THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 LEON I DAS, 
 
 A POEM, 
 
 BY 
 
 RICHARD GLOVER. 
 
 ADORNED WITH PLATES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 THE SIXTH EDITION. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 ntrtJ bp 3T. 
 
 FOR F. J. DU ROVERAY, GREAT ST. HELENS; 
 
 A.VD SOLD BY T. BOOSEY, OLD BROAD STREET; 
 
 AND J. WRIGHT, PICCADILLY. 
 
 1798.
 
 3H1& 
 
 RICHARD GLOVER. 
 
 MR. GLOVER, the author of the celebrated 
 poem of Leonidas, was born in London, and 
 was the son of John Glover Esq., an eminent 
 Hamburgh merchant, who married Miss West, 
 sister of the Right Honourable Richard West, 
 Lord Chancellor of Ireland. Mr. Glover's uncle 
 being in that high situation, it was originally 
 intended that he should be brought up to the 
 law ; but the Lord Chancellor dying when his ne- 
 phew was very young, the plan was altered, and 
 he was brought up to his father's profession. 
 
 Mr. Glover, by a lady he married (Miss 
 Nunn) of the county of Essex, and with whom 
 he received a considerable fortune, had three
 
 children; a daughter, who died young; Captain 
 Glover, who died in the service of his country 
 off the island of Jamaica, commanding his Ma- 
 jesty's ship Janus; and Richard, his surviving 
 son, who served in the last parliament for the 
 borough of Penryn in Cornwall. 
 
 He received the whole of his education un- 
 der the Rev. Daniel Sanxay at Cheam school ; 
 a place which he afterwards delighted to visit, 
 and sometimes attended the anniversary held of 
 late years in London, where he seemed happy 
 in relating his juvenile adventures. At this se- 
 minary he distinguished himself by the quick- 
 ness of his progress, and early began to exhibit 
 specimens of his poetical powers. 
 
 As a merchant he soon made a conspicuous 
 figure; but his commercial affairs did not oc- 
 cupy his whole attention ; he still found leisure 
 to cultivate the study of poetry, and continued 
 to associate with those who were eminent in
 
 literature and science. One of his earliest 
 friends was Green, the ingenious, though ob- 
 scure, author of that truly original poem en- 
 titled the " Spleen," which, in 1737, soon after 
 his death, was published by Mr. Glover. This 
 excellent performance contains the following 
 presage of his literary eminence, with an evi- 
 dent allusion to his Leonidas, which he had 
 begun when very young. 
 
 But there's a youth that you can name, 
 Who needs no leading-strings to fame, 
 Whose quick maturity of brain 
 The birth of Pallas may explain: 
 Dreaming of whose depending fate, 
 I heard Melpomene debate ; 
 This, this is he that was foretold 
 Should emulate our Greeks of old ; 
 Inspir'd by me with sacred art, 
 He sings, and rules the varied heart ; 
 If Jove's dread anger he rehearse, 
 We hear the thunder in his verse; 
 If he describe love turn'd to rage, 
 The furies riot on his page; 
 If he fair liberty and law, 
 By ruffian pow'r expiring, draw, 
 The keener passions then engage
 
 Aright, and sanctify their rage; 
 
 If he attempt disastrous love, 
 
 We hear those plaints that wound the grove; 
 
 Within the kinder passions glow, 
 
 And tears, distill'd from pity, flow. 
 
 The observation made upon Gray, by his 
 friend the late Earl of Orford, " that he never 
 was a boy," has been applied to Glover. At 
 the early age of 16 he wrote 
 
 A Poem to the Memory of Sir Isaac New- 
 ton; which was followed by 
 
 Leonidas, first printed in 1737. 
 
 London, or the Progress of Commerce, a 
 poem not unworthy of the author of Leonidas. 
 
 Hosier's Ghost, one of the most pathetic 
 and beautiful ballads in our language. 
 
 Boadicea,-) tragedies, performed both with 
 
 Medea, j much applause. 
 
 And the Athenaid, or a sequel to Leonidas, 
 and forming a counterpart to it, in thirty books, 
 presented to the world, with a few alterations 
 from the pen of a friend, in the year 1788.
 
 He also wrote a second part of Medea, not 
 yet performed. 
 
 Leonidas was inscribed to Lord Cobham, 
 and, on its first appearance, was received by the 
 public with great applause. 
 
 At the time of its publication a zeal, or 
 rather rage, for liberty prevailed in England. 
 A constellation of great men, distinguished by 
 their virtues as well as by their talents, set them- 
 selves in opposition to the court. Every species 
 of composition that bore the sacred name of 
 freedom recommended itself to their protection, 
 and soon obtained possession of the public fa- 
 vour; hence a poem founded on the noblest 
 principles of liberty, and displaying the most 
 brilliant examples of patriotism, soon found its 
 way into the world. It was praised in the 
 warmest terms by Lyttleton and Doctor Pem- 
 berton, and passed through three editions in 
 1737 and 1738; but, as its favourable reception
 
 was not founded entirely on its intrinsic merits, 
 it experienced afterwards, without deserving it, 
 the fate of those literary productions, which are 
 indebted for a temporary celebrity to the influ- 
 ence of party-principles. 
 
 It first came out in nine books; but in the 
 last edition published by the author (in 1770) 
 was extended to twelve; and had also several 
 new characters added, besides placing the old 
 ones in new situations. The improvements 
 were very considerable; but the public atten- 
 tion was not sufficiently alive to recompense 
 the pains bestowed on this once popular per- 
 formance. 
 
 Though not in the highest class of epic 
 poems, it cannot be read without delight. It 
 is characterized by a bold spirit of liberty, by 
 generous, tender, and noble sentiments. The 
 author eveiy where appears a virtuous man and 
 a good citizen. The characters are finely discri-
 
 minated, as is justly exemplified in Dr. Pem- 
 berton's learned commentary; and the style 
 possesses many poetical graces, though it is 
 sometimes familiar and prosaic. It abounds in 
 the affecting, the tender, and the beautiful, ra- 
 ther than in the heroic and sublime. The 
 parting of Leonidas and his wife is perhaps 
 more interesting than that of Hector and An- 
 dromache. The episode of Ariana and Teriba- 
 zus is poetical and pleasing. On the whole we 
 may safely venture to place Leonidas by the 
 side of Lucan's Pharsalia, Statius's Thebaid, 
 Camoens ? s Lusiad, and the Henriade of Vol- 
 
 Mr. Glover passed a great portion of his 
 time with Mr. Pitt, afterwards Earl of Chatham, 
 Mr. George Lyttleton, afterwards Lord Lyttle- 
 ton, Earl Temple, Lord Cobham, and many 
 others of the same principles; his connection 
 with whom introduced him to the notice of 
 Frederick Prince of Wales, who honoured him
 
 Vlll 
 
 .with his friendship, and distinguished him by 
 his countenance and patronage. 
 
 His talents for public speaking, his know- 
 ledge of political affairs, and his information 
 concerning trade and commerce, pointed him 
 out to the merchants of London as a proper 
 person to conduct their application to Parlia- 
 ment, on the subject of the neglect of their 
 trade. He accepted the office; and in sum- 
 ming up the evidence gave very striking proofs 
 of his oratorical powers. This remarkable speech 
 was pronounced at the bar of the House of Com- 
 mons, January 27, 1742, and soon afterwards 
 published under the tide of " A short account 
 of the late application to Parliament made by 
 the merchants of London, upon the neglect of 
 their trade, with the evidence thereupon, as 
 summed up by Mr. Glover." By his appear- 
 ance in behalf of the merchants of London he 
 acquired, and with great justice, the character 
 of an able and steady patriot ; and indeed, on
 
 IX 
 
 every occasion, he shewed his zeal for the com- 
 mercial interests of the nation, as well as his 
 attachment to the welfare of his countrymen 
 in general, and that of the city of London in 
 particular. 
 
 Our author, being induced by the impor- 
 tunity of his friends, offered himself in the year 
 1751 as a candidate for the place of Chamber- 
 lain of the City of London, in opposition to 
 the late Thomas Harrison Esq. Unfortunately 
 for him he did not declare his intention till most 
 of the livery had engaged their votes; to which 
 circumstance was ascribed the loss of his elec- 
 tion. On this occasion he addressed the livery 
 in a very manly and animated speech. 
 
 In the parliament which met at the acces- 
 sion of his present majesty (1761), he was 
 elected for Weymouth. He undertook to ma- 
 nage the interests of the merchants and traders 
 of London concerned in the trade to Germany
 
 and Holland, and of the dealers in foreign 
 linens, in their application to Parliament in May 
 1774. Both the speeches made on these occa- 
 sions were published within the same year. 
 
 In 1775 he engaged on behalf of the West 
 India merchants, in their application to Par- 
 liament, examined the witnesses, and summed 
 up the evidence in the same masterly manner 
 he had done on a former occasion. For the 
 assistance he afforded the merchants in this bu- 
 siness he was complimented by them with a 
 service of plate, of the value of 300 1. The 
 speech which he delivered in the house was 
 printed in that year. This was the last oppor- 
 tunity he had of displaying in public his ora- 
 torical talents. Having now arrived at a pe- 
 riod of life which demanded a recess from bu- 
 siness, he retired, and wore out the remainder 
 of his days with dignity and with honour, in 
 the exercise of the virtues of private life, and 
 in his attention to his muse. He died at his
 
 xi 
 
 house in Albemarle street, November 25, 1785, 
 in the 75th year of his age, and was buried in 
 the family vault in St. Edmund the King's in 
 Lombard street. 
 
 We shall conclude this short account of the 
 life and writings of our Author by the follow- 
 ing observations upon Leonidas from the pen of 
 Lyttleton. 
 
 " Since I have read Leonidas," says he 
 (Common. Sense, N 3 10), " I have been so 
 full of all the beauties I met with in it, that, to 
 give some vent, I found it necessary to write to 
 you, and invite my countrymen to take part 
 with me in the pleasure of admiring what so 
 justly deserves their admiration. And in doing 
 this I have yet a further view; I desire to do 
 them good as well as please them; for never 
 yet was an epic poem wrote with so noble and 
 so useful a design; the whole plan and pur- 
 pose of it being to shew the superiority of free-
 
 dom over slavery; and how much virtue, pub- 
 lic spirit, and the love of liberty, are preferable, 
 both in their nature and effects, to riches, lux- 
 ury, and the insolence of power. 
 
 f( This great and instructive moral is set 
 forth by an action the most proper to illustrate 
 it of all that ancient or modern history can 
 afford, enforced by the most sublime spirit of 
 poetry, and adorned by all the charms of an 
 active and warm imagination, under the re- 
 straint of a cool and sober judgment. 
 
 " And it has another special claim to pro- 
 tection; for, I will venture to say, there never 
 was an epic poem which had so near a relation 
 as this to common sense; the author of it not 
 having allowed himself the liberty, so largely 
 taken by his predecessors, of making excur- 
 sions beyond the bounds, and out of sight of 
 it, into the airy regions of poetical mythology. 
 There are neither fighting gods, nor scolding
 
 xiii 
 
 goddesses ; neither miracles, nor enchantments ; 
 neither monsters, nor giants, in his work; but 
 whatsoever human nature can afford that is 
 most astonishing, marvellous, and sublime. 
 
 (t And it has this particular merit to recom- 
 mend it, that, though it has quite the air of an 
 ancient epic poem, there is not so much as a 
 single simile in it that is borrowed from any of 
 the ancients ; and yet, I believe there is hardly 
 any poem that has such a variety of beautiful 
 comparisons; so just a confidence had the au- 
 thor in the extent and rich abundance of his 
 own imagination. 
 
 " The artful conduct of the principal de- 
 sign ; the skill in connecting and adapting every 
 episode to the carrying on and serving that de- 
 sign ; the variety of characters, the great care 
 to keep them, and distinguish each from the 
 other by a propriety of sentiment and thought; 
 all these are excellencies which the best judges
 
 of poetry will be particularly pleased with in 
 Leonidas. 
 
 " Upon the whole, I look upon this poem 
 as one of those few of distinguished worth and 
 excellence, which will be handed down with 
 respect to all posterity, and which, in the long 
 revolution of past centuries, but two or three 
 countries have been able to produce. And I 
 cannot help congratulating my own, that, after 
 having in the last age brought forth a Milton, 
 she has in this produced two more such poets 
 as we have the happiness to see flourish toge- 
 ther; I mean Mr. Pope and Mr. Glover."
 
 THE PREFACE. 
 
 To illustrate the following poem, to vindicate 
 the subject from the censure of improbability, 
 and to shew, by the concurring evidence of the 
 best historians, that such disinterested public 
 virtue did once exist, I have thought it would 
 not be improper to fix the subsequent narra- 
 tion. 
 
 While Darius, the father of Xerxes, was 
 yet on the throne of Persia, Cleomenes and 
 Demaratus were kings in Lacedaemon, both 
 descended from Hercules. Demaratus was un- 
 fortunately exposed by an uncertain rumour, 
 which rendered his legitimacy suspected, to the 
 malice and treachery of his colleague, who had
 
 conceived a personal resentment against him; 
 for Cleomenes, taking advantage of this report, 
 persuaded the Spartans to examine into the 
 birth of Demaratus, and refer the difficulty to 
 the oracle of Delphi; and was assisted in his 
 perfidious designs by a near relation of Dema- 
 ratus, named Leutychides, who aspired to suc- 
 ceed him in his dignity. Cleomenes found 
 means to corrupt the priestess of Delphi, who 
 declared Demaratus not legitimate. Thus, by 
 the base practices of his colleague Cleomenes, 
 and of his kinsman Leutychides, Demaratus 
 was expelled from his regal office in the com- 
 monwealth; a Lacedaemonian, distinguished in 
 action and counsel, and the only king of Sparta, 
 who, by obtaining the Olympic prize in the 
 chariot-race, had increased the lustre of his 
 country. He went into voluntary banishment, 
 and, retiring to Asia, was there protected by 
 Darius; while Leutychides succeeded to the 
 regal authority in Sparta. Upon the death of 
 Cleomenes Leonidas became king, who ruled
 
 in conjunction with this Leu ty chides when 
 Xerxes, the son of Darius, invaded Greece. 
 The number of land and naval forces which 
 accompanied that monarch, together with the 
 servants, women, and other usual attendants on 
 the army of an eastern prince, amounted to 
 upwards of five millions, as reported by Hero- 
 dotus, who wrote within a few years after the 
 event, and publicly recited his history at the 
 Olympic games. In this general assembly, 
 not only from Greece itself, but from every 
 part of the world wherever a colony of Grecians 
 was planted, had he greatly exceeded the truth, 
 he must certainly have been detected, and cen- 
 sured by some among so great a multitude ; 
 and such a voluntary falsehood must have en- 
 tirely destroyed that merit and authority which 
 have procured to Herodotus the veneration of 
 all posterity, with the appellation of the father 
 of history. On the first news of this attempt 
 on their liberty, a convention, composed of de- 
 puties:;|(||^ the several states of Greece, was
 
 XV111 
 
 immediately held at the Isthmus of Corinth, 
 to consult on proper measures for the public 
 safety. The Spartans also sent messengers to 
 enquire of the oracle at Delphi into the event 
 of the war, who returned with an answer from 
 the priestess of Apollo, that either a king, de- 
 scended from Hercules, must die, or Lacedae- 
 mon would be entirely destroyed. Leonidas 
 immediately offered to sacrifice his life for the 
 preservation of Lacedaemon; and, marching to 
 Thermopylae, possessed himself of that impor- 
 tant pass with three hundred of his country- 
 men ; who, with the forces of some other cities 
 in the Peloponnesus, together with the The- 
 bans, Thespians, and the troops of those states 
 which adjoined to Thermopylae, composed an 
 army of near eight thousand men. 
 
 Xerxes was now advanced as far as Thessa- 
 lia; when, hearing that a small body of Gre- 
 cians was assembled at Thermopylae, with some 
 Lacedaemonians at their head, and among the
 
 rest Leonidas, a descendant of Hercules, he dis- 
 patched a single horseman before to observe their 
 numbers, and discover their designs. When 
 this horseman approached he could not take a 
 view of the whole camp, which lay concealed 
 behind a rampart, formerly raised by the Pho- 
 cians at the entrance of Thermopylae on the 
 side of Greece; so that his whole attention was 
 engaged by those who were on guard before the 
 wall, and who at that instant chanced to be the 
 Lacedaemonians. Their manner and gestures 
 greatly astonished the Persian. Some were 
 amusing themselves in gymnastic exercises; 
 others were combing their hair; and all dis- 
 covered a total disregard of him, whom they 
 suffered to depart, and report to Xerxes what 
 he had seen; which appearing to that prince 
 quite ridiculous, he sent for Demaratus, who 
 was with him in the camp, and required him 
 to explain this strange behaviour of his coun- 
 trymen. Demaratus informed him that it was 
 a custom among the Spartans to comb down
 
 and adjust their hair when they were deter- 
 mined to fight till the last extremity. Xerxes, 
 notwithstanding, in the confidence of his power, 
 sent ambassadors to the Grecians to demand 
 their arms, to bid them disperse, and become 
 his friends and allies; which proposals being re- 
 ceived with disdain, he commanded the Medes 
 and Cissians to seize on the Grecians, and bring 
 them alive into his presence. These nations 
 immediately attacked the Grecians, and were 
 soon repulsed with great slaughter: fresh troops 
 still succeeded ; but with no better fortune than 
 the first, being opposed to an enemy not only 
 superior in valour and resolution, but who had 
 the advantage of discipline, and were furnished 
 with better arms, both offensive and defensive. 
 
 Plutarch, in his Laconic apothegms, reports 
 that the Persian king offered to invest Leonidas 
 with the sovereignty of Greece, provided he 
 would join his arms to those of Persia. This 
 offer was too considerable a condescension to
 
 XXI 
 
 have been made before a trial of their force, and 
 must therefore have been proposed by Xerxes 
 after such a series of ill success as might pro- 
 bably have depressed the insolence of his tem- 
 per; and it may be easily admitted that the vir- 
 tue of Leonidas was proof against any tempta- 
 tions of that nature. Whether this be a fact 
 or not, thus much is certain, that Xerxes was 
 reduced to extreme difficulties by this resolute 
 defence of Thermopylae ; till he was extricated 
 from his distress by a Malian, named Epialtes, 
 who conducted twenty thousand of the Persian 
 army into Greece, through a pass which lay 
 higher up the country, among the mountains 
 ofOeta: whereas the passage at Thermopylae 
 was situated on the sea-shore between those 
 mountains and the Malian bay. The defence 
 of the upper pass had been committed to a 
 thousand Phocians, who, upon the first tight 
 of the enemy, inconsiderately abandoned their 
 station, and put themselves in array upon a 
 neighbouring eminence; but the Persians wisely
 
 avoided an engagement, and with the utmost 
 expedition marched to Thermopylae. 
 
 Leonidas no sooner received information 
 that the Barbarians had passed the mountains, 
 and would soon be in a situation to surround 
 him, than he commanded the allies to retreat, 
 reserving the three hundred Spartans and four 
 hundred Thebans, whom, as they followed him 
 with reluctance at first, he now compelled to 
 stay. But the Thespians, whose number 
 amounted to seven hundred, would not be per- 
 suaded by Leonidas to forsake him. Their 
 commander was Demophilusj and the most 
 eminent amongst them for his valour was Di- 
 thyrambus, the son of Harmatides. Among 
 the Lacedaemonians the most conspicuous next 
 to Leonidas was Dieneces, who, being told 
 that the multitude of Persian arrows would ob- 
 scure the sun, replied, the battle would then 
 be in the shade. Two brothers, named Al- 
 pheus and Maron, are also recorded for their
 
 XX111 
 
 valour, and were Lacedaemonians. Megistias, 
 a priest, by birth an Acarnanian, and held in 
 high honour at Sparta, refused to desert Leo- 
 nidas, though entreated by him to consult his 
 safety; but sent away his only son, and re- 
 mained himself behind to die with the Lace- 
 daemonians. 
 
