rallied centre there burst a cry The conquering wings shout " Victory," As the storm blast wakens the heaving seas, They sprang at the call of Miltiades ! And burst on the foe in a charging flood — A tempest hurl'd on a crashing wood — I 111 25 Vain, vain, the rush of the Cissian steed ; Vain the last hot charge of the gaHant Mede — Where the mountain brook to the marsh enhirged, On the Parthian bows hath Platroa charged, And swept the ranks of the archei-s' pride To a grave in the shoals of its reedv tide ; The Lydian shrank from the reddening field ; Vain was the fence of the Chaldee shield, High in front of each charging band, The Battle Phantom yet seemed to stand — But the fight still raged where the Satrap's car Urged the faltering ranks to the front of war — Till a lance from the hand of young Cymon flew, Hurl'd to its mark, both strong and true — And the gallant Persian's bright crest sank down, And dust was strewn on the Satrap's crown !* High to the Heavens, the patriot shout Of triumph, leaps exulting out I As o'er the plains confus'tl and toss'd Breaks from its ranks the Orient host. With fear-wing'd limbs and pallid lips, Straining to gain the sheltering ships — Round the tall galleys raged the strife — One side for victory — one for life. On rushed the Greek with lighted brand To fire or stay with grappling hand ; High mounts the fiame — the beaten host Sees the last hope of safety lost. For life — for life ! One desperate charge Clears the bold foeman from the marge Of wave and shore. One stalwart form Stands wrestling with the warlike storm ; And loudest o'er that bloodiest close, Callimaclius ! thy challenge rose. A sound, rtniember'd well • Artaphernea. 26 One hand arrests a galley's course, One smites the foe with trenchant force, A bright axe gleams in downward stroke- Yet once again the war-cry woke And died upon the failing breath, As droop'd the Hero's crest in death — So the War-Archon fell ! Far from the fight yon green hill's crest Bounds the fair prospect to the West — High o'er its wooded summit, winds The path the hunter's footstep finds. Treading the maze of swelling hills, The nursing fount of Attic rills. And severing from the eastern i)lains Fair Athens and her marbled fanes. And summer afternoon shines fair On stream and vale embosom'd there. Now up the green hill's steep ascent A soldiei"'s rapid course is bent He halts, the topmost peak is won — He turns to gaze on Marathon — Sunlit and glorious neath his earnest glance, Lie battle plain and Ocean's fair expanse — Fast from the fatal shore in hiiri'ied sweep. The Persian galleys seek the friendly deep, Up springs the vengeful flame from mast and deck Strown on the yellow sands lie spoil and wreck — O'er the red plains the roar of battle dies — Another strain on lighter echo flies — Soft on his ear the song of victory floats, In far magnificence of triumph's notes. He sees his comrades pile with eager hands, The glittering trophy on the bloody sands. He marks the spot where fell that joyous morn The royal flag the Cissian Chief had borne, 27 iiice, e — ep, sep, it and deck I wreck — es — mds, ids, us morn orne, His arm struck there ! Is it the sunfiush'd sky, That lends its flame to fire his kindling eye ? So proud the glance through toil and wound reveal'd, The Soldier gazing on his first, last field. What meets the strife-worn stripling's raptur'd gaze I Earth — Sea — in Victory's si)lendour all ablaze ! The rush of battle surges through his brain — The charging shout — the clash of steel again. Transfigur'd in the flush of glorious light, The immortal vision tires his dazzled sight, Seems it — through luminous Heaven arm'd Phantoms th'-ong. His home's grand Heroes told in myth and song — Gathering in warlike pomp of lance and shield, The Past's ])i'oud homage to earth's noblest field : Flood the fair scene with light, O westering Sun ! Flash o'er the rausom'd west that Marathon is won ! ***** * Once more on Athens fades the eve's soft light The violet crown is on each guardian height — The graceful city lound its marbled hill Clings as a sleeping child caress'd and still — Far off', the waters of lhe tinted sea Sing to the sunset flush'd and tremulously, With isle and rock and ocean's crimson heave Steep'd in the beauty of the closing eve. Just where the hunter's path first halts to greet The landscape gleaming round the green hill's feet, A g}\zer stands — Look on him ; yes 'tis he, The herald with the tale of Victory ! Why halts he there I While in the vale beneath Ten thousand hearts dream of despair and death. On — on ! Alas, the Herald's eye is dim, The weight of toil drags down each laiiguid limb, The scarce dried blood that stains the stripling's breast Tells its own tale — and wearying miles the rest ; K I 28 He looks around on ocean, earth and sky With panting heart and wild, despairing eye — And as the shades of anguish close around