 Herodotus relates that Leonidas drew up 
 his men in the broadest part of Thermopylae ; 
 where, being encompassed by the Persians, 
 they fell with great numbers of their enemies : 
 but Plutarch, Diodorus Siculus, and others, af- 
 firm that the Grecians attacked the very camp 
 of Xerxes in the night. Both these dispositions 
 are reconcileable to probability. He might 
 have made an attack on the Persian camp in 
 the night, and in the morning have withdrawn 
 his forces back to Thermopylae, where they 
 would be enabled to make the most obstinate 
 resistance, and sell their lives upon the dearest 
 terms. The action is thus described by Dio-
 
 dorus. j " The Grecians, having now rejected 
 all thoughts of safety, preferring glory to life, 
 unanimously called on their general to lead 
 them against the Persians before they could be 
 apprised that their friends had passed round the 
 mountains. Leonidas embraced the occasion 
 which the ready zeal of his soldiers afforded, 
 and commanded them forthwith to dine as men 
 who were to sup in Elysium. Himself, in 
 consequence of this command, took a repast, 
 as the means to furnish strength for a long con- 
 tinuance, and to give perseverance in danger. 
 After a short refreshment the Grecians were 
 now prepared, and received orders to assail the 
 enemies in their camp, to put all they met to 
 the sword, and force a passage to the royal 
 pavilion j when, formed into one compact 
 body, with Leonidas himself at their head, 
 they marched against the Persians, and en- 
 tered their camp at the dead of night. The 
 Barbarians, wholly unprepared, and blindly 
 conjecturing that their friends were defeated,
 
 XXV 
 
 and themselves attacked by the united power of 
 Greece, hurry together from their tents with 
 the utmost disorder and consternation. Many 
 were slain by Leonidas and his party, but much 
 greater multitudes by their own troops, to 
 whom, in the midst of this blind confusion, 
 they were not distinguishable from enemies; 
 for, as night took away the power of discerning 
 truly, and the tumult was spread universally 
 over the camp, a prodigious slaughter must na- 
 turally ensue. The want of command, of a 
 watch-word, and of confidence in themselves, 
 reduced the Persians to such a state of confu- 
 sion, that they destroyed each other without 
 distinction. Had Xerxes continued in the royal 
 pavilion, the Grecians, without difficulty, might 
 have brought the war to a speedy conclusion 
 by his death; but he at the beginning of the 
 tumult betook himself to flight with the utmost 
 precipitation; when the Grecians, rushing into 
 the tent, put to the sword most of those who 
 were left behind; then, while night lasted, they
 
 ranged through the whole camp in diligent 
 search of the tyrant. When morning ap- 
 peared, the Persians, perceiving the true state 
 of things, held the inconsiderable number of 
 their enemies in contempt; yet were so terri- 
 fied at their valour, that they avoided a near 
 engagement; but, enclosing the Grecians on 
 every side, showered their darts and arrows 
 upon them at a distance, and in the end de- 
 stroyed their whole body. /In this manner fell 
 the Grecians, who, under the conduct of Leo- 
 nidas, defended the pass of Thermopylae. All 
 must admire the virtue of these men, who with 
 one consent, maintaining the post allotted by 
 their country, cheerfully renounced their lives 
 for the common safety of Greece, and esteemed 
 
 a glorious death more eligible than to live with 
 
 lr *y 
 dishonour, | Nor is the consternation of the 
 
 v 
 
 Persians incredible. Who among those Bar- 
 barians could have conjectured such an event? 
 Who could have expected that five hundred 
 men would have dared to attack a million ?
 
 Wherefore shall not all posterity reflect on the 
 virtue of these men, as the object of imitation, 
 who, though the loss of their lives was the ne- 
 cessary consequence of their undertaking, were 
 yet unconquered in their spirit; and among all 
 the great names, delivered down to remem- 
 brance, are the only heroes who obtained more 
 glory in their fall than others from the brightest 
 victories? With justice may they be deemed 
 the preservers of the Grecian liberty, even pre- 
 ferably to those who were conquerors in the 
 battles fought afterwards with Xerxes; for the 
 memory of that valour, exerted in the defence 
 of Thermopylae, for ever dejected the Barba- 
 rians, while the Greeks were fired with emula- 
 tion to equal such a pitch of magnanimity. 
 Upon the whole, there never were any before 
 these who attained to immortality through the 
 mere excess of virtue; whence the praise of 
 their fortitude hath not been recorded by histo- 
 rians only, but hath been celebrated by numbers 
 of poets, among others by Simonides the lyric."
 
 Pausanias, in his Laconics, considers the 
 defence of Thermopylae by Leonidas as an ac- 
 tion superior to any achieved by his cotem- 
 poraries, and to all the exploits of preceding 
 ages. " Never," says he, " had Xerxes beheld 
 Greece, and laid in ashes the city of Athens, 
 had not his forces under Hydarnes been con- 
 ducted through a path over mount Oeta; and, 
 by that means encompassing the Greeks, over- 
 come and slain Leonidas." Nor is it impro- 
 bable that such a commander, at the head of 
 such troops, should have maintained his post in 
 so narrow a pass till the whole army of Xerxes 
 had perished by famine. At the same time his 
 navy had been miserably shattered by a storm, 
 and worsted in an engagement with the Athe- 
 nians at Artemisium. 
 
 To conclude, the fall of Leonidas and his 
 brave companions, so meritorious to their coun- 
 try, and so glorious to themselves, hath ob- 
 tained such a high degree of veneration and ap-
 
 plausc from past ages, that few among the 
 ancient compilers of history have been silent 
 on this amazing instance of magnanimity, and 
 zeal for liberty; and many are the epigrams 
 and inscriptions now extant, some on the whole 
 body, others on particulars, who died at Ther- 
 mopylae, still preserving their memory in every 
 nation conversant with learning, and at this dis- 
 tance of time still rendering their virtue the ob- 
 ; ject of admiration and of praise. 
 
 I shall now detain the reader no longer than 
 to take this public occasion of expressing my 
 sincere regard for the Lord Viscount Cobham, 
 and the sense of my obligations for the early 
 honour of his friendship; to him I inscribe the 
 following poem; and herein I should be justi- 
 fied, independent of all personal motives, from 
 his lordship's public conduct, so highly distin- 
 guished by his disinterested zeal and unshaken 
 fidelity to his country, not less in civil life than 
 in the field : to him therefore a poem, founded
 
 on a character eminent for military glory and 
 love of liberty, is due from the nature of the 
 subject. 
 
 R. GLOVER.
 
 LEONIDAS. 
 
 BOOK I.
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Xerxes, king of Persia, having drawn together the whole force of his 
 empire, and passed over the Hellespont into Thrace, with a design to 
 conquer Greece, the deputies from the several states of that country, 
 who had some time before assembled themselves at the Isthmus of 
 Corinth, to deliberate on proper measures for resisting the invader, 
 were no sooner apprized of his march into Thrace than they deter- 
 mined, without further delay, to dispute his passage at the straits 
 of Thermopylae, the most accessible part of Greece on the side of 
 Thrace and Thessaly. Alpheus, one of the deputies from Sparta, 
 repairs to that city, and communicates this resolution to his country- 
 men ; who chanced that day to be assembled in expectation of receiv- 
 ing an answer from Apollo, to whom they had sent a messenger to 
 consult about the event of the war. Leutychides, one of their two 
 kings, counsels the people to advance no farther than the Isthmus of 
 Corinth, which separates the Peloponnesus, where Lacedaemon was 
 situated, from the rest of Greece ; but Leonidas, the other king, dis- 
 suades them from it. Agis, the messenger, who had been deputed 
 to Delphi, and brother to the queen of Leonidas, returns with the 
 oracle ; which denounces ruin to the Lacedaemonians, unless one of 
 their kings lays down his life for the public. Leonidas offers himself 
 for the victim. Three hundred more are appointed, all citizens of 
 Sparta, and heads of families, to accompany, and die with, him at 
 Thermopylae. Alpheus returns to the Isthmus. Leonidas, after an 
 interview with his queen, departs from Lacedaemon. At the end of 
 six days he encamps near the Isthmus, when he is joined by Alpheus; 
 who describes the auxiliaries, then waiting at the Isthmus; those who 
 are already possessed of Thermopylae, as also the pass itself; and con- 
 cludes with relating the captivity of his brother Polydorus in Persia.
 
 L E O N I D A S. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 THE virtuous Spartan, who resign'd his life 
 To save his country at th' Oetaean straits, 
 Thermopylae, when all the peopled east 
 In arms with Xerxes fill'd the Grecian plains, 
 O Muse, record ! The Hellespont they pass'd, 
 O'erpow'ring Thrace. The dreadful tidings swift 
 To Corinth flew. Her isthmus was the seat 
 Of Grecian council. Alpheus thence returns 
 To Lacedaemon. In assembly full 
 He finds the Spartan people with their kings j 
 Their kings, who boast an origin divine, 
 From Hercules descended. They the sons 
 Of Lacedaemon had conven'd, to learn 
 The sacred mandates of th' immortal gods, 
 That morn expected from the Delphian dome. 
 But Alpheus sudden their attention drew,
 
 And thus address'd them. ' For immediate war, 
 My countrymen, prepare. Barbarian tents 
 Already fill the trembling bounds of Thrace. 
 The Isthmian council hath decreed to guard 
 Thermopylae, the Locrian gate of Greece.' 
 
 Here Alpheus paus'd. Leutychides, who shar'd 
 With great Leonidas the sway, uprose 
 And spake. ' Ye citizens of Sparta, hear. 
 Why from her bosom should Laconia send 
 Her valiant race to wage a distant war 
 Beyond the Isthmus? There the gods have plac'd 
 Our native barrier. In this favour'd land, 
 Which Pelops govern'd, us of Doric blood 
 That Isthmus inaccessible secures. 
 There let our standards rest. Your solid strength 
 If once you scatter, in defence of states 
 Remote and feeble, you betray your own, 
 And merit Jove's derision.' With assent 
 The Spartans heard. Leonidas reply 'd 
 
 ' O most ungen'rous counsel ! most unwise! 
 Shall we, confining to that Isthmian fence
 
 Our efforts, leave beyond it ev'ry state 
 
 Disown'd, expos'd ? Shall Athens, while her fleets 
 
 Unceasing watch th' innumerable foes, 
 
 And trust th' impending dangers of the field 
 
 To Sparta's well-known valour, shall she hear 
 
 That to Barbarian violence we leave 
 
 Her unprotected walls? Her hoary sires, 
 
 Her helpless matrons, and their infant -race 
 
 To servitude and shame? Her guardian gods 
 
 Will yet preserve them. Neptune o'er his main, 
 
 With Pallas, pow'r of wisdom, at their helms, 
 
 Will soon transport them to a happier clime, 
 
 Safe from insulting foes, from false allies; 
 
 And eleutherian Jove will bless their flight. 
 
 Then shall we feel the unresisted force 
 
 Of Persia's navy, deluging our plains 
 
 With inexhausted numbers. Half the Greeks, 
 
 By us betray'd to bondage, will support 
 
 A Persian lord, and lift th' avenging spear 
 
 For our destruction. But, my friends, reject 
 
 Such mean, such dang'rous counsels, which would blast 
 
 Your long establish'd honours, and assist 
 
 The proud invader. O eternal king
 
 6 
 
 Of gods and mortals, elevate our minds ! 
 Each low and partial passion thence expel ! 
 Greece is our gen'ral mother. All must join 
 In her defence, or sep'rate each must fall.' 
 
 This said, authority and shame controll'd 
 The mute assembly. Agis too appear'd. 
 He from the Delphian cavern was return'd, 
 Where, taught by Phoebus on Parnassian cliffs, 
 The Pythian maid unfolded heaven's decrees. 
 He came; but discontent and grief o'ercast 
 His anxious brow. Reluctant was his tongue, 
 Yet seem'd full charg'd to speak. Religious dread 
 Each heart relax'd. On ev'ry visage hung 
 Sad expectation. Not a whisper told 
 The silent fear. Intensely all were fix'd, 
 All still as death, to hear the solemn tale. 
 As o'er the western waves, when ev'ry storm 
 Is hush'd within its cavern, and a breeze, 
 Soft breathing, lightly with its wings along 
 The slacken'd cordage glides, the sailor's ear 
 Perceives no sound throughout the vast expanse; 
 None, but the murmurs of th,e sliding prow,
 
 Which slowly parts the smooth and yielding mainj 
 So through the wide and list'ning crowd no sound, 
 No voice, but thine, O Agis, broke the air j 
 While thus the issue of thy awful charge 
 Thy lips deliver'd. ' Spartans, in your name 
 I went to Delphi. I inquir'd the doom 
 Of Lacedaemon from th' impending war, 
 When in these words the deity reply 'd 
 
 " Inhabitants of Sparta, Persia's arms 
 Shall lay your proud and ancient seat in dust, 
 Unless a king, from Hercules deriv'd, 
 Cause Lacedaemon for his death to mourn." ' 
 
 As, when the hand of Perseus had disclos'd 
 The snakes of dire Medusa, all who view'd 
 The Gorgon features were congeal'd to stone, 
 With ghastly eyeballs, on the hero bent, 
 And horror, living in their marble form; 
 Thus, with amazement rooted where they stood, 
 In speechless terror frozen, on their kings 
 The Spartans gaz'd : but soon their anxious looks 
 All on the great Leonidas unite,
 
 8 
 
 Long known his country's refuge. He alone 
 Remains unshaken. Rising, he displays 
 His godlike presence. Dignity and grace 
 Adorn his frame, where manly beauty joins 
 With strength Herculean. On his aspect shine 
 Sublimest virtue and desire of fame, 
 Where justice gives the laurel; in his eye 
 The inextinguishable spark, which fires 
 The souls of patriots; while his brow supports 
 Undaunted valour, and contempt of death. 
 Serene he cast his looks around, and spake 
 
 ( Why this astonishment on ev'ry face, 
 Ye men of Sparta? Does the name of death 
 Create this fear and wonder? O my friends, 
 Why do we labour through the arduous paths 
 Which lead to virtue? Fruitless were the toil, 
 Above the reach of human feet were plac'd 
 The distant summit, if the fear of death 
 Could intercept our passage. But a frown 
 Of unavailing terror he assumes 
 To shake the firmness of a mind which knows 
 That, wanting virtue, life is pain and wo,
 
 9 
 
 That, wanting liberty, ev'n virtue mourns, 
 And looks around for happiness in vain. 
 Then speak, O Sparta, and demand my life. 
 My heart, exulting, answers to thy call, 
 And smiles on glorious fate. To live with fame 
 The gods allow to many; but to die 
 With equal lustre is a blessing Jove 
 Among the choicest of his boons reserves, 
 Which but on few his sparing hand bestows.' 
 
 Salvation thus to Sparta he proclaim'd. 
 Joy, wrapt awhile in admiration, paus'd, 
 Suspending praise; nor praise at last resounds 
 In high acclaim to rend the arch of heav'n ; 
 A reverential murmur breathes applause. 
 So were the pupils of Lycurgus train'd 
 To bridle nature. Public fear was dumb 
 Before their senate, ephori, and kings, 
 Nor exultation into clamour broke. 
 Amidst them rose Dieneces, and thus 
 
 ' Haste to Thermopylae. To Xerxes shew 
 The discipline of Spartans, long renown'd
 
 10 
 
 In rigid warfare, with enduring minds, 
 "Which neither pain, nor want, nor danger, bend. 
 Fly to the gate of Greece, which open stands 
 To slavery and rapine. They will shrink 
 Before your standard, and their native seats 
 Resume in abject Asia. Arm, ye sires, 
 Who with a growing race have bless'd the state: 
 That race, your parents, gen'ral Greece, forbid 
 Delay. Heav'n summons. Equal to the cause 
 A chief behold. Can Spartans ask for more?' 
 
 Bold Alpheus next. ' Command my swift return 
 Amid the Isthmian council, to declare 
 Your instant march.' His dictates all approve. 
 Back to the Isthmus he unweary'd speeds. 
 
 Now from th' assembly with majestic steps 
 Forth moves their godlike king, with conscious worth 
 His gen'rous bosom glowing. Such the port 
 Of his divine progenitor ; impell'd 
 By ardent virtue, so Alcides trod 
 Invincible, to face in horrid war 
 The triple form of Geryon, or against 
 The bulk of huge Antaeus match his strength.
 
 11 
 
 Say, Muse, what heroes, by example fir'd, 
 Nor less by honour, offer'd now to bleed ? 
 Dieneces the foremost, brave and staid, 
 Of vet' ran skill to range in martial fields 
 Well-order 'd lines of battle. Maron next, 
 Twin-born with Alpheus, shews his manly frame. 
 Him Agis follow'd, brother to the queen 
 Of great Leonidas, his friend, in war 
 His try'd companion. Graceful were his steps, 
 And gentle his demeanour. Still his soul 
 Preserv'd the purest virtue, though refin'd 
 By arts unknown to Lacedaemon's race. 
 High was his office. He, when Sparta's weal 
 Support and counsel from the gods requir'd, 
 Was sent the hallow'd messenger, to learn 
 Their mystic will, in oracles declar'd, 
 From rocky Delphi, from Dodona's shade, 
 Or sea-encircled Delos, or the cell 
 Of dark Trophonius, round Boeotia known. 
 Three hundred more complete th' intrepid band ; 
 Illustrious fathers all of gen'rous sons, 
 The future guardians of Laconia's state. 
 Then rose Megistias, leading forth his son,
 
 12 
 
 Young Menalippus. Not of Spartan blood 
 
 Were they. Megistias, heav'n-enlighten'd seer, 
 
 Had left his native Acarnanian shore ; 
 
 Along the border of Eurotas chose 
 
 His place of dwelling. For his worth receiv'd, 
 
 And hospitably cherish'd, he the wreath 
 
 Pontific bore in Lacedaemon's camp, 
 
 Serene in danger, nor his sacred arm 
 
 From warlike toil secluding, nor untaught 
 
 To wield the sword, and poise the weighty spear. 
 
 But to his home Leonidas retir'd. 
 There calm in secret thought he thus explor'd 
 His mighty soul, while nature in his breast 
 A short emotion rais'd. ' What sudden grief, 
 What cold reluctance, now unmans my heart, 
 And whispers that I fear ? Can death dismay 
 Leonidas ; death, often seen and scorn'd, 
 When clad most dreadful in the battle's front? 
 Or to relinquish life in all its pride, 
 With all my honours blooming round my head, 
 Repines my soul ; or rather to forsake, 
 Eternally forsake, my weeping wife,
 
 13 
 
 My infant offspring, and my faithful friends? 
 Leonidas, awake! Shall these withstand 
 The public safety ? Hark! thy country calls. 
 O sacred voice, I hear thee. At the sound 
 Reviving virtue brightens in my heart ; 
 Fear vanishes before her. Death, receive 
 My unreluctant hand. Immortal fame, 
 Thou too, attendant on my righteous fall, 
 With wings unweary'd wilt protect my tomb.' 
 
 His virtuous soul the hero had confirm'd 
 When Agis enter'd. ' If my tardy lips,' 
 He thus began, ' have hitherto forborne 
 To bring their grateful tribute of applause, 
 Which, as a Spartan, to thy worth I owe, 
 Forgive the brother of thy queen. Her grief 
 Detain'd me from thee. O unequall'd man, 
 Though Lacedaemon call thy prime regard, 
 Forget not her, sole victim of distress 
 Amid the general safety. To assuage 
 Such pain fraternal tenderness is weak.' 
 
 The king embrac'd him, and reply'd, O best, 
 O dearest man, conceive not but my soul
 
 14 
 
 To her is fondly bound, from whom my days 
 
 Their largest share of happiness deriv'd. 
 
 Can I, who yield my breath lest others mourn, 
 
 Lest thousands should be wretched, when she pines, 
 
 More lov'd than any, tho' less dear than all, 
 
 Can I neglect her griefs? In future days, 
 
 If thou with grateful memory record 
 
 My name and fate, O Sparta, pass not this 
 
 Unheeded by. The life for thee resign'd 
 
 Knew not a painful hour to tire my soul, 
 
 Nor were they common joys I left behind.' 
 
 So spake the patriot, and his heart o'erflow'd 
 In tend'rest passion. Then in eager haste 
 The faithful partner of his bed he sought. 
 Amid her weeping children sat the queen 
 Immovable and mute. Her swimming eyes 
 Bent to the earth. Her arms were folded o'er 
 Her lab'ring bosom, blotted with her tears. 
 As, when a dusky mist involves the sky, 
 The moon through all the dreary vapours spreads 
 The radiant vesture of her silver light 
 O'er the dull face of nature j so the queen,
 
 15 
 
 Divinely graceful, shining through her grief, 
 Brighten'd the cloud of wo. Her lord approach'd. 
 Soon, as in gentlest phrase his well-known voice 
 Awak'd her drooping spirit, for a time 
 Care was appeas'd. She lifts her languid head. 
 She gives this utt'rance to her tender thoughts 
 
 ' O thou, whose presence is my sole delight; 
 If thus, Leonidas, thy looks and words 
 Can check the rapid current of distress, 
 How am I mark'd for misery ! How long ! 
 When of life's journey less than half is pass'd, 
 And I must hear those calming sounds no more, 
 Nor see that face which makes affliction smile!' 
 
 This said, returning grief o'erwhelms her breast. 
 Her orphan children, her devoted lord, 
 Pale, bleeding, breathless on the field of death, 
 Her ever-during solitude of wo, 
 All rise in mingled horror to her sight, 
 When thus in bitterest agony she spake 
 
 ' O whither art thou going from my arms?
 
 Shall I no more behold thee? Oh! no more, 
 In conquest clad, o'erspread with glorious dust, 
 Wilt thou return to greet thy native soil, 
 And find thy dwelling joyful ! Ah! too brave, 
 Why would'st thou hurry to the dreary gates 
 Of death, uncall'd ? Another might have bled, 
 Like thee a victim of Alcides' race, 
 Less dear to all, and Sparta been secure. 
 Now ev'ry eye with mine is drown'd in tears. 
 All with these babes lament a father lost. 
 Alas ! how heavy is our lot of pain I 
 Our sighs must last when ev'ry other breast 
 Exults in safety, purchas'd by our loss. 
 Thou didst not heed our anguish didst not seek 
 One pause for my instruction how to bear 
 Thy endless absence, or like thee to die." 
 
 Unutterable sorrow here confin'd 
 Her voice. These words Leonidas return'd 
 
 ' I see, I share thy agony. My soul 
 Ne'er knew how warm the prevalence of love, 
 How strong a parent's feelings, till this hourj
 
 17 
 
 Nor was she once insensible to thee 
 
 In all her fervour to assert my fame. 
 
 How had the honours of my name been stain'd 
 
 By hesitation? Shameful life, preferr'd 
 
 By an inglorious colleague, would have left 
 
 No choice but what were infamy to shun, 
 
 Not virtue to accept. Then deem no more 
 
 That, of thy love regardless, or thy tears, 
 
 I rush uncall'd to death. The voice of fate, 
 
 The gods, my fame, my country, press my doom. 
 
 Oh! thou dear mourner! Wherefore swells afresh 
 
 That tide of wo? Leonidas must fall. 
 
 Alas ! far heavier misery impends 
 
 O'er thee and these, if, soften'd by thy tears, 
 
 I shamefully refuse to yield that breath, 
 
 Which justice, glory, liberty, and heav'n, 
 
 Claim for my country, for my sons and thee. 
 
 Think on my long unalter'd love. Reflect 
 
 On my paternal fondness. Hath my heart 
 
 E'er known a pause in love, or pious care? 
 
 Now shall that care, that tenderness be shewn 
 
 Most warm, most faithful. When thy husband dies 
 
 For Lacedaemon's safety; thou wilt share,
 
 18 
 
 Thou and thy children, the diffusive good. 
 
 I am selected by th' immortal gods 
 
 To save a people. Should my timid heart 
 
 That sacred charge abandon, I should plunge 
 
 Thee too in shame, in sorrow. Thou wouldst mourn 
 
 With Lacedsemon 5 wouldst with her sustain 
 
 Thy painful portion of oppression's weight. 
 
 Behold thy sons, now worthy of their name, 
 
 Their Spartan birth. Their growing bloom would pine 
 
 Depress'd, dishonour'd, and their youthful hearts 
 
 Beat at the sound of liberty no more. 
 
 On their own merit, on their father's fame, 
 
 When he the Spartan freedom hath confirm'd, 
 
 Before the world illustrious will they rise, 
 
 Their country's bulwark, and their mother's joy.' 
 
 Here paus'd the patriot. In religious awe 
 Grief heard the voice of virtue. No complaint 
 The solemn silence broke. Tears ceas'd to flow ; 
 Ceas'd for a moment, soon again to stream. 
 Behold, in arms before the palace drawn, 
 His brave companions of the war demand 
 Their leader's presence. Then her griefs, renew'd,

 
 &S' y^/v^7 5 VffSt*'
 
 19 
 
 Surpassing utt'rance, intercept her sighs. 
 
 Each accent freezes on her falt'ring tongue. 
 
 In speechless anguish on the hero's breast 
 
 She sinks. On ev'ry side his children press, 
 
 Hang on his knees, and kiss his honour'd hand. 
 
 His soul no longer struggles to confine 
 
 Her agitation. Down the hero's cheek, 
 
 Down flows the manly sorrow. Great in wo, 
 
 Amid his children, who enclose him round, 
 
 He stands, indulging tenderness and love 
 
 In graceful tears, when thus, with lifted eyes 
 
 Address'd to heaven, * Thou ever-living pow'r, 
 
 Look down propitious, sire of gods and men I 
 
 O to this faithful woman, whose desert 
 
 May claim thy favour, grant the hours of peace 1 
 
 And thou, my bright forefather, seed of Jove, 
 
 O Hercules, neglect not these thy race! 
 
 But, since that spirit I from thee derive 
 
 Transports me from them to resistless fate, 
 
 Be thou their guardian ! Teach them, like thyself, 
 
 By glorious labours to embellish life, 
 
 And from their father let them learn to die!'
 
 20 
 
 Here ending, forth he issues, and assumes 
 Before the ranks his station of command. 
 They now proceed. So mov'd the host of heav'n 
 On Phlegra's plains, to meet the giant sons 
 Of earth and Titan. From Olympus march'd 
 The deities embattled; while their king 
 TowYd in the front, with thunder in his grasp. 
 Thus through the streets of Lacedaemon pass'd 
 Leonidas. Before his footsteps bow 
 The multitude, exulting. On he treads 
 Rever'd. Unsated, their enraptur'd sight 
 Pursues his graceful stature, and their tongues 
 Extol and hail him as their guardian .god. 
 Firm in his nervous hand he gripes the spear. 
 Low as the ankles, from his shoulders hangs 
 The massy shield, and o'er his burnish'd helm 
 The purple plumage nods. Harmonious youths, 
 Around whose brows entwining laurels play, 
 In lofty-sounding strains his praise record ; 
 While snowy-finger'd virgins all the way 
 Bestrew with od'rous garlands. Now his breast 
 Is all possess'd by glory; which dispell'd
 
 21 
 
 Whate'er of grief remain'd, or vain regret 
 
 For those he left behind. The rev'rend train 
 
 Of Lacedaemon's senate last appear, 
 
 To take their final, solemn leave, and grace 
 
 Their hero's parting steps. Around him flow 
 
 In civil pomp their venerable robes, 
 
 Mix'd with the blaze of arms. The shining troop 
 
 Of warriors press behind him. Maron here, 
 
 With Menalippus, warm in flow'ry prime j 
 
 There Agis, there Megistias, and the chief 
 
 Dieneces. Laconia's dames ascend 
 
 The loftiest mansions; thronging o'er the roofs, 
 
 Applaud their sons, their husbands, as they march. 
 
 So parted Argo from th' lolchian strand 
 
 To plough the foaming surge. Thessalia's nymphs, 
 
 Rang'd on the cliffs, o'ershading Neptune's face, 
 
 Still on the distant vessel fix'd their eyes 
 
 Admiring; still in paeans bless'd the helm, 
 
 By Greece intrusted with her chosen sons 
 
 For high adventures on the Colchian shore. 
 
 Swift on his course Leonidas proceeds. 
 Soon is Eurotas pass'd, and Lerna's bank,
 
 22 
 
 Where his victorious ancestor subdu'd 
 
 The many-headed Hydra, and the lake 
 
 To endless fame consign'd. Th' unweary'd bands 
 
 Next through the pines of Maenalus he led, 
 
 And down Parthenius urg'd the rapid toil. 
 
 Six days incessant was their march pursu'd, 
 
 When to their ear the hoarse-resounding waves 
 
 Beat on the Isthmus. Here the tents are spread. 
 
 Below the wide horizon then the sun 
 
 Had dipp'd his beamy locks. The queen of night 
 
 Gleam'd from the centre of th' ethereal vault, 
 
 And o'er the raven plumes of darkness shed 
 
 Her placid light. Leonidas detains 
 
 Dieneces and Agis. Open stands 
 
 The tall pavilion, and admits the moon. 
 
 As here they sit conversing, from the hill, 
 
 Which rose before them, one of noble port 
 
 Is seen descending. Lightly down the slope 
 
 He treads. He calls aloud. They heard, they knew 
 
 The voice of Alpheus, whom the king address'd 
 
 ' O thou, with swiftness by the gods endu'd 
 To match the ardour of thy daring soul,
 
 23 
 
 What from the Isthmus draws thee? Do the Greeks 
 Neglect to arm and face the public foe?' 
 
 ' Good news gives wings,' said Alpheus. ' Greece is 
 
 arm'd. 
 
 The neighb'ring Isthmus holds th' Arcadian bands. 
 From Mantinea Diophantus leads 
 Five hundred spears ; nor less from Tegea's walls 
 With Hegesander move. A thousand more, 
 Who in Orchomenus reside, and range 
 Along Parrhasius or Cyllene's brow, 
 Who near the foot of Erymanthus dwell, 
 Or on Alphean banks, with various chiefs, 
 Expect thy presence. Most is Clonius fam'd, 
 Of stature huge, unshaken rock of war. 
 Four hundred warriors brave Alcmaeon draws 
 From stately Corinth's tow'rs. Two hundred march 
 From Phlius: them Eupalamus commands. 
 An equal number of Mycenae's race 
 Aristobulus hea*ds. Through fear alone 
 Of thee, and threat' ning Greece, the Thebans arm. 
 A few in Thebes authority and rule 
 Usurp. Corrupted with Barbarian gold,
 
 24 
 
 They quench the gen'rous, eleutherian flame 
 In ev'ry heart. The eloquent they bribe. 
 By specious tales the multitude they cheat, 
 Establishing base measures on the plea 
 Of public safety. Others are immers'd 
 In all the sloth of plenty, who, unmov'd, 
 In shameful ease, behold the state betray'd. 
 Aw'd by thy name, four hundred took the field. 
 The wily Anaxander is their chief 
 With Leontiades. To see their march 
 I staid ; then hasten'd to survey the straits, 
 Which thou shalt render sacred to renown.' 
 
 For ever mingled with a crumbling soil, 
 Which moulders round th' indented Malian coast, 
 The sea rolls slimy. On a solid rock, 
 Which forms the inmost limit of a bay, 
 Thermopylae is stretch'd. Where broadest spread, 
 It measures threescore paces, bounded here 
 By the salt ooze, which underneath presents 
 A dreary surface; there the lofty cliffs 
 Of wooded CEta overlook the pass, 
 And far beyond, o'er half the surge below,
 
 25 
 
 Their horrid umbrage cast. Across the mouth 
 An ancient bulwark of the Phocians stands, 
 A wall with gates and tow'rs. The Locrian force 
 Was marching forward. Them I pass'd, to greet 
 Demophilus of Thespia, who had pitch'd 
 Seven hundred spears before th' important fence. 
 His brother's son attends the rev'rend chief, 
 Young Dithyrambus. He for noble deeds, 
 Yet more for temperance of mind, renown'd, 
 In early bloom with brightest honours shines, 
 Nor wantons in the blaze. Here Agis spake 
 
 ' Well hast thou painted that illustrious youth. 
 He is my host at Thespia. Though adorn'd 
 With various wreaths, by fame, by fortune bless' d, 
 His gentle virtues take from Envy's lips 
 Their blasting venom; and her baneful eye 
 Strives on his worth to smile.' In silence all 
 Again remain, when Alpheus thus proceeds 
 
 ' Plataea's chosen veterans I saw, 
 Small in their number, matchless in their fame. 
 Diomedon the leader. Keen his sword
 
 26 
 
 At Marathon was felt, where Asia bled. 
 These guard Thermopylae. Among the hills, 
 Unknown to strangers, winds an upper strait, 
 Which by a thousand Phocians is secur'd. 
 Ere these brave Greeks I quitted, in the bay 
 A stately chieftain of th' Athenian fleet 
 Arriv'd. I join'd him. Copious in thy praise, 
 He utter'd rapture, but austerely blam'd 
 Laconia's tardy counsels ; while the ships 
 Of Athens long had stemm'd Euboean tides, 
 Which flow not distant from our future post. 
 This was the far-fam'd ./Eschylus, by Mars, 
 By Phoebus lov'd. Parnassus him proclaims 
 The first of Attic poets; him the plains 
 Of Marathon a soldier, try'd in arms.' 
 
 ' Well may Athenians murmur,' said the king. 
 ' Too long hath Sparta slumber'd on her shield. 
 By morn beyond the Isthmus we will spread 
 A gen'rous banner. In Laconian strains 
 Of Alcman and Terpander lives the fame 
 Of our forefathers. Let our deeds attract 
 The brighter muse of Athens, in the song
 
 27 
 
 Of jEschylus divine. Now frame thy choice. 
 Share in our fate; or, hastening home, report 
 How much already thy discerning mind, 
 Thy active limbs, have merited from me; 
 How serv'd thy country.' From th' impatient lips 
 Of Alpheus swift these fervid accents broke 
 
 ' I have not measur'd such a tract of land, 
 Have not, untir'd, beheld the setting sun, 
 Nor through the shade of midnight urg'd my steps. 
 To animate the Grecians, that myself 
 Might be exempt from warlike toil, or death. 
 Return? Ah! no. A second time my speed 
 Shall visit thee, Thermopylae. My limbs 
 Shall at thy side, Leonidas, obtain 
 An honourable grave. And, oh ! amid 
 His country's perils, if a Spartan breast 
 May feel a private sorrow, fierce revenge 
 I seek, not only for th' insulted state, 
 But for a brother's wrongs. A younger hope, 
 Than I and Maron, bless'd our father's years, 
 Child of his age, and Polydorus nam'd. 
 His mind, while tender in his op'ning prime,
 
 28 
 
 Was bent to strenuous virtue. Gen'rous scorn 
 Of pain, or danger, taught his early strength 
 To struggle patient with severest toils. 
 Oft, when inclement winter chill'd the air, 
 When frozen show'rs had swoln Eurotas' stream, 
 Amid th' impetuous channel would he plunge, 
 To breast the torrent. On a fatal day, 
 As in the sea his active limbs he bath'd, 
 A savage corsair of the Persian king, 
 My brother, naked and defenceless, bore, 
 Ev'n in my sight, to Asia; there to waste, 
 With all the promise of its growing worth, 
 His youth in bondage. Tedious were the tale, 
 Should I recount my pains, my father's woes, 
 The days he wept, the sleepless nights he beat 
 His aged bosom. And shall Alpheus' spear 
 Be absent from Thermopylae, nor claim, 
 O Polydorus, vengeance for thy wrongs 
 In that first slaughter of the barb'rous foe ?' 
 
 Here interpos'd Dieneces. Their hands 
 He grasp'd, and cordial transport thus express' d-
 
 ' O that Lycurgus from the shades might rise 
 To praise the virtue which his laws inspire 1' 
 
 Thus, till the dead of night, these heroes pass'd 
 The hours in friendly converse, and enjoy'd 
 Each other's virtue. Happiest of men! 
 At length, with gentle heaviness, the pow'r 
 Of sleep invades their eyelids, and constrains 
 Their magnanimity and zeal to rest; 
 When, sliding down the hemisphere, the moon 
 Immers'd in midnight shade her silver head.
 
 LE ONI DAS. 
 
 BOOK II.
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Leonidas, on his approach to the Isthmus, is met by the leaders of the 
 troops sent from other Grecian states, and by the deputies who com- 
 posed the Isthmian council. He harangues them ; then proceeds, in 
 conjunction with these forces, towards Thermopylae. On the first 
 day he is joined by Dithyrambus ; on the third he reaches a valley 
 in Locris, where he is entertained by OVleus, the public host of the 
 Lacedaemonian state ; and the next morning is accompanied by him 
 in a car to the temple of Pan : he finds Medon there, the son of 
 O'lleus, and commander of two thousand Locrians, already posted at 
 Thermopylae, and by him is informed that the army of Xerxes is in 
 sight of the pass.
 
 LEONIDAS. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 AURORA spreads her purple beams around, 
 When move the Spartans. Their approach is known. 
 The Isthmian council, and the diff'rent chiefs 
 Who lead th' auxiliar bands, advance to meet 
 Leonidasj Eupalamus the strong, 
 Alcmaeon, Clonius, Diophantus brave, 
 With Hegesander. At their head is seen 
 Aristobulus, whom Mycenae's ranks 
 Obey; Mycenae, once august in pow'r, 
 In splendid wealth, and vaunting still the name 
 Of Agamemnon. To Laconia's king 
 The chieftain spake ' Leonidas, survey 
 Mycenae's race. Should ev'ry other Greek 
 Be aw'd by Xerxes, and his eastern host, 
 Believe not we can fear, deriv'd from those 
 D
 
 34 
 
 Who once conducted o'er the foaming surge 
 The strength of Greece ; who desert left the fields 
 Of ravag'd Asia, and her proudest walls 
 From their foundations levell'd to the ground.' 
 
 Leonidas replies not, but his voice 
 Directs to all ' Illustrious warriors, hail ! 
 Who thus undaunted signalize your faith, 
 Your gen'rous ardour, in the common cause. 
 But you, whose counsels prop the Grecian state, 
 O venerable synod, who consign 
 To our protecting sword the gate of Greece, 
 Thrice hail ! Whate'er by valour we obtain, 
 Your wisdom must preserve. With piercing eyes 
 Contemplate ev'ry city, and discern 
 Their various tempers. Some, with partial care, 
 To guard their own, neglect the public, weal. 
 Unmov'd and cold are others. Terror here, 
 Corruption there, presides. O fire the brave 
 To gen'ral efforts in the gen'ral cause. 
 Confirm the wav'ring. Animate the cold, 
 The timid. Watch the faithless. Some betray 
 Themselves and Greece. Their perfidy prevent,
 
 35 
 
 Or call them back to honour. Let us all 
 Be link'd in sacred union, and this land 
 May face the world's whole multitude in arms. 
 If for the spoil, by Paris borne to Troy, 
 A thousand keels the Hellespont o'erspread, 
 Shall not again confederated Greece 
 Be rous'd to battle, and to freedom give 
 What once she gave to fame? Behold, we haste 
 To stop th' invading tyrant. Till we fall, 
 He shall not pour his myriads on your plains. 
 But, as the gods conceal how long our strength 
 May stand unvanquish'd, or how soon may yield, 
 Waste not a moment, till consenting Greece 
 Range all her free-born numbers in the field.' 
 
 Leonidas concluded. Awful slept 
 Before the sage assembly one, supreme 
 And old in office, who address'd the king 
 
 ' Thy bright example ev'ry heart unites. 
 From thee her happiest omens Greece derives 
 Of concord, safety, liberty, and fame. 
 Go then, O first of mortals, go, impress
 
 36 
 
 Amaze and terror on the barb'rous host; 
 The free-born Greeks instructing life to deem 
 Less dear than honour, and their country's cause.' 
 
 This heard, Leonidas, thy secret soul, 
 Exulting, tasted of the sweet reward 
 Due to thy name through endless time. Once more 
 His eyes he turn'd, and view'd in rapt'rous thought 
 His native land, which he alone can save; 
 Then summon'd all his majesty, and o'er 
 The Isthmus trod. The phalanx moves behind 
 In deep arrangement. So th' imperial ship, 
 With stately bulk, along the heaving tide, 
 In military pomp, conducts the pow'r 
 Of some proud navy, bounding from the port, 
 To bear the vengeance of a mighty state 
 Against a tyrant's walls. Till sultry noon 
 They march; when, halting as they take repast 
 Across the plain before them they descry 
 A troop of Thespians. One above the rest 
 In eminence precedes. His glitt'ring shield, 
 Whose gold-emblazon'd orb collects the beams 
 Cast by meridian Phoebus from his throne,
 
 37 
 
 Flames like another sun. A snowy plume, 
 
 With wanton curls disporting in the breeze, 
 
 Floats o'er his dazzling casque. On nearer view, 
 
 Beneath the radiant honours of his crest, 
 
 A countenance of youth, in rosy prime 
 
 And manly sweetness, won the fix'd regard 
 
 Of each beholder. With a modest grace 
 
 He came, respectful, tow'rd the king, and shew'd 
 
 That all ideas of his own desert 
 
 Were sunk in veneration. So the god 
 
 Of light salutes his empyreal sire ; 
 
 When from his altar, in th' embow'ring grove 
 
 Of palmy Delos, or the hallow'd bound 
 
 Of Tenedos, or Claros, where he hears 
 
 In hymns his praises from the sons of men, 
 
 He reascends the high Olympian seats: 
 
 Such reverential homage on his brow, 
 
 O'ershading, softens his effulgent bloom 
 
 With loveliness and grace. The king receives 
 
 Th' illustrious Thespian thus' My willing tongue 
 
 Would style thee Dithyrambus. Thou dost bear 
 
 All in thy aspect to become that name, 
 
 Renown'd for worth and valour. O reveal
 
 38 
 
 Thy birth, thy charge. Whoe'er thou art, my soul 
 Desires to know thee, and would call thee friend.' 
 
 To him the youth' O bulwark of our weal, 
 My name is Dithyrambus; which the lips 
 Of some benevolent, some gen'rous, friend 
 To thee have sounded in a partial strain, 
 And thou hast heard with favour. In thy sight 
 I stand, deputed by the Thespian chief, 
 The Theban, Locrian, by the fam'd in war, 
 Diomedon, to hasten thy approach. . 
 Three days will bring the hostile pow'rs in view.' 
 
 He said. The ready standards are uprear'd. 
 By zeal enforc'd, till ev'ning shadows fall 
 The march continues ; then by day-spring sweeps 
 The earliest dews. The van, by Agis led, 
 Displays the grisly face of battle, rough 
 With spears, obliquely trail'd in dreadful length 
 Along th' indented way. Beside him march'd 
 His gallant Thespian host. The center boasts 
 Leonidas, the leader, who retains 
 The good Megistias near him. In the rear
 
 39 
 
 Dieneces commanded, who in charge 
 
 Kept Menalippus, offspring of his friend, 
 
 For these instructions ' Let thine eye, young man, 
 
 Dwell on the order of our varying march; 
 
 As champaign, valley, mountain, or defile, 
 
 Require a change. The eastern tyrant thus 
 
 Conducts not his Barbarians, like the sands 
 
 In number. Yet the discipline of Greece 
 
 They will encounter, feeble as the sands 
 
 Dash'd on a rock, and scatter'd in their fall.' 
 
 To him th' inquiring youth ' The martial tread, 
 The flute's slow warble, both in just accord, 
 Entrance my senses; but let wonder ask, 
 Why is that tender vehicle of sound 
 Preferr'd in war by Sparta ? Other Greeks 
 To more sonorous music rush in fight.' 
 
 ' Son of my friend,' Dieneces rejoins, 
 ' Well dost thou note. I praise thee. Sparta's law 
 With human passions, source of human woes, 
 Maintains perpetual strife. She sternly curbs 
 Our infant hearts, till passion yields its seat
 
 40 
 
 To principle and order. Music too, 
 
 By Spartans lov'd, is temper'd by the lawj 
 
 Still to her plan subservient, melts in notes 
 
 Which cool and sooth, not irritate and warm. 
 