He staggers — faints upon the i-ocky ground. Death strikes not yet — 'Tis past that death-like trance ; The wearied eye glares round with fearful glance O'er home's sweet vision — o'er each well-known s]3ot. Broods the crush'd heart in agonizinj:; thought — Bitter to die ! One hope upheld his strength, Through tangled wood, through vale of wearying length That first to loving hearLshouId Eucles' voice Shout the glad tidings, " Victoi-v ! Rejoice ! " Well had he fought, till triuni}»li's shout rang high, Left his dead sire in war's red pomp to lie. And now — the last height won ~ here crushed he lies With home's sweet vision 'neath his dying eyes. Up from the quiet vale a murmur floats — A softened harmony of mournful notes — Aye, listen ! From thy home's white altars rise A solemn strain of tuneful harmonies — There gray-haired sire, weak child and pallid maid Bow'd to the earth are wearying Heaven for aid ; May not the air-born chorus reach thine ear 1 With startling power to thrill, " Hear, Pallas, hear ! " Hath thy quick fancy in that far oif pray'r Heard one familiar voice lamenting there 1 One voice — the soul of many a love-lit, dream When starlight slept upon Ilissus' stream. On that dear heart must doubt and sorrow lie With the glad tale of victory so nigh 'i Up soldier, up ! the goal is all but won. Then if the brave heart break — its task is done ! Gloom on Athense ! as the eve sinks down Like earth's last sunset o'er the mourning town, And tear-dimm'd eyes pursue the failing light. With glance i»rophetic of a fearful night. I !i 29 ike trance ; lance own s])ot, crht— tb, irying length )ice ling high, hed he lies eyes. ivs rise lUid maid for aid ; jar] tillas, hear ! " 'r -A ^eaui 1. )w lie is done ! (vrn ig town, r light. A last faint radiance lights the distant surge That moans around ^gina's holy verge, And eastward, o'er Hymettua' crest afar Melts the soft splendour of the earliest star. Daughter of Jove — look down — earth's fairest hour Robes thy white fane with beauty's holiest power. Look on thy Attic home ! to greet thee there Wait gift and vow, and agony of prayer. Now on Hope's waxen wings, the accents rise, Now, in a wail the strain despairing dies ! A sound upon the torpi^J street ! A hurried sound of coming feet By Diomea's gate the scout Breaks the long silence with a shout That echoes round with startling might. " He comes ! a Herald from the fight ! " He ccmes — He comes. Now Life and Death Hang on the Herald's earliest breath ! He comes — he comes — his weary feet Slow bear him up the sacred street Toward the crown'd Vii' 'u's altar place He staggers on with faltei ing pace — " Tis Eucles 1 Eucles ! " onward flies The glance of lecognizing eyes. No voice the dreadful silence breaks No eager liji the question speaks — They mark the blood upon his breast — The wounded feet — the sullied vest, The flowing locks all bare — The wildness of the blood-shot eye — Gods ! Doth it fire with victory Or burns it with despair '( See ! from the distant battle field He carries home his dinted shield. Soft — now his path is stay'd ; By the white shrine the Herald stands, To Heaven are rais'd his weary hands 30 As asking strength and aid — Listen ! He speaks ! The crowd around Watch, as with madness for the sound — He gasps, the pallid lips have stirred, No ear hath caught the faltering word — The red blood to his ghastly brow Rushes with sudden fierceness now ; Up from the faint heart roll'd. Now, to the violet heaven's expanse Turns wild his eye's despairing glance, As to reproach the cruel Power That bids him die this awful hour — His glorious tale untold ! Hark I From the throng a low, deep moan Spreads o'er the hush its thrilling tone — Yon white form, cold and trembliuii tiiere Hath waked that whisper of despair, And see — the Herald's straining eye Fires at the sound half maddeningly — And then, a new found voice From the tired life '3 last effort wakes — Though in the strife the brave heaj't breaks, " Victory ! Rejoice ! Rejoic3 ! " Peace joyous crowds ! There is a death-bed here — Let softer voices sooth the dying ear — Come gently round with light and solemn tread, There the boy-soldier droops his graceful head — Mark the white lip — the dark eye glazed and dim ; Youth, valour, hope are passing there with him — Not in the storm of fight when shouts rang high, And banners gleam'd and charging spears swept by, Fails that bright spirit — Yet his fight is won. His country saved — his task of love is done, And loving hands his early death-bed tend, And home's kind eyes above his pillow bend ; mm oaii re 31 Strike light, 0, Death ! There is a white form now Kissing the death-damp from the {)allid brow, Propping with tender arm the drooping head, Wooing the Last sweet liglit the dim eyes shed. Whispering sweet words — siicli as Ilissus' tide Heard nightly by the flower crowned altar's side. Earnest to wake with love's