 Thus, by habitual abstinence apply'd 
 
 To ev'ry sense, suppressing nature's fire 
 
 By modes of duty, not by ardour sway'd, 
 
 O'er each impetuous enemy abroad, 
 
 At home o'er vice and pleasure we prevail.' 
 
 ' O might I merit a Laconian name!' 
 The Acarnanian answer'd ' But explain 
 What is the land we traverse? What the hill, 
 Whose parted summit in a spacious void 
 Admits a bed of clouds? And, gracious, tell 
 Whose are those suits of armour which I see 
 Borne by two Helots?' At the questions pleas'd, 
 Dieneces continues ' Those belong 
 To Alpheus and his brother. Light of foot, 
 They, disencumber'd, all at large precede 
 This pond'rous band. They guide a troop of slaves, 
 Our missile-weapon'd Helots, to observe, 
 Provide, forewarn, and obstacles remove.
 
 41 
 
 This tract is Phocis. That divided hill 
 Is fam'd Parnassus. Thence the voice divine 
 Was sent by Phoebus, summoning to death 
 The king of Sparta. From, his fruitful blood 
 A crop will spring of victory to Greece.' 
 
 ' And these three hundred, high in birth and rank, 
 All citizens of Sparta' cries the youth. 
 ( They all must bleed,' Dieneces subjoins, 
 ' All, with their leader: so the law decrees." 
 
 To him, with earnest looks, the gen'rous youth 
 ' Wilt thou not place me in that glorious hour 
 Close to thy buckler? Gratitude will brace 
 Thy pupil's arm to manifest the force 
 Of thy instruction.' ' Menalippus, no,' 
 Return'd the chief; ' Not thou of Spartan breed, 
 Nor call'd to perish. Thou, un wedded too, 
 Wouldst leave no race behind thee. Live to praise, 
 Live to enjoy, our solitary fall. 
 Reply is needless. See, the sun descends. 
 The army halts. I trust thee with a charge, 
 Son of Megistias. In my name command
 
 42 
 
 Th' attendant Helots to erect our camp. 
 We pitch our tents in Locris.' Quick the youth 
 His charge accomplish'd. From a gen'rous meal, 
 Where, at the call of Alpheus, Locris show'r'd 
 Her Amalthean plenty on her friends, 
 The sated warriors soon in slumber lose 
 The memory of toil. His watchful round 
 Dieneces, with Menalippus, takes. 
 
 The moon rode high and clear. Her light benign 
 To their pleas'd eyes a rural dwelling shew'd, 
 All unadorn'd, but seemly. Either side 
 Was fenc'd by trees high shadowing. The front 
 Look'd on a crystal pool, by feather'd tribes 
 At ev'ry dawn frequented. From the springs 
 A small redundance fed a shallow brook, 
 O'er smoothest pebbles rippling, just to wake, 
 Not startle, silence, and the ear of night 
 Entice to listen undisturb'd. Around 
 The grass was cover'd by reposing sheep, 
 Whose drowsy guard no longer bay'd the moon. 
 
 The warriors stopp'd, contemplating the seat 
 Of rural quiet. Suddenly a swain
 
 43 
 
 Steps forth. His fingers touch the breathing reed. 
 
 Uprise the fleecy train. Each faithful dog 
 
 Is rous'd. All, heedful of the wonted sound, 
 
 Their known conductor follow. Slow behind 
 
 Th' observing warriors move. Ere long they reach 
 
 A broad and verdant circle, thick enclos'd 
 
 With birches straight and tall, whose glossy rind 
 
 Is clad in silver from Diana's car. 
 
 The ground was holy, and the central spot 
 
 An altar bore to Pan. Beyond the orb 
 
 Of skreening trees, th' external circuit swarm'd 
 
 With sheep and beeves, each neighb'ring hamlet's wealth 
 
 Collected. Thither soon the swain arriv'd, 
 
 Whom, by the name of Meliboeus hail'd, 
 
 A peasant throng surrounded. As their chief, 
 
 He, nigh the altar, to his rural friends 
 
 Address'd these words. * O, sent from diff'rent lords 
 
 With contribution to the public wants, 
 
 Time presses. God of peasants, bless our course ! 
 
 Speed to the slow-pac'd ox for once impart; 
 
 That o'er these vallies, cool'd by dewy night, 
 
 We, to our summons true, ere noontide blaze, 
 
 May join Oi'leus, and his praise obtain 1 .'
 
 He ceas'd. To rustic madrigals and pipes, 
 Combin'd with bleating notes and tinkling bells, 
 With clamour shrill from busy tongues of dogs, 
 Or hollow-sounding from the deep-mouth'd ox, 
 Along the valley, herd and flock are driv'n 
 Successive; halting oft to harmless spoil 
 Of flow'rs and herbage, springing in their sight. 
 While Meliboeus marshall'd with address 
 The inoffensive host, unseen in shades, 
 Dieneces applauded, and the youth 
 Of Menalippus caution'd. ' Let no word 
 Impede the careful peasant. On his charge 
 Depends our welfare. Diligent and staid, 
 He suits his godlike master. Thou wilt see 
 That righteous hero soon. Now sleep demands 
 Our debt to nature. On a carpet dry 
 Of moss, beneath a wholesome beech, they lay, 
 Arm'd as they were. Their slumber, short, retires 
 With night's last shadow. At their warning rous'd, 
 The troops proceed. Th' admiring eye of youth 
 In Menalippus caught the morning rays, 
 To guide its travel o'er the landscape wide 
 Of cultivated hillocks, dales, and lawnsj
 
 45 
 
 Where mansions, hamlets, interpos'd; where domes 
 Rose to their gods, through consecrated shades. 
 He then exclaims. ' O say, can Jove devote 
 These fields to ravage, those abodes to flames?' 
 
 The Spartan answers. ' Ravage, sword, and fire, 
 Must be endur'd, as incidental ills. 
 Suffice it these invaders, soon or late, 
 Will leave this soil more fertile by their blood, 
 With spoils abundant to rebuild the fanes. 
 Precarious benefits are these, thou seest, 
 So fram'd by heav'nj but virtue is a good 
 No foe can spoil, and lasting to the grave.' 
 
 Beside the public way, an oval fount 
 Of marble sparkled with a silver spray 
 Of falling rills, collected from above. 
 The army halted, and their hollow casques 
 Dipp'd in the limpid stream. Behind it rose 
 An edifice, compos'd of native roots, 
 And oaken trunks, of knotted girth unwrought. 
 Within were beds of moss. Old, batter'd, arms 
 Hung from the roof. The curious chiefs approach.
 
 46 
 
 These words, engraven on a tablet rude, 
 
 Megistias reads ; the rest in silence hear. 
 
 ' Yon marble fountain, by Oi'leus plac'd, 
 
 To thirsty lips in living water flows; 
 
 For weary steps he fram'd this cool retreat; 
 
 A grateful off'ring here to rural peace, 
 
 His dinted shield, his helmet, he resign'd. 
 
 O passenger, if, born to noble deeds, 
 
 Thou wouldst obtain perpetual grace from Jove, 
 
 Devote thy vigour to heroic toils, 
 
 And thy decline to hospitable cares. 
 
 Rest here; then seek Oi'leus in his vale.' 
 
 ' O Jove,' burst forth Leonidas, ' thy grace 
 Is large and various. Length of days and bliss 
 To him thou giv'st, to me a shorten'd term, 
 Nor yet less happy. Grateful, we confess 
 Thy different bounties, measur'd full to both. 
 Come, let us seek Oi'leus in his vale.' 
 
 The word is giv'n. The heavy phalanx moves. 
 The light pac'd Helots long, ere morning dawn'd, 
 Had recommenc'd their progress. They o'ertook
 
 47 
 
 Blithe Meliboeus in a spacious vale, 
 
 The fruitfullest in Locris, ere the sun 
 
 Shot forth his noontide beams. On either side 
 
 A surface scarce perceptibly ascends. 
 
 Luxuriant vegetation crowds the soil 
 
 With trees close rang'd and mingling. Rich the loads 
 
 Of native fruitage to the sight reveal 
 
 Their vig'rous nurture. There the flushing peach, 
 
 The apple, citron, almond, pear, and date, 
 
 Pomegranates, purple mulberry, and fig, 
 
 From interlacing branches mix their hues 
 
 And scents, the passenger's delight ; but leave 
 
 In the mid vale a pasture long and large, 
 
 Exuberant in vivid verdure, cropp'd 
 
 By herds, by flocks, innum'rous. Neighb'ring knolls 
 
 Are speckled o'er with cots, whose humble roofs 
 
 To herdsmen, shepherds, and laborious hinds, 
 
 Once yielded rest unbroken, till the name 
 
 Of Xerxes shook their quiet. Yet this day 
 
 Was festive. Swains and damsels, youth and age, 
 
 From toil, from home enlarg'd, disporting, fill'd 
 
 Th' enliv'n'd meadow. Under ev'ry shade 
 
 A hoary minstrel sat; the maidens danc'd;
 
 48 
 
 Flocks bleated; oxen low'd; the horses neigh'd; 
 
 With joy the vale resounded ; terror fled ; 
 
 Leonidas was nigh. The welcome news 
 
 By Melibceus, hast'ning to his lord, 
 
 Was loudly told. The Helots too appear'd. 
 
 While with his brother Alpheus thus discours'd 
 
 ' In this fair valley old Oi'leus dwells, 
 The first of Locrians, of Laconia's state 
 The public host. Yon large pavilions mark. 
 They promise welcome. Thither let us bend, 
 There tell our charge.' This said, they both advance. 
 A hoary band receives them. One, who seem'd 
 In rank, in age, superior, wav'd his hand 
 To Melibceus, standing near, and spake 
 
 ' By this my faithful messenger I learn 
 That you are friends. Nor yet th' invader's foot 
 Hath pass'd our confines. Else, o'ercast by time, 
 My sight would scarce distinguish friend or foe, 
 A Grecian or Barbarian.' Alpheus then 
 
 ' We come from Lacedaemon, of our king
 
 49 
 
 Leonidas forerunners.' ' Is he nigh?' 
 
 The cordial senior tenderly exclaims 
 
 ' I am Oi'leus. Him a beardless boy 
 
 I knew in Lacedaemon. Twenty years 
 
 Are since elaps'd. He scarce remembers me. 
 
 But I will feast him, as becomes my zeal, 
 
 Him and his army. You, my friends, repose.' 
 
 They sit. He still discourses ' Spartan guests, 
 In me an aged soldier you behold. 
 From Ajax, fam'd in Agamemnon's war, 
 Oilcan Ajax, flows my vital stream, 
 Unmix'd with his presumption. I have borne 
 The highest functions in the Locrian state, 
 Not with dishonour. Self-dismiss'd, my age 
 Hath in this valley on my own demesne 
 Liv'd tranquil, not recluse. My comrades these, 
 Old magistrates and warriors, like myself, 
 Releas'd from public care, with me retir'd 
 To rural quiet. Through our last remains 
 Of time in sweet garrulity we slide, 
 Recounting pass'd achievements of our prime; 
 Nor wanting lib'ral means for lib'ral deeds;
 
 50 
 
 Here bless'd, here blessing, we reside. These flocks. 
 These herds and pastures, these our num'rous hinds, 
 And poverty hence exil'd, may divulge 
 Our generous abundance. We can spread 
 A banquet for an army. By the state 
 Once more entreated, we accept a charge, 
 To age well suited. By our watchful care 
 The goddess Plenty in your tents shall dwell.' 
 
 He scarce had finish'd when the ensigns broad 
 Of Lacedaemon's phalanx down the vale 
 Were seen to wave, unfolding at the sound 
 Of flutes, soft warbling in th' expressive mood 
 Of Dorian sweetness, unadorn'd. Around, 
 In notes of welcome, ev'ry shepherd tun'd 
 His sprightly reed. The damsels shew'd their hair, 
 Diversify'd with flowrets. Garlands gay, 
 Rush-woven baskets, glowing with the dies 
 Of amaranths, of jasmin, roses, pinks, 
 And violets, they carry, tripping light 
 Before the steps of grimly-featur'd Mars, 
 To blend the smiles of Flora with his frown. 
 Leonidas they chant in silvan lays,
 
 51 
 
 Him the defender of their meads and groves, 
 Him, more than Pan, a guardian to their flocks. 
 While Philomela, in her poplar shade, 
 Awaken'd, strains her emulating throat, 
 And joins, with liquid trills, the swelling sounds. 
 
 Behold, Oi'leus and his ancient train 
 Accost Laconia's king, whose looks and words 
 Confess remembrance of the Locrian chief. 
 
 ' Thrice hail, Oi'leus, Sparta's noble host! 
 Thou art of old acquainted with her sons, 
 Their laws, their manners. Musical as brave, 
 Train'd to delight, in smooth Terpander's lay, 
 In Alcman's Dorian measure, we enjoy, 
 In thy melodious vale, th' unlabour'd strains 
 Of rural pipes, to nightingales attun'd. 
 Our heart-felt gladness deems the golden age 
 Subsisting where thou govern'st. Still these tones 
 Of joy continu'd may thy dwellings hear! 
 Still may this plenty, unmolested, crown 
 The favour'd district! May thy reverend dust 
 Have peaceful shelter in thy father's tomb ! 
 Kind heav'n, that merit to my sword impart!'
 
 52 
 
 By joy uplifted, forth Oileus broke 
 ' Thou dost recall me then ! O, sent to guard 
 These fruits from spoil, these hoary locks from shame, 
 Permit thy weary 'd soldiers to partake 
 Of Locrian plenty. Enter thou my tents, 
 Thou and thy captains. I salute them all.' 
 
 The hero, full of dignity and years, 
 Once bold in action, placed now in ease, 
 Ev'n by his look, benignly cast around, 
 Gives lassitude relief. With native grace, 
 With heart-effus'd complacency, the king 
 Accepts the lib'ral welcome j while his troops, 
 To relaxation and repast dismiss'd, 
 Pitch on the wounded green their bristling spears. 
 
 Still is the ev'ning. Under chesnut shades, 
 With interweaving poplars, spacious stands 
 A well-fram'd tent. There calm the heroes sit, 
 The genial board enjoy, and feast the mind 
 On sage discourse) which thus Oi'leus clos'd 
 
 ' Behold, night lifts her signal, to invoke
 
 53 
 
 That friendly god who owns the drowsy wand. 
 
 To Mercury this last libation flows. 
 
 Farewell till morn.' They separate, they sleep; 
 
 All but Oileus, who forsakes the tent. 
 
 On Meliboeus in these words he calls 
 
 ' Approach, my faithful friend.' To him the swain 
 
 ' Thy bondman hears thy call.' The chief replies 
 
 Loud, for the gath'ring peasantry to heed 
 
 ' Come, Melibceus, it is surely time 
 That my repeated gift, the name of friend, 
 Thou shouldst accept. The name of bondman wounds 
 My ear. Be free. No longer, best of men, 
 Reject that boon; nor let my feeble head, 
 To thee a debtor, as to gracious heav'n, 
 Descend and sleep unthankful in the grave. 
 Though yielding nature daily feels decay, 
 Thou dost prevent all care. The gods estrange 
 Pain from my pillow, have secur'd my breast 
 From weeds, too oft in aged soils profuse, 
 From self-tormenting petulance and pride, 
 From jealousy and envy at the fame 
 Of younger men. Leonidas will dim
 
 54 
 
 My former lustre, as that silver orb 
 Outshines the meanest star; and I rejoice. 
 O Meliboeus, these elect of Jove 
 To certain death advance. Immortal pow'rs! 
 How social, how endearing is their speech ! 
 How flow in lib'ral cheerfulness their hearts! 
 To such a period verging, men like these 
 Age well may envy, and that envy take 
 The genuine shape of virtue. Let their span 
 Of earthly being, while it lasts, contain 
 Each earthly joy. Till bless'd Elysium spread 
 Her ever-blooming, inexhausted stores 
 To their glad sight, be mine the grateful task 
 To drain my plenty. From the vaulted caves 
 Our vessels large of well-fermented wine, 
 From all our gran'ries lift the treasur'd corn. 
 Go, load the groaning axles. Nor forget 
 With garments new to greet Melissa's nymphs. 
 To her a triple change of vestments bear, 
 With twenty lambs and twenty speckled kids. 
 Be it your care, my peasants, some to aid 
 Him, your director, others to select 
 Five hundred oxen, thrice a thousand sheep,
 
 55 
 
 Of lusty swains a thousand. Let the morn, 
 When first she blushes, see my will perform'd.' 
 
 They heard. Their lord's injunctions to fulfil 
 Was their ambition. He, unresting, mounts 
 A ready car. The coursers had enroll'd 
 His name in Isthmian and Nemean games. 
 By moon-light, floating on the splendid reins, 
 He, o'er the busy vale intent, is borne 
 From place to place ; o'erlooks, directs, forgets 
 That he is old. Meantime the shades of night, 
 Retiring, wake Dieneces. He gives 
 The word. His pupil seconds. Ev'ry band 
 Is arm'd. Day opens. Sparta's king appears. 
 Oi'leus greets him. In his radiant car 
 The senior stays, reluctant; but his guest 
 So wills, in Spartan reverence to age. 
 Then spake the Locrian. ' To assist thy camp 
 A chosen band of peasants I detach. 
 I trust thy valour. Doubt not thou my care j 
 Nor doubt that swain.' Oi'leus, speaking, look'd 
 On Meliboeus. Skilful he commands 
 These hinds. ' Him wise, him faithful, I have prov'd,
 
 56 
 
 More than Eumaeus to Laertes' son. 
 To him th' Oetaean woods, their devious tracks, 
 Are known, each rill and fountain. Near the pass 
 Two thousand Locrians wilt thou find encamp'd, 
 My eldest born their leader, Medon nam'd, 
 Well exercis'd in arms. My daughter dwells 
 On Oeta. Sage Melissa she is call'd, 
 Enlighten'd priestess of the tuneful nine. < 
 She haply may accost thee. Thou wilt lend 
 An ear. Not fruitless are Melissa's words. 
 Now, servants, bring the sacred wine.' Obey'd, 
 He, from his seat uprising, thus proceeds 
 
 ' Lo! from this chalice a libation pure 
 To Mars, to Grecian liberty and laws, 
 To their protector, eleutherian Jove, 
 To his nine daughters, who record the brave, 
 To thy renown, Leonidas, I pour; 
 And take an old man's benediction too.' 
 
 He stopt. Affection, struggling in his heart, 
 Burst forth again ' Illustrious guest, afford 
 Another hour! That slender space of time
 
 57 
 
 Yield to my sole possession. While the troops, 
 Already glitt'ring down the dewy vale, 
 File through its narrow'd outlet, near my side 
 Deign to be carry'd, and my talk endure.' 
 
 The king, well pleas'd, ascends. Slow move the steeds 
 Behind the rear. Oi'leus grasps his hand, 
 Then, in the fulness of his soul, pursues 
 
 ' Thy veneration for Laconia's laws 
 That I may strengthen, may to rapture warm, 
 Hear me display the melancholy fruits 
 Of lawless will. When o'er the Lydian plains 
 Th' innumerable tents of Xerxes spread, 
 His vassal, Pythius, who in affluent means 
 Surpasses me, as that Barbarian prince 
 Thou dost in virtue, entertain'd the host, 
 And proffer'd all his treasures. These the king 
 Refusing, ev'n augmented from his own. 
 An act of fancy, not habitual grace, 
 A sparkling vapour through the regal gloom 
 Of cruelty and pride. He now prepar'd 
 To march from Sardis, when with humble tears
 
 53 
 
 The good old man besought him " Let the king, 
 
 Propitious, hear a parent! In thy train 
 
 I have five sons. Ah! leave my eldest born, 
 
 Thy future vassal, to sustain my age!' 
 
 The tyrant fell reply'd ' Presumptuous man, 
 
 Who art my slave, in this tremendous war 
 
 Is not my person hazarded, my race, 
 
 My consort? Former merit saves from death 
 
 Four of thy offspring. Him, so dearly priz'd, 
 
 Thy folly hath destroy'd.' His body straight 
 
 Was hewn asunder. By the public way 
 
 On either side a bleeding half was cast, 
 
 And millions pass'd between. O, Spartan king, 
 
 Taught to revere the sanctity of laws, 
 
 The acts of Xerxes with thy own compare, 
 
 His fame with thine. The curses of mankind 
 
 Give him renown. He marches to destroy, 
 
 But thou to save. Behold the trees are bent, 
 
 Each eminence is loaded thick with crowds, 
 
 From cots, from ev'ry hamlet pour'd abroad, 
 
 To bless thy steps, to celebrate thy praise.' 
 
 Ofttimes the king his decent brow inclin'd,
 
 59 
 
 Mute and obsequious to an elder's voice, 
 
 Which through th' instructed ear unceasing flow'd, 
 
 In eloquence and knowledge. Scarce an hour 
 
 Was fled. The narrow dale was left behind. 
 
 A causeway broad disclos'd an ancient pile 
 
 Of military fame. A trophy large, 
 
 Compact with crested morions, targets rude, 
 
 With spears and corselets, dimm'd by eating age, 
 
 Stood near a lake pellucid, smooth, profound, 
 
 Of circular expanse; whose bosom shew'd 
 
 A green-slop'd island, figur'd o'er with flow'rs, 
 
 And from its centre lifting high to view 
 
 A marble chapel, on the massy strength 
 
 Of Doric columns rais'd. A full-wrought frieze 
 
 Display 'd the sculptor's art. In solemn pomp 
 
 Of obelisks, and busts, and story'd urns, 
 
 Sepulchral mansions of illustrious dead 
 
 Were scatter'd round, o'ercast with shadows black 
 
 Of yew and cypress. In a serious note 
 
 Oileus, pointing, opens new discourse 
 
 ' Beneath yon turf my ancestors repose. 
 Oi'lean Ajax singly was depriv'd
 
 6o 
 
 Of fun'ral honours there. With impious lust 
 
 He stain'd Minerva's temple. From the gulph 
 
 Of briny waters by their god preserv'd, 
 
 That god he brav'd. He lies beneath a rock, 
 
 By Neptune's trident in his wrath o erturn'd. 
 
 Shut from Elysium for a hundred years, 
 
 The hero's ghost bewail'd his oozy tomb. 
 
 A race more pious on th' Oilcan house 
 
 Felicity have drawn. To ev'ry god 
 
 I owe my bliss, my early fame to Pan. 
 
 Once, on the margin of that silent pool, 
 
 In their nocturnal camp, Barbarians lay, 
 
 Awaiting morn to violate the dead. 
 
 My youth was fir'd. I summon'd, from their cots, 
 
 A rustic host. We sacrific'd to Pan, 
 
 Assail'd th' unguarded ruffians in his name. 
 
 He with his terrors smote their yielding hearts. 
 
 Not one surviv'd the fury of our swains. 
 
 Rich was the pillage. Hence that trophy rose, 
 
 Of costly blocks constructed} hence that fane, 
 
 Inscrib'd to Pan th' armipotent. O king, 
 
 Be to an old man's vanity benign. 
 
 This frowning emblem of terrific war
 
 6l 
 
 Proclaims the ardour and exploits of youth. 
 
 This, to Barbarian strangers ent'ring Greece, 
 
 Shews what I was. The marble fount thou saw'st 
 
 Of living water, whose transparent flow 
 
 Reliev'd thy march in yester sultry sun, 
 
 The cell, which ofFer'd rest on beds of moss, 
 
 Shew what I am; to Grecian neighbours shew 
 
 The hospitality of age. O age, 
 
 Where are thy graces, but in lib'ral deeds, 
 
 In bland deportment ? Would thy furrow'd cheeks 
 
 Lose the deformity of time ? Let smiles 
 
 Dwell in thy wrinkles. Then, rever'd by youth, 
 
 Thy feeble steps will find'. . . . Abruptly here 
 
 He paus'd. A manly warrior, full in sight, 
 
 Beside the trophy on his target lean'd, 
 
 Unknown to Sparta's leader, who address'd 
 
 His rev'rend host ' Thou pausest. Let me ask, 
 
 Whom do I see, resembling in his form 
 
 A demigod ?' In transport then the sage 
 
 ' It is my son, discover'd by his shield, 
 Thy brave auxiliar, Medonl He sustains 
 My ancient honours in his native state,
 
 62 
 
 Which kindly chose my offspring to replace 
 
 Their long-sequester'd chief. Heart- winning guest! 
 
 My life, a tide of joy, which never knew 
 
 A painful ebb, beyond its wonted mark 
 
 Flows in thy converse. Could a wish prevail, 
 
 My long and happy course should finish here.' 
 
 The chariot rested. Medon now approach'd, 
 Saluting thus Leonidas ' O king 
 Of warlike Sparta, Xerxes' host in sight 
 Begin to spread their multitude, and fill 
 The spacious Malian plain.' The king replies 
 
 ' Accept, illustrious messenger, my thanks. 
 With such a brave assistant, as the son 
 Of great Oileus, more assur'd I go 
 To face those numbers.' With his godlike friend 
 The father, now dismounting from his car, 
 Embraces Medon. In a sliding bark 
 They all are wafted to the island fane, 
 Erected by Oileus, and enrich'd 
 With his engrav'd achievements. Thence the eye 
 Of Sparta's gen'ral, in extensive scope,
 
 63 
 
 Contemplates each battalion as they wind 
 Along the pool; whose limpid face reflects 
 Their weapons, glist'ning in the early sun. 
 Them he to Pan armipotent commends, 
 His favour thus invoking ' God, whose pow'r, 
 By rumour vain, or echo's empty voice, 
 Can sink the valiant in desponding fear, 
 Can disarray whole armies, smile on these 
 Thy worshippers ! Thy own Arcadians guard ! 
 Through thee Oi'leus triumph'd. On his son, 
 On me, look down. Our shields auxiliar join 
 Against profane Barbarians, who insult 
 The Grecian gods, and meditate the fall 
 Of this thy shrine.' He said, and now, intent 
 To leave the island, on Oileus call'd. 
 
 ' He,' Medon answer'd, ' by his joy and zeal 
 Too high transported, and discoursing long, 
 Felt on his drowsy lids a balmy down 
 Of heaviness descending. He, unmark'd 
 Amid thy pious commerce with the god, 
 Was silently remov'd. The good old chief 
 On carpets, rais'd by tender, menial hands, 
 Calm in the secret sanctuary is laid.'
 
 64 
 
 His hast'ning step Leonidas restrains; 
 Thus fervent prays ' O Maia's son, best pleas'd 
 When calling slumber to a virtuous eye, 
 Watch o'er my venerable friend ! Thy balm 
 He wants, exhausted by his love to me. 
 Sweet sleep, thou soft'nest that intruding pang 
 Which gen'rous breasts, so parting, must admit.' 
 
 He said, embark'd, relanded. To his side 
 Inviting Medon, he rejoin'd the host.
 
 L E O N I D A S. 
 
 BOOK III.
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Leonidas arrives at Thermopylae about noon, on the fourth day after his 
 departure from the Isthmus. He is received by Demophilus, the 
 commander of Thespia, and by Anaxander the Theban, treacherously 
 recommending Epialtes, a Malian, who seeks, by a pompous descrip- 
 tion of the Persian power, to intimidate the Grecian leaders as they 
 are viewing the enemy's camp from the top of mount Oeta. He is 
 answered by Dieneces and Diomedon. Xerxes sends Tigranes and 
 Phraortes to the Grecian camp, who are dismissed by Leonidas, and 
 conducted back by Dithyrambus and Diomedon ; which last, incensed 
 at the arrogance of Tygranes, treats him with contempt and menaces. 
 This occasions a challenge to single combat between Diomedon and 
 Tigranes, Dithyrambus and Phraortes. Epialtes, after a conference 
 with Anaxander, declares his intention of returning to Xerxes. 
 Leonidas dispatches Agis with Meliboeus, a faithful slave of Oi'leus, 
 and high in the estimation of his lord, to view a body of Phocians, 
 who had been posted at a distance from Thermopylae for the defence 
 of another pass in mount Oeta.
 
 L E O N I D A S. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 JN ow in the van Leonidas appears, 
 
 With Medon still conferring. ' Hast thou heard,' 
 
 He said, ' among th' innumerable foes 
 
 What chiefs are most distinguished ?' ' Might we trust 
 
 To fame,' reply'd the Locrian, ' Xerxes boasts 
 
 His ablest, bravest, counsellor and chief, 
 
 In Artemisia, Caria's matchless queen. 
 
 To old Darius benefits had bound 
 
 Her lord, herself to Xerxes. Not compell'd, 
 
 Except by magnanimity, she leads 
 
 The best appointed squadron of his fleet. 
 
 No female softness Artemisia knows, 
 
 But in maternal love.. Her widow'd hand 
 
 With equity and firmness for her son 
 
 Administers the sway. Of Doric race
 
 68 
 
 She still retains the spirit, which from Greece 
 Her ancestors transplanted. Other chiefs 
 Are all Barbarians, little known to fame, 
 Save one, whom Sparta hath herself supply'd, 
 Not less than Demaratus, once her king, 
 An exile now.' Leonidas rejoins 
 
 ' Son of Ofleus, like thy father wise, 
 Like him partake my confidence. Thy words 
 Recall an aera, sadd'ning all my thoughts. 
 That injur'd Spartan shar'd the regal sway 
 With one Alas ! my brother, eldest born, 
 Unbless'd by nature, favour'd by no god, 
 Cleomenes ! Insanity of mind, 
 Malignant passions, impious acts, deform'd 
 A life concluded by his own fell hand. 
 Against his colleague, envious, he suborn'd 
 Leutychides. Him perjury and fraud 
 Plac'd on the seat, by Demaratus held 
 Unstain'd in lustre.' Here Oi'leus 1 son 
 
 ' My future service only can repay 
 Thy confidential friendship. Let us close
 
 69 
 
 The gloomy theme. Thermopylae is nigh.' 
 
 Each face in transport glows. Now Oeta rear'd 
 
 His tow'ring forehead. With impatient steps 
 
 On rush'd the phalanx, sounding paeans high; 
 
 As if the present deity of fame 
 
 Had from the summit shewn her dazzling form, 
 
 With wreaths unfading on her temples bound, 
 
 Her adamantine trumpet in her hand, 
 
 To celebrate their valour. From the van 
 
 Leonidas advances, like the sun, 
 
 When through dividing clouds his presence stays 
 
 Their sweeping rack, and stills the clam'rous wind. 
 
 The army silent halt. Their ensigns fan 
 
 The air no longer. Motionless their spears. 
 
 His eye reveals the ardour of his soul, 
 
 Which thus finds utt'rance from his eager lips 
 
 ' All hail, Thermopylae, and you, the pow'rs 
 Presiding here ! All hail, ye silvan gods, 
 Ye fountain nymphs, who send your lucid rills 
 In broken murmurs down the rugged steep ! 
 Receive us, O benignant, and support 
 The cause of Greece! Conceal the secret paths
 
 70 
 
 Which o'er these crags, and through these forests, wind, 
 
 Untrod by human feet, and trac'd alone 
 
 By your immortal footsteps! O defend 
 
 Your own recesses, nor let impious war 
 
 Profane the solemn silence of your groves ! 
 
 Then on your hills your praises shall you hear 
 
 From those, whose deeds shall tell th' approving world 
 
 That not to undeservers did ye grant 
 
 Your high protection. You, my valiant friends, 
 
 Now rouse the gen'rous spirit which inflames 
 
 Your hearts; exert the vigour of your arms; 
 
 That in the bosoms of the brave and free 
 
 Your memorable actions may survive; 
 
 May sound delightful in the ear of time, 
 
 Long as blue Neptune beats the Malian strand, 
 
 Or those tall cliffs erect their shaggy tops 
 
 So near to heav'n, your monuments of fame!' 
 
 As in some torrid region, where the head 
 Of Ceres bends beneath her golden load, 
 If from a burning brand a scatter'd spark 
 Invade the parching ground, a sudden blaze 
 Sweeps o'er the crackling champaign ; through his host,
 
 71 
 
 Not with less swiftness, to the furthest ranks 
 
 The words of great Leonidas diffus'd 
 
 A more than mortal fervour. Ev'ry heart 
 
 Distends with thoughts of glory, such as raise 
 
 The patriot's virtue, and the soldier's fire, 
 
 When danger, most tremendous in his form, 
 
 Seems in their sight most lovely. On their minds 
 
 Imagination pictures all the scenes 
 
 Of war; the purple field, the heaps of dead, 
 
 The glitt'ring trophy, pil'd with Persian arms. 
 
 But lo ! the Grecian leaders, who before 
 Were station'd near Thermopylae, salute 
 Laconia's king. The Thespian chief, ally'd 
 To Dithyrambus, first the silence breaks ; 
 An ancient warrior. From behind his casque, 
 Whose crested weight his aged temples bore, 
 The slender hairs, all silver'd o'er by time, 
 Flow'd venerably down. He thus began 
 
 * Joy now shall crown the period of my days; 
 And whether nigh my father's urn I sleep, 
 Or, slain by Persia's sword, embrace the earth,
 
 72 
 
 Our common parent, be it as the gods 
 Shall best determine. For the present hour 
 I bless their bounty, which hath giv'n my age 
 To see the brave Leonidas, and bid 
 That hero welcome on this glorious shore, 
 To fix the basis of the Grecian weal.' 
 
 Here too 'the crafty Anaxander spake 
 ' Of all the Thebans, we, rejoicing, hail 
 The king of Sparta. We obey'd his call. 
 O may oblivion o'er the shame of Thebes 
 A dark'ning veil extend ! or those alone 
 By fame be curs'd, whose impious counsels turn 
 Their countrymen from virtue! Thebes was sunk, 
 Her glory bury'd in dishonest sloth. 
 To wake her languor gen'rous Alpheus came, 
 The messenger of freedom. O accept 
 Our grateful hearts ! Thou, Alpheus, art the cause 
 That Anaxander from his native gates 
 Not single joins this host; nor tamely these, 
 My chosen friends, behind their walls remain. 
 Enough of words. Time presses. Mount, ye chiefs, 
 This loftiest part of Oeta. This o'erlooks
 
 73 
 
 The straits, and far beyond their northern mouth 
 
 Extends our sight across the Malian plain. 
 
 Behold a native, Epialtes call'd, 
 
 Who with the foe from Thracia's bounds hath march'd. 
 
 Disguis'd in seeming worth, he ended here. 
 The camp not iong had Epialtes reach 'd, 
 By race a Malian. Eloquent his tongue, 
 His heart was false and abject. He was skill'd 
 To grace perfidious counsels, and to clothe 
 In swelling phrase the baseness of his soul, 
 Foul nurse of treasons. To the tents of Greece, 
 Himself a Greek, a faithless spy he came. 
 Soon to the friends of Xerxes he repair'd, 
 The Theban chiefs, and nightly councils held 
 How to betray the Spartans, or deject 
 By consternation. Up the arduous slope 
 With him each leader to the summit climbs. 
 Thence a tremendous prospect they command, 
 Where endless plains, by white pavilions hid, 
 Spread like the vast Atlantic, when no shore, 
 No rock, no promontory, stops the sight, 
 Unbounded, as it wanders; while the moon,
 
 74 
 
 Resplendent eye of night, in fullest orb 
 
 Surveys th' interminate expanse, and throws 
 
 Her rays abroad, to deck in snowy light 
 
 The dancing billows. Such was Xerxes' camp; 
 
 A pow'r unrivall'd by the mightiest king, 
 
 Or fiercest conqu'ror, whose blood-thirsty pride, 
 
 Dissolving all the sacred ties which bind 
 
 The happiness of nations, hath upcall'd 
 
 The sleeping fury, Discord, from her den. 
 
 Not from the hundred brazen gates of Thebes, 
 
 The tow'rs of Memphis, and those pregnant fields, 
 
 Enrich'd by kindly Nile, such armies swarm'd 
 
 Around Sesostris; who with trophies fill'd 
 
 The vanquish'd east; who o'er the rapid foam 
 
 Of distant Tanais, o'er the surface broad 
 
 Of Ganges, sent his formidable name. 
 
 Nor yet in Asia's far extended bounds 
 
 E'er met such numbers ; not when Ninus led 
 
 Th' Assyrian race to conquest. Not the gates 
 
 Of Babylon along Euphrates pour'd 
 
 Such myriads arm'd; when, emptying all her streets, 
 
 The rage of dire Semiramis they bore 
 
 Beyond the Indus; there defeated, left 
 
 His blood-stain'd current turbid with their dead.
 
 75 
 
 Yet of the chiefs, contemplating this scene, 
 Not one is shaken. Undismay'd they stand; 
 Th' immeasurable camp with fearless eyes 
 They traverse; while, in meditation, near 
 The treach'rous Malian waits, collecting all 
 His pomp of words to paint the hostile pow'r; 
 Nor yet with falsehood arms his fraudful tongue 
 To feign a tale of terror. Truth, herself, 
 Beyond the reach of fiction to enhance, 
 Now aids his treason, and with cold dismay 
 Might pierce the boldest heart, unless secur'd 
 By dauntless virtue, which disdains to live 
 From liberty divorc'd. Requested soon, 
 He breaks his artful silence. ' Greeks and friends, 
 Can I behold my native Malian fields, 
 Presenting hostile millions to your sight, 
 And not in grief suppress the horrid tale 
 Which you exact from these ill-omen'd lips? 
 OnThracia's sea-beat verge I watch'd the foes; 
 Where, joining Europe to the Asian strand, 
 A mighty bridge restrain'd th' outrageous waves, 
 And stemm'd th' impetuous current; while in arms 
 The universal progeny of men
 
 76 
 
 Seem'd trampling o'er the subjugated flood 
 
 By thousands, by ten thousands. Persians, Medes, 
 
 Assyrians, Saces, Indians, swarthy files 
 
 From ^Ethiopia, Egypt's tawny sons, 
 
 Arabians, Bactrians, Parthians, all the strength 
 
 Of Asia and of Libya. Neptune groan 'd 
 
 Beneath their number, and, indignant, heav'd 
 
 His neck against th' incumbent weight. In vain 
 
 The violence of Eurus and the North, 
 
 With rag'd combin'd, against th' unyielding pile 
 
 Dash'd half the Hellespont. The eastern world 
 
 Sev'n days and nights uninterrupted pass 
 
 To cover Thracia's regions. They accept 
 
 A Persian lord. They range their hardy race 
 
 Beneath his standards. Macedonia's youth, 
 
 The brave Thessalian horse, with ev'ry Greek 
 
 Who dwells beyond Thermopylae, attend, 
 
 Assist a foreign tyrant. Sire of gods, 
 
 Who in a moment, by thy will supreme, 
 
 Canst quell the mighty in their proudest hopes, 
 
 Canst raise the weak to safety, oh impart 
 
 Thy instant succour! Interpose thy arm! 
 
 With lightning blast their standards! Oh, confound,
 
 77 
 
 With triple-bolted thunder, Asia's tents, 
 Whence rushing millions by the morn will pour 
 An inundation to o'erwhelm the Greeks! 
 Resistance else were vain against a host 
 Which overspreads Thessalia. Far beyond 
 That Malian champaign, stretching wide below, 
 Beyond the utmost measure of the sight 
 From this aspiring cliff, the hostile camp 
 Contains yet mightier numbers ; who have drain'd 
 The beds of copious rivers with their thirst j 
 Who with their arrows hide the mid-day sun.' 
 
 ' Then we shall give them battle in the shade,' 
 Dieneces reply'd. Not calmly thus 
 Diomedon. On Persia's camp he bent 
 His low'ring brow, which frowns had furrow'd o'er, 
 Then fierce exclaim'd ' Bellona, turn, and view 
 W r ith joyful eyes that field, the fatal stage 
 By regal madness for thy rage prepar'd 
 To exercise its horrors! Whet thy teeth, 
 Voracious death! All Asia is thy prey. 
 Contagion, famine, and the Grecian sword, 
 For thy insatiate hunger will provide
 
 78 
 
 Variety of carnage.' He concludes ; 
 While on the host immense his cloudy brow 
 Is fix'd, disdainful, and their strength defies. 
 
 Meantime an eastern herald down the pass 
 Was seen, slow-moving tow'rds the Phocian wall. 
 From Asia's monarch delegated, came 
 Tygranes and Phraortes. From the hill 
 Leonidas conducts th' impatient chiefs. 
 By them environ'd, in his tent he sits; 
 Where thus Tigranes their attention calls 
 
 ' Ambassadors from Persia's king, we stand 
 Before you, Grecians. To display the pow'r 
 Of our great master were a needless task. 
 The name of Xerxes, Asia's mighty lord, 
 Invincible, exalted on a throne 
 Surpassing human lustre, must have reach'd 
 To ev'ry clime, and ev'ry heart impress'd 
 With awe and low submission. Yet I swear, 
 By yon refulgent orb which flames above, 
 The glorious symbol of eternal pow'r, 
 This military throng, this shew of war,
 
 79 
 
 Well nigh persuade me you have never heard 
 That name, at whose commanding sound the banks 
 Of Indus tremble, and the Caspian wave, 
 Th' ^Egyptian flood, the Hellespontic surge, 
 Obedient roll. O impotent and rash ! 
 Whom yet the large beneficence of heav'n, 
 And heav'nly Xerxes, merciful and kind, 
 Deign to preserve, resign your arms! Disperse 
 All to your cities! There let humblest hands 
 With earth and water greet your destin'd lord.' 
 
 As through th' extensive grove, whose leafy boughs, 
 Entwining, crown some eminence with shade, 
 The tempests rush sonorous, and between 
 The crashing branches roar ; by fierce disdain, 
 By indignation, thus the Grecians, rous'd, 
 In loudest clamour close the Persian's speech. 
 But ev'ry tongue was hush'd, when Sparta's king 
 This brief reply deliver'd from his seat 
 
 ' O Persian, when to Xerxes thou return'st, 
 Say thou hast told the wonders of his pow'r. 
 Then say thou saw'st a slender band of Greece, 
 Which dares his boasted millions to the field.'
 