impassion'd breath, Some lingering echo in the ear of death. A chord is touched — and with some transient mig The eve's last warmth of evanescent lifjht Shines forth, and fades, — and as the eternal trance Chills the faint heart and clouds the adoring jjlance Slow on the white arm droo[)S the youthful head, The soldier sleeps — the living clasps the dead ! aks, BY THE GRAVE d hei-e — an tre.id, head — i and dim ; ith him — mg high, ;8 swept by, 1 won. one, nd, bend ; YOUTHS. Trumpet and psean swell ! Bring shield and casque and spear ; Let the voice of all martial emblems tell, A soldier sleepeth here ! Rear the white column high ; Hang up the laurel crown ! Let our comrade's form as a victor lie In the light of his fresh renown ! MAIDENS. Scatter bright offerings round, Strew flowers -—green bud, tresh blossom 32 Let thy tired child sleep sound, Kind Earth, on thy mother's bosom- How he toiled on his homeward quest- How he died as his tale was spoken— He is weary ; 0, let him rest— His long, deep sleep unbroken ! YOUTHS. Bear the lost soldier home ! He a softer grave has won, And a softer dirge than the requiem surge That moans round Marathon— Our slain three hundred sleep On the glorious field they won — Their Hero-Sires high vigil keep, O'er the grave of each Hero-Son ! MAIDENS. Our woman's tears flow on — Our hearts the memory keeping— Of him, who thought when the fight was won Of those in the far homes, weeping ! Like light was thy path on earth, Like light hath thy sweet life parted ! There's a love link broken — a sadden'd hearth, And a wail for the faithful hearted 1 Farewell ! Forget not the faithful hearted ! YOUTHS. " Victory ! Rejoice, Rejoice ! " We will carve the legend well — From the tall white shaft its potent voice The glorious tale shaU tell ! Of the Soulier's might in the famous fight, Of the Herald's race well run — When rolls like fire from the War-Bard's lyre Thy story — Marathon ! H 33 ;e 'Tis spring time on the Attic hills, The snows have left Cithaeron's crest — Green vales the vernjil beauty tills, Hoft winds breathe fragrance from the west. Hymettus, on thy si>angletl fields, The wild bees suck thy honied thyme, And shower of bud and blossom yields Rich hope for Summer's golden prime— And fair Atheme's violet crown Floats o'er her hills as Day sinks down. 3 won earth, oice fight, rd's lyre Ilissus, by thy freshen'd stream, Fair springs the Lover's rustic shrine — We see the snowy marbles gleam Through the soft veil of rose and vine. Sweet voices haunt the joyous air. From hidden fount or thicket given The same broad wealth of flowers is there, The flickering wood, the lucid Heaven The Goddess by her graceful fane. Seems apt for Lover's vows again. Close by the Altar's outer bound Within the shade that evening flings. Co-tenant of the sacred ground A solitary column springs — Fair the white marbles glistening hue, Th' inverted torch, the sculptur'd base,. The amaranth blooms, all mark too true The spot, a mortal's resting place — Where scent and flower with living breath Float o'er the silent home of death — And still when Morning lights the wave Or Eve shines fair on Attic bowers. A watcher haunts the lonely grave. To smooth the turf or tend the flowers. 3 wsm 34 No fairy hand, no Dryad's form T! it task of gentle duty plies, A heart with human pity warm, There yield's Love's latest sacrifice. And soft eyes wear the sadden'd gleam, That lights lost love's memorial dream. Sweet sounds are round the Maiden now Beneath the wave is dancing clear. The fresh winds fan her placid brow. The fountain's music haunts her ear, And still her gaze the column seeks, To commune with the phantom voice, That from the letter'd tablet speaks Its legend ** Victory, Rejoice ! " And thoughts to mortal guess unknown. Wakes in her heart that spirit tone. Now look again. 'Tis holy night — The maid her lonely vigil keeps When flowers are clos'd and stars soft light Upon the crystal river sleeps. And Fancy calls from sti*eam and grove Shapes such as mourning eyes behold ; And memory sings to listening love Music of lips long mute and cold ; Murmiiring over the happy tale That Vdess'd so oft that starlit vale. Years fleeted on — the land was dark, The Persian swept the AW 2 hills, Arid thousands throng'd the flyers' bark And wail the mourning Athens fills. The eve before the woful flight A scant and melancholy train With dii'ge and wreath and funeral rite Came sadly to the rustic fane : 86 A maiden's dust to earth tliey bare, Her heart for years had rested there. The flowers were strewn, the farewell said — Next day the hitter flight was done — And dust was on Athena^'.s head Till Salamis and home were won. And still v/hen Marathon's proud tale Triumphant from the lyre-string swept — A softer cadence named the vale, Where Eucles and the Maiden slept, And loyal hearts a blessing gave To those who filled that quiet grave ! THE END.