 80 
 
 He adds no more. Th' ambassadors retire. 
 Them o'er the limits of the Grecian lines 
 Diomedon and Thespia's youth conduct. 
 In slow solemnity they all proceed, 
 And sullen silence 5 but their looks denote 
 Far more than speech could utter. Wrath contracts 
 The forehead of Diomedon. His teeth 
 Gnash with impatience of delay'd revenge. 
 Disdain, which sprung from conscious merit, flush'd 
 The cheek of Dithyrambus. On the face 
 Of either Persian, arrogance, incens'd 
 By disappointment, lour'd. The utmost strait 
 They now attain'd, which open'd on the tents 
 Of Asia, there discov'ring wide to view 
 Her deep, immense arrangement. Then the heart 
 Of vain Tigranes, swelling at the sight, 
 Thus overflows in loud and haughty phrase 
 
 ' O Arimanius, origin of ill, 
 Have we demanded of thy ruthless pow'r 
 Thus with the curse of madness to afflict 
 These wretched men? But, since thy dreadful ire 
 To irresistible perdition dooms
 
 81 
 
 The Grecian race, we vainly should oppose. 
 Be thy dire will accomplish'd. Let them fall, 
 Their native soil be fatten'd with their blood." 
 
 Enrag'd, the stern Diomedon replies 
 ' Thou base dependant on a lawless king, 
 Thou purple slave, thou boaster, dost thou know, 
 That I beheld the Marathonian field ? 
 Where, like the Libyan sands before the wind, 
 Your host was scatter'd by Athenian spears ? 
 Where thou, perhaps by ignominious flight, 
 Didst from this arm protect thy shiv'ring limbs ? 
 O let me find thee in to-morrow's fight! 
 Along this rocky pavement shalt thou lie, 
 To dogs a banquet.' With uplifted palms, 
 Tigranes then ' Omnipotent support 
 Of scepter 'd Xerxes, Horomazes, hear! 
 To thee his first victorious fruits of war 
 Thy worshipper devotes, the gory spoils, 
 Which from this Grecian, by the rising dawn, 
 In sight of either host, my strength shall rend.' 
 
 At length Phraortes, interposing, spake 
 
 Q
 
 82 
 
 ' I too would find, among the Grecian chiefs, 
 One who in battle dares abide my lance.' 
 
 The gallant youth of Thespia swift reply' d 
 ' Thou look'st on me, O Persian. Worthier far 
 Thou might'st have singled from the ranks of Greece, 
 Not one more willing, to essay thy force. 
 Yes, I will prove, before the eye of Mars, 
 How far the prowess of her meanest chief 
 Beyond thy vaunts deserves the palm of fame.' 
 
 This said, the Persians to their king repair j 
 Back to their camp the Grecians. There they find 
 Each soldier poising his extended spear, 
 His weighty buckler bracing on his arm, 
 In warlike preparation. Through the files 
 Each leader, moving vigilant, by praise, 
 By exhortation, aids their native warmth. 
 Alone the Theban Anaxander pin'd, 
 Who thus apart his Malian friend bespake 
 
 ' What has thy lofty eloquence avail'd, 
 Alas! in vain attempting to confound
 
 83 
 
 The Spartan valour? With redoubled fires, 
 See how their bosoms glow. They wish to diej 
 They wait impatient for th' unequal fight. 
 Too soon th' insuperable foes will spread 
 Promiscuous havock round, and Thebans share 
 The doom of Spartans. Through the guarded pass 
 Who will adventure Asia's camp to reach 
 In our behalf? that Xerxes may be warn'd 
 To spare his friends amid the gen'ral wreck} 
 When his high-swoln resentment, like a flood 
 Increas'd by stormy show'rs, shall cover Greece 
 With desolation.' Epialtes here 
 
 'Whence, Anaxander, this unjust despair? 
 Is there a path on Oeta's hills unknown 
 To Epialtes ? Over trackless rocks, 
 Through mazy woods, my secret steps can pass. 
 Farewell! I go. Thy merit shall be told 
 To Persia's king. Thou only watch the hour; 
 When wanted most, thy ready succour lend.' 
 
 Meantime a weary, comprehensive care 
 To ev'ry part Leonidas extends;
 
 84 
 
 As in the human frame through ev'ry vein, 
 
 And artery minute, the ruling heart 
 
 Its vital pow'rs disperses. In his tent 
 
 The prudent chief of Locris he consults j 
 
 He summons Meliboeus by the voice 
 
 Of Agis. In humility not mean, 
 
 By no unseemly ignorance depress'd, 
 
 Th' ingenuous swain, by all th' illustrious house 
 
 Of Ajax honour'd, bows before the king, 
 
 Who gracious spake ' The confidence bestow'd, 
 
 The praise by sage Oi'leus might suffice 
 
 To verify thy worth. Myself have watch'd, 
 
 Have found thee skilful, active, and discreet. 
 
 Thou know'st the region round. With Agis go, 
 
 The upper straits, the Phocian camp, explore.' 
 
 ' O condescension!' Melibreus then, 
 More ornamental to the great than gems, 
 A purple robe, or diadem ! The king 
 Accepts my service. Pleasing is my task. 
 Spare not thy servant. Exercise my zeal. 
 Oi'leus will rejoice, and, smiling, say 
 An humble hand may smooth a hero's path.'
 
 85 
 
 He leads the way, while Agis, following, spake 
 ' O swain, distinguish'd by a lib'ral mind, 
 Who were thy parents ? Where thy place of birth ? 
 What chance depriv'd thee of a father's house? 
 Oi'leus sure thy liberty would grant, 
 Or Sparta's king solicit for that grace ; 
 When in a station equal to thy worth 
 Thou may'st be rank'd.' The prudent hind began 
 
 ' In different stations diff'rent virtues dwell, 
 All reaping diff'rent benefits. The great 
 In dignity and honours meet reward 
 For acts of bounty and heroic toils. 
 A servant's merit is obedience, truth, 
 Fidelity; his recompense content. 
 Be not offended at my words, O chief ! 
 They, who are free, with envy may behold 
 This bondman of Oi'leus. To his trust, 
 His love exalted, I by nature's pow'r, 
 From his pure model, could not fail to mould 
 What thou entitlest lib'ral. Whence I came, 
 Or who my parents, is to me unknown. 
 In childhood seiz'd by robbers, I was sold.
 
 86 
 
 They took their price; they hush'd th 1 atrocious deed. 
 Dear to Oi'leus and his race, I throve; 
 And, whether noble or ignoble born, 
 I am contented, studious of their love 
 Alone. Ye sons of Sparta, I admire 
 Your acts, your spirit, but confine my own 
 To their condition, happy in my lord, 
 Himself of men most happy.' Agis bland 
 Rejoins. ' O born with talents to become 
 A lot more noble, which, by thee refus'd, 
 Thou dost the more deserve ! Laconia's king 
 Discerns thy merit through its modest veil. 
 Consummate prudence in thy words I hear. 
 Long may contentment, justly priz'd, be thine ! 
 But, should the state demand thee, I foresee 
 Thou wouldst, like others, in the field excel, 
 Wouldst share in glory.' Blithe return'd the swain 
 
 ' Not ev'ry service is confin'd to arms. 
 Thou shalt behold me in my present state 
 Not useless. If the charge Oi'leus gave 
 I can accomplish, meriting his praise 
 And thy esteem, my glory will be full.'
 
 87 
 
 Both pleas'd, in converse thus pursue their way, 
 Where Oeta lifts her summits huge to heav'n 
 In rocks abrupt, pyramidal, or tower'd, 
 Like castles. Sudden from a tufted crag, 
 Where goats are browsing, Meliboeus hears 
 A call of welcome. There his course he stays.
 
 LEON IDAS. 
 
 BOOK IV.
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Tigranes and Phraortes repair to Xerxes, whom they find seated on a 
 throne, surrounded by his Satraps, in a magnificent pavilion ; while 
 the Magi stand before him, and sing a hymn, containing the religion 
 of Zoroastres. Xerxes, notwithstanding the arguments of his bro- 
 thers, Hyperanthes and Abrocomes, gives no credit to the ambassa- 
 dors, who report that the Grecians are determined to maintain the 
 pass against him ; but, by the advice of Artemisia, the queen of Caria, 
 ascends his chariot, to take a view of the Grecians himself, and com- 
 mands Demaratus, an exiled king of Sparta, to attend him. He 
 passes through the midst of his army, consisting of many nations, 
 differing in arms, customs, and manners. He advances to the en- 
 trance of the straits, and, surprised at the behaviour of the Spartans, 
 demands the reason of it from Damaratus ; which occasions a conver- 
 sation between them, on the mercenary forces of Persia and the mi- 
 litia of Greece. Demaratus, weeping at the sight of his countrymen, 
 is comforted by Hyperanthes. Xerxes, still incredulous, commands 
 Tigranes and Phraortes to bring the Grecians bound before him the 
 next day, and retires to his pavilion. Artemisia remains behind with 
 her son, and communicates to Hyperanthes her apprehensions of a 
 defeat at Thermopylae. She takes an accurate view of the pass, 
 chooses a convenient place for an ambuscade, and, on her departure to 
 the Persian camp, is surprised by a reproof from a woman of an aw- 
 ful appearance on a' cliff of mount Oeta.
 
 LEONIDAS. 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 TH E plain beyond Thermopylae is girt 
 Half round by mountains, half by Neptune lav'd. 
 The arduous ridge is broken deep in clefts, 
 Which open channels to pellucid streams, 
 In rapid flow sonorous. Chief in fame, 
 Spercheos, boasting once his poplars tall, 
 Foams down a stony bed. Throughout the face 
 Of this broad champaign, numberless, are pitch'd 
 Barbarian tents. Along the winding flood 
 To rich Thessalia's confines they extend. 
 They fill the vallies, late profusely bless'd 
 In nature's vary'd beauties. Hostile spears 
 Now bristle horrid through her languid shrubs. 
 Pale die her flowrets under barb'rous feet.
 
 Embracing ivy from its rock is torn. 
 
 The lawn, dismantled of its verdure, fades. 
 
 The poplar groves, uprooted from the banks, 
 
 Leave desolate the stream. Elab'rate domes, 
 
 To heav'n devoted in recesses green, 
 
 Had felt rude force, insensible and blind 
 
 To elegance and art. The statues, busts, 
 
 The figur'd vases, mutilated, lie, 
 
 With chisel'd columns, their engraven frieze, 
 
 Their architrave and cornice, all disjoin'd. 
 
 Yet, unpolluted, is a part reserv'd 
 In this deep vale, a patrimonial spot 
 Of Aleuadian princes, who, allies 
 To Xerxes, reign'd in Thessaly. There glow 
 Inviolate the shrubs. There branch the trees, 
 Sons of the forest. Over downy moss 
 Smooth walks and fragrant, lucid here and broad, 
 There clos'd in myrtle under woodbine roofs, 
 Wind to retreats delectable, to grots, 
 To silvan structures, bow'rs, and cooling dells, 
 Enliven'd all, and musical, with birds 
 Of vocal sweetness, in relucent plumes
 
 93 
 
 Innumerably various. Lulling falls 
 Of liquid crystal, from perennial founts, 
 Attune their pebbled channels. Here the queen, 
 The noble dames of Persia ; here the train 
 Of royal infants, each with eunuch guards, 
 In rich pavilions, dazzling to the sight, 
 Possess'd, remote from onset and surprise, 
 A tranquil station. Ariana here, 
 Ill-destin'd princess, from Darius sprung, 
 Hangs, undelighted, o'er melodious rills 
 Her drooping forehead. Love-afflicted fair! 
 All inharmonious are the feather'd choirs 
 To her sad ear. From flow'rs and florid plants, 
 To her the breezes, wafting fresh perfumes, 
 Transmit no pleasure. Sedulous in vain, 
 Her tender slaves, in harmony, with lutes 
 Of soothing sound, their warbled voices blend 
 To charm her sadness. This, the precious part 
 Of Asia's camp, Artuchus holds in chargej 
 A Satrap, long experienc'd, who presides 
 O'er all the regal palaces. High rank'd, 
 Bold, resolute, and faithful, he commands 
 The whole Sperchean vale. In prospect rise
 
 94 
 
 The distant navy, dancing on the foam, 
 
 Th' unbounded camp, enveloping the plain, 
 
 With Xerxes' tent, august in structure, plac'd 
 
 A central object, to attract the eyes 
 
 Of subject millions. Thither now resort 
 
 Tigranes and Phraortes. Him they find 
 
 Enclos'd by princes, by illustrious chiefs, 
 
 The potentates of Asia. Near his side 
 
 Abrocomes and Hyperanthes wait, 
 
 His gallant brothers, with Mazaeus brave, 
 
 Pandates, Intaphernes, mighty lords! 
 
 Their sceptred master from his radiant seat 
 
 Looks down, imperious. So the stately tow'r 
 
 Of Belus, mingling its majestic brow 
 
 With heav'n's bright azure, from on high survey'd 
 
 The huge extent of Babylon, with all 
 
 Her sumptuous domes and palaces beneath. 
 
 This day his banners to unfurl in Greece 
 
 The monarch's will decides; but first ordains 
 
 That grateful hymns should celebrate the name 
 
 Of Horomazes- so the Persians call'd 
 
 The world's great author. Rob'd in purest white, 
 
 The Magi rang'd before th' unfolded tent.
 
 95 
 
 Fire blaz'd beside them. Tow'rds the sacred flame 
 They turn'd, and sent their tuneful praise to heav'n. 
 
 From Zoroastres was the song deriv'd, 
 Who on the hills of Persia, from his cave, 
 By flow'rs environ'd, and melodious founts, 
 Which sooth'd the solemn mansion, had reveal'd 
 How Horomazes, radiant source of good, 
 Original, immortal, fram'd the globe 
 In fruitfulness and beauty : how with stars 
 By him the heav'ns were spangled: how the sun, 
 Refulgent Mithra, purest spring of light 
 And genial warmth, whence teeming nature smiles, 
 Burst from the east at his creating voice; 
 When, straight beyond the golden verge of day, 
 Night shew'd the horrors of her distant reign, 
 Where black and hateful Arimanius frown'd, 
 The author foul of evil : how with shades 
 From his dire mansion he deform'd the works 
 Of Horomazes : turn'd to noxious heat 
 The solar beam, that foodful earth might parch j 
 That streams, exhaling, might forsake their beds; 
 Whence pestilence and famine : how the pow'r
 
 96 
 
 Of Horomazes in the human breast 
 
 Benevolence and equity infus'd, 
 
 Truth, temperance, and wisdom, sprung from heav'n: 
 
 When Arimanius blacken'd all the soul 
 
 With falsehood and injustice, with desires 
 
 Insatiable, with violence and rage, 
 
 Malignity and folly. If the hand 
 
 Of Horomazes on precarious life 
 
 Sheds wealth and pleasure, swift th' infernal god, 
 
 With wild excess or av'rice, blasts the joy. 
 
 Thou, Horomazes, victory dost give. 
 
 By thee with fame the regal head is crown'd. 
 
 Great Xerxes owns thy succour. When in storms 
 
 The hate of direful Arimanius swell'd 
 
 The Hellespont, thou o'er its chafing breast 
 
 The destin'd master of the world didst lead, 
 
 This day his promis'd glories to enjoy: 
 
 When Greece affrighted to his arm shall bend 5 
 
 Ev'n as at last shall Arimanius fall 
 
 Before thy might, and evil be no more. 
 
 The Magi ceas'd their harmony. Behold, 
 From her tall ship, between a double row
 
 97 
 
 Of naval warriors, while a golden ray 
 
 Shoots from her standard, Artemisia lands. 
 
 In her enrich'd accoutrements of war, 
 
 The full-wrought buckler and high-crested helm, 
 
 In Caria first devis'd, across the beach 
 
 Her tow' ring form advances. So the pine, 
 
 From Taurus hewn, mature in spiry pride, 
 
 Now by the sailor, in its canvas wings, 
 
 Voluminous, and dazzling pendants dress'd, 
 
 On Artemisia's own imperial deck 
 
 Is seen to rise, and overtop the grove 
 
 Of crowded masts surrounding. In her heart 
 
 Deep scorn of courtly counsellors she bore, 
 
 Who fill with impious vanity their king; 
 
 As when he lash'd the Hellespont with rods, 
 
 Amid the billows cast a golden chain 
 
 To fetter Neptune. Yet her brow severe 
 
 Unbent its rigour often, as she glanc'd 
 
 On her young son, who, pacing near in arms 
 
 Of Carian guise, proportion'd to his years, 
 
 Look'd up, and waken'd, by repeated smiles, 
 
 Maternal fondness, melting in that eye 
 
 Which scowl'd on purpled flatterers. Her seat
 
 98 
 
 At the right hand of Xerxes she assumes, 
 Invited ; while in adoration bow'd 
 Tigranes and Phraortes. Prone they lay; 
 Across their foreheads spread their servile palms, 
 As from a present deity, too bright 
 For mortal vision, to conceal their eyes. 
 At length, in abject phrase, Tigranes thus 
 
 ' O Xerxes, live for ever! Gracious lord, 
 Who dost permit thy servants to approach 
 Thy awful sight, and prostrate to confess 
 Thy majesty and radiance! May the pow'r 
 Of Horomazes stretch thy regal arm 
 O'er endless nations, from the Indian shores 
 To those wide floods which beat Iberian strands, 
 From northern Tanais to the source of Nile! 
 Still from thy head may Arimanius bend 
 Against thy foes his malice! Yonder Greeks, 
 Already smit with frenzy by his wrath, 
 Reject thy proffer'd clemency. They choose 
 To magnify thy glory by their fall.' 
 
 The monarch, turning to his brothers, spake
 
 99 
 
 ' Say, Hyperanthes, can thy soul believe 
 These tidings ? Sure these slaves have never dar'd 
 To face the Grecians, but delude our ears 
 With base impostures, which their fear suggests.' 
 
 He frown'd, and Hyperanthes calm reply'd 
 ' O from his servants may the king avert 
 His indignation ! Greece was fam'd of old 
 For martial spirit and a dauntless breed. 
 I once have try'd their valour. To my words 
 Abrocomes can witness. When thy sire 
 And ours, Darius, to Athenian shores, 
 With Artaphernes brave and Datis, sent 
 Our tender youth, at Marathon we found 
 How weak the hope that numbers could dismay 
 A foe, resolv'd on victory or death. 
 Yet not as one contemptible, or base, 
 Let me appear before thee. Though the Greeks 
 With such persisting courage be endu'd, 
 Soon as the king shall summon to the field, 
 He shall behold me in the dang'rous van 
 Exalt my spear, and pierce the hostile ranks, 
 Or sink beneath them.' Xerxes swift rejoin'd
 
 100 
 
 ' Why over Asia, and the Libyan soil, 
 With all their nations, doth my potent arm 
 Extend its sceptre? Wherefore do I sweep 
 Across the earth with millions in my train ? 
 Why shade the ocean with unnumber'd sails ? 
 Why all this pow'r, unless th' Almighty's will 
 Decreed one master to the subject world ; 
 And that the earth's extremity alone 
 Should bound my empire ? He for this reduc'd 
 The Nile's revolted sons, enlarg'd my sway 
 With sandy Libya, and the sultry clime 
 Of ^Ethiopia. He for this subdu'd 
 The Hellespontic foam, and taught the sea 
 Obedience to my nod. Then dream no more 
 That heav'n, deserting my imperial cause, 
 With courage more than human will inspire 
 Yon despicable Grecians, and expunge 
 The common fears of nature from their breasts.' 
 
 The monarch ceas'd. Abrocomes began 
 ' The king commands us to reveal our thoughts. 
 Incredulous he hears. But time and truth 
 Not Horomazes can arrest. Thy beams
 
 101 
 
 To instant light'ning, Mythra, mayst thou change 
 
 For my destruction; may th' offended king 
 
 Frown on his servant; cast a loathing eye, 
 
 If the assertion of my lips be false : 
 
 Our further march those Grecians will oppose.' 
 
 Amid th' encircling peers Argestes sat, 
 A potent prince. O'er Sipylus he reign' d, 
 Whose verdant summits overlook'd the waves 
 Of Hermus and Pactolus. Either stream, 
 Enrich'd by golden sands, a tribute pay'd 
 To this great Satrap. Through the servile court 
 Yet none was found more practis'd in the arts 
 Of mean submission; none more skill'd to gain 
 The royal favour; none who better knew 
 The phrase, the look, the gesture, of a slave; 
 None more detesting Artemisia's worth; 
 By her none more despis'd. His master's eye 
 He caught, then spake ' Display thy dazzling state, 
 Thou deity of Asia. Greece will hide 
 Before thy presence her dejected face.' 
 
 Last Artemisia, rising stern, began 
 ' Why sits the lord of Asia in his tent,
 
 102 
 
 Unprofitably wasting precious hours 
 
 In vain discussion, whether yonder Greeks, 
 
 Rang'd in defence of that important pass, 
 
 Will fight or fly ? A question by the sword 
 
 To be decided. Still to narrow straits, 
 
 By land, by sea, thy council hath confin'd 
 
 Each enterprise of war. In numbers weak, 
 
 Twice have th' Athenians in Eubosa's frith 
 
 Repuls'd thy navy. But, whate'er thy will, 
 
 Be it enforc'd by vigour. Let the king 
 
 The difference see, by trial in the field, 
 
 Between smooth sound and valour. Then dissolve 
 
 These impotent debates. Ascend thy car. 
 
 The future stage of war thyself explore. 
 
 Behind thee leave the vanity of hope, 
 
 That such a foe to splendour will submit, 
 
 Whom steel, not gold, must vanquish. Thou provide 
 
 Thy mail, Argestes. Not in silken robes, 
 
 Not as in council with an oily tongue, 
 
 But spear to spear, and clanging shield to shield, 
 
 Thou soon must grapple on a field of blood.' 
 
 The king arose. ' No more. Prepare my car.
 
 103 
 
 The Spartan exile, Demaratus, call. 
 
 We will ourselves advance to view the foe.' 
 
 The monarch will'd, and suddenly he heard 
 His trampling horses. High on silver wheels 
 The iv'ry car with azure sapphires shone, 
 Caerulean beryls, and the jasper green, 
 The emerald, the ruby's glowing blush, 
 The flaming topaz with its golden beam, 
 The pearl, th' empurpled amathyst, and all 
 The various gems, which India's mines afford 
 To deck the pomp of kings. In burnish'd gold 
 A sculptur'd eagle from behind display'd 
 His stately neck, and o'er the royal head 
 Outstretch'd his dazzling wings. Eight gen'rous steeds, 
 Which on the fam'd Nisaean plain were nurs'd 
 In wintry Media, drew the radiant car. 
 Not those of old to Hercules refus'd 
 By false Laomedon j nor they which bore 
 The son of Thetis through the scatter'd rear 
 Of Troy's devoted race, with these might vie 
 In strength or beauty. In obedient pride 
 They hear their lord. Exulting, in the air
 
 104 
 
 They toss their foreheads. On their glist'ning chests 
 
 The silver manes disport. The king ascends. 
 
 Beside his footstool Demaratus sits. 
 
 The charioteer now shakes th' effulgent reins, 
 
 Strong Patiramphes. At the signal bound 
 
 Th' attentive steeds ; the chariot flies ; behind, 
 
 Ten thousand horse in thunder sweep the field. 
 
 Down to the sea-beat margin, on a plain 
 
 Of vast expansion, in battalia wait 
 
 The eastern bands. To these th' imperial wheels, 
 
 By princes follow'd in a hundred cars, 
 
 Proceed. The queen of Caria and her son 
 
 With Hyperanthes rode. The king's approach 
 
 Swift through the wide arrangement is proclaim'd. 
 
 He now draws nigh. Th' innumerable host 
 
 Roll back by nations, and admit their lord, 
 
 With all his Satraps. As from crystal domes, 
 
 Built underneath an arch of pendant seas, 
 
 When that stern pow'r, whose trident rules the floods, 
 
 With each caerulean deity ascends, 
 
 Thron'd in his pearly chariot, all the deep 
 
 Divides its bosom to th' emerging god : 
 
 So Xerxes rode between the Asian world,
 
 105 
 
 On either side receding: when, as down 
 Th* immeasurable ranks his sight was lost, 
 A momentary gloom o'ercast his mind, 
 While this reflection fill'd his eyes with tears; 
 That, soon as time a hundred years had told, 
 Not one among those millions should survive. 
 Whence to obscure thy pride arose that cloud? 
 Was it that once humanity could touch 
 A tyrant's breast? Or rather did thy soul 
 Repine, O Xerxes, at the bitter thought 
 That all thy pow'r was mortal ? But the veil 
 Of sadness soon forsook his bright'ning eye, 
 As with adoring awe those millions bow'd, 
 And to his heart relentless pride recall'd. 
 Elate, the mingled prospect he surveys 
 Of glitt' ring files, unnumber'dj chariots, scyth'd, 
 On thund'ring axles roll'dj and haughty steeds, 
 In sumptuous trappings clad; Barbaric pomp! 
 While gorgeous banners to the sun expand 
 Their streaming volumes of relucent gold, 
 Pre-eminent, amidst tiaras gemm'd, 
 Engraven helmets, shields emboss'd, and spears 
 In number equal to the bladed grass,
 
 io6 
 
 Whose living green in vernal beauty clothes 
 Thessalia's vale. What pow'rs of sounding verse 
 Can to the mind present th' amazing scene? 
 Not thee, whom rumour's fabling voice delights, 
 Poetic fancy, to my aid I call; 
 But thou, historic truth, support my song, 
 Which shall the various multitude display, 
 Their arms, their manners, and their native seats. 
 
 The Persians first in scaly corselets shone; 
 A gen'rous nation, worthy to enjoy 
 The liberty their injur'd fathers lost, 
 Whose arms for Cyrus overturn'd the strength 
 Of Babylon and Sardis. Pow'r advanc'd 
 The victor's head above his country's laws. 
 Their tongues were practis'd in the words of truth; 
 Their limbs inur'd to ev'ry manly toil, 
 To brace the bow, to rule th' impetuous steed, 
 To dart the javelin; but, untaught to form 
 The ranks of war, with unconnected force, 
 With ineffectual fortitude, they rush'd, 
 As on a fence of adamant, to pierce 
 Th' indissoluble phalanx. Lances short,
 
 107 
 
 And osier-woven targets, they oppos'd 
 
 To weighty Grecian spears, and massy shields. 
 
 On ev'ry head tiaras rose like tow'rs, 
 
 Impenetrable. With golden gloss 
 
 Blaz'd their gay sandals, and the floating reins 
 
 Of each proud courser. Daggers on their thighs, 
 
 Well-furnish'd quivers on their shoulders, hung, 
 
 And strongest bows of mighty size they bore. 
 
 Resembling these in arms, the Medes are seen, 
 
 The Cissians and Hyrcanians. Media once 
 
 From her bleak mountains aw'd the subject east. 
 
 Her kings in cold Ecbatana were thron'd. 
 
 The Cissians march'd from Susa's regal walls, 
 
 From sultry fields, o'erspread with branching palms, 
 
 And white with lilies, water'd by the floods 
 
 Of fam'd Choaspes. His transparent wave 
 
 The costly goblet wafts to Persia's kings. 
 
 All other streams the royal lip disdains. 
 
 Hyrcania's race forsook their fruitful clime, 
 
 Dark in the shadows of expanding oaks, 
 
 To Ceres dear and Bacchus. There the corn, 
 
 Bent by its foodful burdens, sheds, unreap'd, 
 
 Its plenteous seed, impregnating the soil
 
 108 
 
 With future harvests ; whilst in ev'ry wood 
 
 Their precious labours on the loaden boughs 
 
 The honey 'd swarms pursue. Assyria's sons ' 
 
 Display their brazen casques, unskilful work 
 
 Of rude Barbarians. Each sustains a mace, 
 
 O'erlaid with iron. Near Euphrates' banks, 
 
 Within the mighty Babylonian gates, 
 
 They dwell j and where, still mightier once in sway, 
 
 Old Ninus rear'd its head, th' imperial seat 
 
 Of eldest tyrants. These Chaldaea joins, 
 
 The land of shepherds. From the pastures wide 
 
 There Belus first discern'd the various course 
 
 Of heav'n's bright planets, and the clust'ring stars, 
 
 With names distinguish'dj whence himself was deem'd 
 
 The first of gods. His sky-ascending fane 
 
 In Babylon the proud Assyrians rais'd. 
 
 Drawn from the bounteous soil, by Ochus lav'd, 
 
 The Bactrians stood, and, rough in skins of goats, 
 
 The Paricanian archers. Caspian ranks, 
 
 From barren mountains, from the joyless coast 
 
 Around the stormy lake, whose name they bore, 
 
 Their scymetars upheld, and cany bows. 
 
 The Indian tribes a threefold host compose.
 
 log 
 
 Part guide the courser, part the rapid car; 
 The rest on foot within the bending cane, 
 For slaughter, fix the iron-pointed reed. 
 They, o'er the Indus from the distant verge 
 Of Ganges passing, left a region, lov'd 
 By lavish nature. There the season bland 
 Bestows a double harvest. Honey'd shrubs, 
 The cinnamon, the spikenard, bless their fields. 
 Array 'd in native wealth, each warrior shines. 
 His ears bright-beaming pendants grace; his hands, 
 Encircled, wear a bracelet, starr'd with jems. 
 Such were the nations who to Xerxes sent 
 Their mingled aids of infantry and horse. 
 
 Now, Muse, recite what multitudes obscur'd 
 The plain on foot, or elevated high, 
 On martial axles or on camels, beat 
 The loosen' d mould. The Parthians first appear, 
 Then weak in numbers, from unfruitful hills, 
 From woods, nor yet for warlike steeds renown'd. 
 Near them the Sogdians, Dadices, arrange, 
 Gandarians and Chorasmians. Sacian throngs 
 From cold Imaus pour'd, from Oxus' wave,
 
 110 
 
 From Cyra, built on laxartes' brink, 
 A bound of Persia's empire. Wild, untam'd, 
 To fury prone, their deserts they forsook. 
 A bow, a falchion, and a pond'rous axe, 
 The savage legions arm'd. A pointed casque 
 O'er each grim visage rear'd an iron cone. 
 In arms like Persians, the Saranges stood. 
 High as their knees, the shapely buskins clung 
 Around their legs. Magnificent they trod, 
 In garments richly tinctur'd. Next are seen 
 The Pactian, Mycian, and the Utian train, 
 In skins of goats rude vested. But in spoils 
 Of tawny lions, and of spotted pards, 
 The graceful range of ^Ethiopians shews 
 An equal stature, and a beauteous frame. 
 Their torrid region had imbrown'd their cheeks, 
 And curl'd their jetty locks. In ancient song 
 Renown'd for justice, riches they disdain'd, 
 As foes to virtue. From their seat remote, 
 On Nilus' verge above th' -/Egyptian bound, 
 Forc'd by their king's malignity and pride, 
 These friends of hospitality and peace, 
 Themselves uninjur'd, wage reluctant war
 
 Ill 
 
 Against a land, whose climate and whose name 
 
 To them were strange. With hardest stone they point 
 
 The rapid arrow. Bows four cubits long, 
 
 Form'd of elastic branches from the palm, 
 
 They carry, knotted clubs, and lances, arm'd 
 
 With horns of goats. The Paphlagonians march'd 
 
 From where Carambis, with projected brows, 
 
 O'erlooks the dusky Euxin, wrapt in mists ; 
 
 From where, through flow'rs which paint hisvary'd banks, 
 
 Parthenius flows. The Ligyan bands succeed; 
 
 The Matienians, Mariandenians, nextj 
 
 To them the Syrian multitudes, who range 
 
 Among the cedars on the shaded ridge 
 
 Of Libanus ; who cultivate the glebe, 
 
 Wide- water' d by Orontesj who reside 
 
 Near Daphne's grove, or pluck from loaded palms 
 
 The foodful date, which clusters on the plains 
 
 Of rich Damascus. All, who bear the name 
 
 Of Cappadocians, swell the Syrian host, 
 
 With those who gather from the fragrant shrub 
 
 The aromatic balsam, and extract 
 
 Its milky juice along the lovely side 
 
 Of Jordan, winding, till, immers'd, he sleeps
 
 112 
 
 Beneath a pitchy surface, which obscures 
 Th' Asphaltic pool. The Phrygians then advance; 
 To them their ancient colony are join'd, 
 Armenia's sons. These see the gushing founts 
 Of strong Euphrates cleave the yielding earth, 
 Then, wide in lakes expanding, hide the plain; 
 Whence, with collected waters, fierce and deep, 
 His passage rending through diminish'd rocks, 
 To Babylon he foams. Not so the stream 
 Of soft Araxes to the Caspian glides; 
 He, stealing imperceptibly, sustains 
 The green profusion of Armenia's meads. 
 
 Now, strange to view, in similar attire, 
 But far unlike in manners, to the Greeks, 
 Appear the Lydians. Wantonness and sport 
 Were all their care. Beside Cayster's brink, 
 Or smooth Maeander, winding silent by ; 
 Beside Pactolean waves, among the vines 
 Of Tmolus rising, or the wealthy tide 
 Of golden-sanded Hermus, they allure 
 The sight, enchanted by the graceful dance ; 
 Or with melodious sweetness charm the air,
 
 113 
 
 And melt to softest languishment the soul. 
 
 What to the field of danger could incite 
 
 These tender sons of luxury? The lash 
 
 Of their fell sov'reign drove their shiv'ring backs 
 
 Through hail and tempest, which enrag'd the main, 
 
 And shook beneath their trembling steps the pile, 
 
 Conjoining Asia and the western world. 
 
 To them Mceonia, hot with sulph'rous mines, 
 
 Unites her troops. No tree adorns their fields, 
 
 Unbless'd by verdure. Ashes hide the soil; 
 
 Black are the rocks, and ev'ry hill deform'd 
 
 By conflagration. Helmets press their brows. 
 
 Two darts they brandish. On their woolly vests 
 
 A sword is girt; and hairy hides compose 
 
 Their bucklers round and small. The Mysians left 
 
 Olympus wood-envelop'd ; left the meads 
 
 "VVash'd by Cai'cus, and the baneful tide 
 
 Of Lycus, nurse to serpents. Next advance 
 
 An ancient nation, who in early times, 
 
 By Trojan arms assail'd, their native land 
 
 Esteem'd less dear than freedom, and exchang'd 
 
 Their seat on Strymon, where in Thrace he pours 
 
 A freezing current, for the distant flood
 
 114 
 
 Of fishy Sangar. These, Bithynians nam'd, 
 Their habitation to the sacred feet 
 Of Dindymus extend. Yet there they groan 
 Beneath oppression, and their freedom mourn 
 On Sangar now, as once on Strymon, lost. 
 The ruddy skins of foxes cloth'd their heads. 
 Their shields were fashion'd like the horned moon. 
 A vest embrac'd their bodies; while abroad, 
 Ting'd with unnumber'd hues, a mantle flow'd. 
 But other Thracians, who their former name 
 Retain'd in Asia, fulgent morions wore, 
 With horns of bulls, in imitating brass, 
 Curv'd o'er the crested ridge. Phoenician cloth 
 Their legs infolded. Wont to chase the wolf, 
 A hunter's spear they grasp'd. What nations still 
 On either side of Xerxes, while he pass'd, 
 Their huge array discov'ring, swell his soul 
 With more than mortal pride ? The cluster'd bands 
 Of Moschians and Macronians now appear; 
 The Mosynoecians, who, on berries fed, 
 In wooden tow'rs along the Pontic sands 
 Repose their painted limbs. The mirthful race 
 Of Tibarenians next, whose careless minds
 
 115 
 
 Delight in play and laughter. Then advance, 
 
 In garments buckled on their spacious chests, 
 
 A people, destin'd in eternal verse, 
 
 Ev'n thine, sublime Moeonides, to live. 
 
 These are the Milyans; Solymi their name 
 
 In thy celestial strains; Pisidia's hills 
 
 Their dwelling. Once a formidable train, 
 
 They fac'd the strong Bellerophon in war: 
 
 Now, doom'd a more tremendous foe to meet, 
 
 Themselves unnerv'd by thraldom, they must leave 
 
 Their putrid bodies to the dogs of Greece. 
 
 The Marians follow. Next is Aria's host, 
 
 Drawn from a region horrid all in thorn, 
 
 A dreary waste of sands, which mock the toil 
 
 Of patient culture; save one favour'd spot, 
 
 Which from the wild emerges like an isle, 
 
 Attir'd in verdure, interspers'd with vines 
 
 Of gen'rous nurture, yielding juice which scorns 
 
 The injuries of time: yet nature's hand 
 
 Had sown their rocks with coral j had enrich'd 
 
 Their desert hills with veins of sapphires blue, 
 
 Which on the turban shine. On ev'ry neck 
 
 The coral blushes through the num'rous throng.
 
 The Allarodians, and Sasperian bands, 
 
 Equipp'd like Colchians, wield a falchion small. 
 
 Their heads are guarded by a helm of wood : 
 
 Their lances short ; of hides undress'd their shields. 
 
 The Colchians march'd from Phasis; from the strand 
 
 Where once Medea, fair enchantress, stood, 
 
 And, wond'ring, view'd the first advent'rous keel 
 
 Which cut the Pontic foam. From Argo's side 
 
 The demigods descended. They repair'd 
 
 To her fell sire's inhospitable hall. 
 
 His blooming graces Jason there disclos'd: 
 
 With ev'ry art of eloquence divine 
 
 He claim'd the golden fleece. The virgin heard ; 
 
 She gaz'd in fatal ravishment, and lov'd : 
 
 Then to the hero she resigns her heart. 
 
 Her magic tames the brazen-footed bulls. 
 
 She lulls the sleepless dragon. O'er the main 
 
 He wafts the golden prize, and gen'rous fair. 
 
 The destin'd victim of his treach'rous vows. 
 
 The hostile Colchians then pursu'd their flight 
 
 In vain. By ancient enmity inflam'd, 
 
 Or to recall the long-forgotten wrong, 
 
 Compell'd by Xerxes, now they menace Greece
 
 117 
 
 With desolation. Next in Median garb 
 
 A crowd appear'd, who left the peopled isles 
 
 In Persia's gulph, and round Arabia strewn. 
 
 Some in their native topaz were adorn'd, 
 
 From Ophiodes, from Topazos sprung} 
 
 Some in the shells of tortoises, which brood 
 
 Around Casitis' verge. For battle range 
 
 Those who reside where, all beset with palms, 
 
 Erythras lies entomb'd, a potent king, 
 
 Who nam'd of old the Erythraean main. 
 
 On chariots scyth'd the Libyans sat, array'd 
 
 In skins terrific, brandishing their darts 
 
 Of wood, well-temper' d in the hard'ning flames. 
 
 Not Libya's deserts from tyrannic sway 
 
 Could hide her sons; much less could freedom dwell 
 
 Amid the plenty of Arabia's fields ; 
 
 Where spicy Cassia, where the fragrant reed, 
 
 Where myrrh and hallow'd frankincense, perfume 
 
 The Zephyr's wing. A bow of largest size 
 
 Th' Arabian carries. O'er his lucid vest 
 
 Loose floats a mantle, on his shoulder clasp'd. 
 
 Two chosen myriads on the lofty backs 
 
 Of camels rode, who match'd the fleetest horse.
 
 118 
 
 Such were the numbers which, from Asia led, 
 In base prostration bow'd before the wheels 
 Of Xerxes' chariot. Yet what legions more 
 The Malian sand o'ershadow ? Forward rolls 
 The regal car through nations, who in arms, 
 In order'd ranks, unlike the orient tribes, 
 Upheld the spear and buckler. But, untaught 
 To bend the servile knee, erect they stood} 
 Unless that, mourning o'er the shameful weight 
 Of their new bondage, some their brows depress'd, 
 Their arms with grief distaining. Europe's sons 
 Were these, whom Xerxes by resistless force 
 Had gather'd round his standards. Murm'ring here, 
 The sons of Thrace and Macedonia rang'd ; 
 Here, on his steed, the brave Thessalian frown'd; 
 There pin'd reluctant multitudes of Greece, 
 Redundant plants, in colonies dispers'd 
 Between Byzantium and the Malian bay. 
 
 Through all the nations, who ador'd his pride 
 Or fear'd his pow'r, the monarch now was pass'd; 
 Nor yet among those millions could be found 
 One, who in beauteous features might compare,
 
 Or tow'ring size, with Xerxes. O! possess'd 
 
 Of all but virtue, doom'd to shew how mean, 
 
 How weak, without her is unbounded pow'r! 
 
 The charm of beauty, and the blaze of state, 
 
 How insecure of happiness ! how vain ! 
 
 Thou, who couldst mourn the common lot, by heav'n 
 
 From none withheld, which oft to thousands proves 
 
 Their only refuge from a tyrant's rage; 
 
 Which in consuming sickness, age, or pain, 
 
 Becomes at last a soothing hope to all : 
 
 Thou, who couldst weep that nature's gentle hand 
 
 Should lay her weary'd offspring in the tomb; 
 
 Yet couldst, remorseless, from their peaceful seats 
 
 Lead half the nations, victims to thy pride, 
 
 To famine, plague, and massacre a prey; 
 
 What didst thou merit from the injur'd world? 
 
 What suff'rings, to compensate for the tears 
 
 Of Asia's mothers, for unpeopled realms, 
 
 For all this waste of nature? On his host 
 
 Th' exulting monarch bends his haughty sight, 
 
 To Demaratus then directs his voice 
 
 ' My father, great Darius, to thy mind
 
 120 
 
 Recall, O Spartan. Gracious he receiv'd 
 
 Thy wand'ring steps, expell'd their native home. 
 
 My favour too remember. To beguile 
 
 Thy benefactor, and disfigure truth, 
 
 Would ill become thee. With consid'rate eyes 
 
 Look back on these battalions. Now declare 
 
 If yonder Grecians will oppose their march.' 
 
 To him the exile ' Deem not, mighty lord, 
 I will deceive thy goodness by a tale 
 To give them glory who degraded mine. 
 Nor be the king offended while I use 
 The voice of truth. The Spartans never fly.' 
 
 Contemptuous smil'd the monarch, and resum'd 
 ' Wilt thou, in Lacedaemon once supreme, 
 Encounter twenty Persians ? Yet these Greeks 
 In greater disproportion must engage 
 Our host to-morrow.' Demaratus then 
 
 ' By single combat were the trial vain 
 To shew the pow'r of well-united force, 
 Which oft by military skill surmounts
 
 121 
 
 The weight of numbers. Prince, the difference learn 
 
 Between thy warriors and the sons of Greece. 
 
 The flow'r, the safeguard, of thy num'rous camp 
 
 Are mercenaries. These are canton'd round 
 
 Thy provinces. No fertile field demands 
 
 Their painful hand to break the fallow glebe. 
 
 Them to the noon-day toil no harvest calls; 
 
 Nor on the mountain falls the stubbom oak 
 
 By their laborious axe. Their watchful eyes 
 
 Observe not how the flocks and heifers feed. 
 
 To them, of wealth, of all possessions, void, 
 
 The name of country with an empty sound 
 
 Flies o'er the ear, nor warms their joyless hearts, 
 
 Who share no country. Needy, yet in scorn 
 
 Rejecting labour, wretched by their wants, 
 
 Yet profligate through indolence, with limbs 
 
 Enervated and soft, with minds corrupt, 
 
 From misery, debauchery, and sloth, 
 
 Are these to battle drawn against a foe 
 
 Train'd in gymnastic exercise and arms, 
 
 Inur'd to hardship, and the child of toil, 
 
 Wont through the freezing show'r, the wintry storm, 
 
 O'er his own glebe the tardy ox to goad,
 
 122 
 
 Or in the sun's impetuous heat to glow 
 
 Beneath the burden of his yellow sheaves ; 
 
 Whence on himself, on her whose faithful arms 
 
 Infold him joyful, on a growing race 
 
 Which glad his dwelling, plenty he bestows 
 
 With independence. When to battle call'd, 
 
 For them, his dearest comfort, and his care, 
 
 And for the harvest promis'd to his toil, 
 
 He lifts the shield, nor shuns unequal force. 
 
 Such are the troops of ev'ry state in Greece. 
 
 One only yields a breed more warlike still, 
 
 Of whom selected bands appear in sight, 
 
 All citizens of Sparta. They the glebe 
 
 Have never turn'd, nor bound the golden sheaf. 
 
 They are devoted to severer tasks, 
 
 For war alone, their sole delight and care. 
 
 From infancy to manhood they are train'd 
 
 To winter watches, to inclement skies, 
 
 To plunge through torrents, brave the tusky boar, 
 
 To arms and wounds; a discipline of pain 
 
 So fierce, so constant, that to them a camp, 
 
 With all its hardships, is a seat of rest, 
 
 And war itself remission from their toil.'
 
 123 
 
 ' Thy words are folly,' with redoubled scorn 
 Returns the monarch. ' Doth not freedom dwell 
 Among the Spartans ? Therefore will they shun 
 Superior foes. The unrestrain'd and free 
 Will fly from danger; while my vassals, born 
 To absolute controlment from their king, 
 Know, if th' allotted station they desert, 
 The scourge awaits them, and my heavy wrath.' 
 
 To this the exile ' O conceive not, prince, 
 That Spartans want an object where to fix 
 Their eyes in rev'rence, in obedient dread. 
 To them more awful, than the name of king 
 To Asia's trembling millions, is the law; 
 Whose sacred voice enjoins them to confront 
 Unnumber'd foes; to vanquish, or to die.' 
 
 Here Demaratus pauses. Xerxes halts. 
 Its long defile Thermopylae presents. 
 The satraps leave their cars. On foot they form 
 A splendid orb around their lord. By chance 
 The Spartans then compos'd th' external guard. 
 They, in a martial exercise employ'd,
 
 124 
 
 Heed not the monarch, or his gaudy train; 
 But poise the spear, protended, as in fight; 
 Or lift their adverse shields in single strife; 
 Or, trooping, forward rush, retreat and wheel 
 In ranks unbroken, and with equal feet: 
 While others, calm, beneath their polish'd helms 
 Draw down their hair, whose length of sable curls 
 O'erspread their necks with terror. Xerxes here 
 The exile questions ' What do these intend, 
 Who with assiduous hands adjust their hair?' 
 
 To whom the Spartan ' O imperial lord, 
 Such is their custom, to adorn their heads, 
 When full determin'd to encounter death. 
 Bring down thy nations in resplendent steel; 
 Arm, if thou canst, the gen'ral race of man, 
 All who possess the regions unexplor'd 
 Beyond the Ganges, all whose wand'ring steps 
 Above the Caspian range the Scythian wild, 
 With those who drink the secret fount of Nile; 
 Yet to Laconian bosoms shall dismay 
 Remain a stranger.' Fervour from his lips 
 Thus breaks aloud; when, gushing from his eyes,
 
 4ft* ft* /is I-

 
 125 
 
 Resistless grief o'erflows his cheeks. Aside 
 
 His head he turns. He weeps in copious streams. 
 
 The keen remembrance of his former state, 
 
 His dignity, his greatness, and the sight 
 
 Of those brave ranks, which thus unshaken stood, 
 
 And spread amazement through the world in arms, 
 
 Excite these sorrows. His impassion'd looks 
 
 Review the godlike warriors, who beneath 
 
 His standard once victorious fought; who call'd 
 
 Him once their king, their leader : then again, 
 
 O'ercharg'd with anguish, he bedews with tears 
 
 His rev'rend beard j in agony bemoans 
 
 His faded honours, his illustrious name, 
 
 Forgotten long, his majesty, defil'd 
 
 By exile, by dependence. So obscur'd 
 
 By sordid moss, and ivy's creeping leaf, 
 
 Some princely palace, or stupendous fane, 
 
 Magnificent in ruin, nods; where time 
 
 From under shelving architraves hath mow'd 
 
 The column down, and cleft the pond'rous dome. 
 
 Not unobserv'd by Hyperanthes, mourn'd 
 Th' unhappy Spartan. Kindly in his own 
 He press'd the exile's hand, and thus humane
 
 126 
 
 ' O Demaratus, in this grief I see 
 How just thy praises of Laconia's state. 
 Though cherish'd here with universal love, 
 Thou still deplor'st thy absence from her face, 
 Howe'er averse to thine. But swift relief 
 From indignation borrow. Call to mind 
 Thy injuries. Th' auspicious fortune bless, 
 Which led thee far from calumny and fraud, 
 To peace, to honour, in the Persian court.' 
 
 As Demaratus, with a grateful mind, 
 His answer was preparing, Persia's king 
 Stern interrupted ' Soon as morning shines, 
 Do you, Tigranes and Phraortes, head 
 The Medes and Cissians. Bring these Grecians bound. 
 
 This said, the monarch to his camp returns. 
 Th' attendant princes reascend their cars, 
 Save Hyperanthes, by the Carian queen 
 Detain'd, who thus began ' Impartial, brave, 
 Nurs'd in a court, yet virtuous, let my heart 
 To thee its feelings undisguis'd reveal. 
 Thou hear'st thy royal brother. He demands
 
 127 
 
 These Grecians bound. Why stops his mandate there? 
 
 Why not command the mountains to remove, 
 
 Or sink to level plains. Yon Spartans view, 
 
 Their weighty arms, their countenance. To die 
 
 My gratitude instructs me in the cause 
 
 Of our imperial master. To succeed 
 
 Is not within the shadow of my hopes 
 
 At this dire pass. What evil genius sways? 
 
 Tigranes, false Argestes, and the rest, 
 
 In name a council, ceaseless have oppos'd 
 
 My dictates, oft repeated in despite 
 
 Of purpled flatt'rers, to embark a force, 
 
 Which, pouring on Laconia, might confine 
 
 These sons of valour to their own defence. 
 
 Vain are my words. The royal ear admits 
 
 Their sound alone ; while adulation's notes 
 
 In Siren sweetness penetrate his heart, 
 
 There lodge ensnaring mischief.' In a sigh 
 
 To her the prince O faithful to thy lord, 
 
 Discreet adviser, and in action firm, 
 
 What can I answer? My afflicted soul 
 
 Must seek its refuge in a feeble hope. 
 
 Thou mayst be partial to thy Doric race,
 
 128 
 
 Mayst magnify our danger. Let me hope, 
 Whate'er the danger; if extreme, believe 
 That Hyperanthes for his prince can bleed 
 Not with less zeal than Spartans for their laws.' 
 
 They separate. To Xerxes he repairs. 
 The queen, surrounded by the Carian guard, 
 Stays, and retraces with sagacious ken 
 The destin'd field of war, the vary'd space, 
 Its depth, its confines, both of hill and sea. 
 Meantime a scene more splendid hath allur'd 
 Her son's attention. His transported sight, 
 With ecstasy like worship, long pursues 
 The pomp of Xerxes in retreat, the throne, 
 Which shew'd their idol to the nations round, 
 The bounding steeds, caparison'd in gold, 
 The plumes, the chariots, standards. He excites 
 Her care, express'd in these pathetic strains 
 
 ' Look on the king with gratitude. His sire 
 Protected thine. Himself upholds our state. 
 By loyalty inflexible repay 
 The obligation. To immortal pow'rs
 
 12Q 
 
 The adoration of thy soul confine; 
 
 And look undazzled on the pomp of man, 
 
 Most weak when highest. Then the jealous gods 
 
 Watch to supplant him. They his paths, his courts, 
 
 His chambers, nil with flatt'ry's pois'nous swarms, 
 
 Whose honey'd bane, by kingly pride devour'd, 
 
 Consumes the health of kingdoms." Here the boy, 
 
 By an attention which surpass'd his years, 
 
 Unlocks her inmost bosom. ' Thrice accurs'd 
 
 Be those,' th' indignant heroine pursues, 
 
 ' Those, who have tempted their imperial lord 
 
 To that prepost'rous arrogance, which cast 
 
 Chains in the deep to manacle the waves, 
 
 Chastis'd with stripes in heav'n's offended sight 
 
 The Hellespont, and fondly now demands 
 
 The Spartans bound. O child, my soul's delight, 
 
 Train'd by my care to equitable sway, 
 
 And imitation of the gods, by deeds 
 
 To merit their protection, heed my voice. 
 
 They, who alone can tame or swell the floods, 
 
 Compose the winds, or guide their strong career, 
 
 O'erwhelming human greatness, will confound 
 
 Such vanity in mortals. On our fleet
 
 130 
 
 Their indignation hath already fall'n. 
 Perhaps our boasted army is prepar'd 
 A prey for death, to vindicate their pow'r.' 
 
 This said, a curious search in ev'ry part 
 Her eye renews. Adjoining to the straits, 
 Fresh bloom'd a thicket of entwining shrubs, 
 A seeming fence to some sequester'd ground, 
 By travellers unbeaten. Swift her guards 
 Address'd their spears to part the pliant boughs. 
 Held back, they yield a passage to the queen 
 And princely boy. Delicious to their sight, 
 Soft dales, meand'ring, shew their flow'ry laps 
 Among rude piles of nature. In their sides 
 Of rock are mansions hewn ; nor loaden trees 
 Of cluster'd fruit are wanting: but no sound, 
 Except of brooks in murmur, and the song 
 Of winged warblers, meets the list'ning ear. 
 No grazing herd, no flock, nor human form, 
 Is seen; no careful husband at his toil; 
 Beside her threshold no industrious wife, 
 No playful child. Instructive to her son 
 The princess then ' Already these abodes
 
 131 
 
 Are desolate. Once happy in their homes, 
 Th' inhabitants forsake them. Pleasing scene 
 Of nature's bounty, soon will savage Mars 
 Deform the lovely ringlets of thy shrubs, 
 And coarsely pluck thy violated fruits, 
 Unripe j will deafen, with his clangour fell, 
 Thy tuneful choirs. I mourn thy destin'd spoil, 
 Yet come thy first despoiler. Captains, plant, 
 Ere morning breaks, my secret standard here. 
 Come, boy, away. Thy safety will I trust 
 To Demaratusj while thy mother tries, 
 With these her martial followers, what sparks, 
 Left by our Doric fathers, yet inflame 
 Their sons and daughters in a stern debate 
 With other Dorians, who have never breath'd 
 The soft'ning gales of Asia, never bow'd 
 In forc'd allegiance to Barbarian thrones. 
 Thou heed my order. Those ingenuous looks 
 Of discontent suppress. For thee this fight 
 Were too severe a lesson. Thou might'st bleed 
 Among the thousands fated to expire 
 By Sparta's lance. Let Artemisia die, 
 Ye all disposing rulers, but protect
 
 132 
 
 Her son.' She ceas'd. The lioness, who reigns 
 Queen of the forest, terrible in strength, 
 And prone to fury, thus, by nature taught, 
 Melts o'er her young in blandishment and love. 
 
 Now slowly tow'rds the Persian camp her steps 
 In silence she directed} when a voice, 
 Sent from a rock, accessible which seem'd 
 To none but feather'd passengers of air, 
 By this reproof detain'd her ' Caria's queen 
 Art thou, to Greece by Doric blood ally'd ? 
 Com'st thou to lay her fruitful meadows waste, 
 Thou homager of tyrants?' Upward gaz'd 
 Th' astonish'd princess. Lo! a female shape, 
 Tall and majestic, from th' impendent ridge 
 Look'd awful down. A holy fillet bound 
 Her graceful hair, loose flowing. Seldom wept 
 Great Artemisia. Now a springing tear 
 Between her eyelids gleam'd. . ' Too true,' she sigh'd. 
 ' A homager of tyrants! Voice austere, 
 And presence half-divine !' Again the voice 
 
 ' O Artemisia, hide thy Doric sword.
 
 133 
 
 Let no Barbarian tyrant through thy might, 
 Thy counsels, valiant as thou art and wise, 
 Consume the holy fanes, deface the tombs, 
 Subvert the laws, of Greece, her sons inthrall.' 
 
 The queen made no reply. Her breastplate heav'd. 
 The tremulous attire of cov'ring mail 
 Confess'd her struggle. She at length exclaim'd 
 
 ' Olympian thund'rer, from thy neighb'ring hill, 
 Of sacred oaths remind me!' Then aside 
 She turns, to shun that majesty of form, 
 In solemn sounds upbraiding. Torn her thoughts 
 She feels. A painful conflict she endures, 
 With recollection of her Doric racej 
 Till gratitude., reviving, arms her breast. 
 Her royal benefactor she recalls, 
 Back to his sight precipitates her steps.
 
 LEONIDAS. 
 
 BOOK V.
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Lconidas, rising by break of day, hears the intelligence which Agis and 
 Meliboeus bring from the upper pass; then commands a body of Ar- 
 cadians, with the Plataeans and Thespians, to be drawn out for battl 
 under the conduct of Demophilus in that part of Thermopylae which 
 lies close to the Phocian wall, from whence he harangues them. The 
 enemy approaches. Diomedon kills Tigranes in single combat. Both 
 armies join battle. Dithyrambus kills Phraortes. The Persians, en- 
 tiiely defeated, are pursued by Demophilus to the extremity of the 
 pass. The Arcadians, inconsiderately advancing beyond it, fall into 
 an ambush, which Artemisia had laid to cover the retreat of the Per- 
 sians. She kills Clonius, but is herself repulsed by Demophilus. 
 Diomedon and Dithyrambus give chase to her broken forces over the 
 plains in the sight of Persia's camp, whence she receives no assistance. 
 She rallies a small body, and, facing the enemy, disables Dithyram- 
 bus by a blow on his helmet. This puts the Grecians into some con- 
 fusion, and gives her an opportunity of preserving the remainder of 
 her Carians by a timely retreat. She gains the camp, accuses Ar- 
 gestes of treachery; but, pacified by Demaratus, is accompanied by 
 him with a thousand horse to collect the dead bodies of her soldiers 
 for sepulture.
 
 L E O N I D A S. 
 
 BOOK V. 
 
 AURORA dawn'd. Leonidas arose. 
 
 With Melibreus Agis, now return'd, 
 
 Address'd the king ' Along the mountain's side 
 
 We bent our journey. On our way a voice, 
 
 Loud from a crag, on Meliboeus call'd. 
 
 He look'd and answer'd. Mycon, ancient friend ! 
 
 Far hast thou driv'n thy bearded train to dayj 
 
 But fortunate thy presence. None like thee, 
 
 Inhabitant of Oeta from thy birth, 
 
 Can furnish that intelligence which Greece 
 
 Wants for her safety. Mycon shew'd a track. 
 
 We mounted high. The summit, where we stopt, 
 
 Gave to the sight a prospect wide o'er hills, 
 
 O'er dales, and forests, rocks, and dashing floods 
 
 In cataracts. The object of our search
 
 138 
 
 Beneath us lay, the secret pass to Greece, 
 
 Where not five warriors in a rank can tread. 
 
 We thence descended to the Phocian camp, 
 
 Beset with scatter'd oaks, which rose and spread 
 
 In height and shadej on whose sustaining boughs 
 
 Were hung, in snowy folds, a thousand tents, 
 
 Containing each a Fhocian, heavy-mail'd, 
 
 With two light-weapon'd menials. Northward ends 
 
 The vale, contracted to that narrow strait 
 
 Which first we saw with My con.' ' Prudent care 
 
 Like yours alleviates mine,' well-pleas'd, the king 
 
 Reply'd. ' Now, Agis, from Arcadia's bands 
 
 Select a thousand spears. To them unite 
 
 The Thespians and Plataeans. Draw their lines 
 
 Beneath the wall which fortifies the pass. 
 
 There, close-embody'd, will their might repulse 
 
 The num'rous foe Demophilus salute. 
 
 Approv'd in martial service, him I name 
 
 The chief supreme.' Obedient to his will, 
 
 Th' appointed warriors, issuing from the tents, 
 
 Fill their deep files, and watch the high command. 
 
 So round their monarch, in his stormy hall, 
 
 The winds assemble. From his dusky throne
 
 13Q 
 
 His dreadful mandates yolus proclaims 
 To swell the main, or heav'n with clouds deform, 
 Or bend the forest from the mountain's brow. 
 Laconia's leader, from the rampart's height, 
 To battle thus the list'ning host inflames 
 
 * This day, O Grecians, countrymen, and friends, 
 Your wives, your offspring, your paternal seats, 
 Your parents, country, liberty, and laws, 
 Demand your swords. You, gen'rous, active, brave, 
 Vers'd in the various discipline of Mars, 
 Are now to grapple with ignoble foes, 
 In war unskilful, nature's basest dross, 
 And thence a monarch's mercenary slaves. 
 Relax'd their limbs, their spirits are deprav'd 
 By eastern sloth and pleasures. Hire their cause, 
 Their only fruit of victory is spoil. 
 They know not freedom, nor its lib'ral cares. 
 Such is the flow'r of Asia's host. The rest, 
 Who fill her boasted numbers, are a crowd 
 Forc'd from their homes ; a populace, in peace 
 By jealous tyranny disarm'd, in war 
 Their tyrant's victims. Taught in passive grief
 
 140 
 
 To bear the rapine, cruelty, and spurns, 
 
 Of Xerxes' mercenary band, they pine 
 
 In servitude to slaves. With terror sounds 
 
 The trumpet's clangour in their trembling ears. 
 
 Unwonted loads, the buckler and the lance, 
 
 Their hands sustain, encumber'd, and present 
 
 The mockery of war . . But ev'ry eye 
 
 Shoots forth impatient flames. Your gallant breasts 
 
 Too long their swelling spirit have confin'd. 
 
 Go then, ye sons of liberty ; go, sweep 
 
 These bondmen from the field. Resistless, rend 
 
 The glitt'ring standard from their servile grasp. 
 
 Hurl to the ground their ignominious heads, 
 
 The warrior's helm profaning. Think the shades 
 
 Of your forefathers lift their sacred brows, 
 
 Here to enjoy the glory of their sons.' 
 
 He spake. Loud paeans issue from the Greeks. 
 In fierce reply, Barbarian shouts ascend 
 From hostile nations, thronging down the pass. 
 Such is the roar of ^Etna, when his mouth 
 Displodes combustion from his sulph'rous depths, 
 To blast the smiles of nature. Dauntless stood,
 
 141 
 
 In deep array, before the Phocian wall 
 
 The phalanx, wedg'd with implicated shields, 
 
 And spears protended; like the graceful range 
 
 Of arduous elms, whose interwoven boughs 
 
 Before some rural palace wide expand 
 
 Their venerable umbrage, to retard 
 
 The North's impetuous wing. As o'er the main, 
 
 In lucid rows, the rising waves reflect 
 
 The sun's effulgence; so the Grecian helms 
 
 Return'd his light, which o'er their convex pour'd 
 
 A splendour, scatter'd through the dancing plumes. 
 
 Down rush the foes. Exulting, in their van 
 Their haughty leader shakes his threat'ning lance, 
 Provoking battle. Instant from his rank 
 Diomedon bursts, furious. On he strides; 
 Confronts Tigranes, whom he thus defies 
 
 ' Now art thou met, Barbarian. Wouldst thou prove 
 Thy actions equal to thy vaunts, command 
 Thy troops to halt, while thou and I engage.' 
 
 Tigranes, turning to the Persians, spake
 
 142 
 
 ' My friends and soldiers, check your martial haste, 
 While my strong lance that Grecian's pride confounds.' 
 
 He ceas'd. In dreadful opposition soon 
 Each combatant advanc'd. Their sinewy hands 
 Grip'd fast their spears, high-brandish'd. Thrice they 
 
 drove, 
 
 With well directed force, the pointed steel 
 At cither's throat, and thrice their wary shields 
 Repel' d the menac'd wound. The Asian chief 
 At length, with pow'rs collected for the stroke, 
 His weapon rivets in the Grecian targe. 
 Aside Diomedon inclines, and shuns 
 Approaching fate; then all his martial skill 
 Undaunted summons. His forsaken spear 
 Beside him cast, his falchion he unsheaths. 
 The blade descending on Tigranes' arm, 
 That instant struggling to redeem his lance, 
 The nervous hand dissevers. Pale affright 
 Unmans the Persian; while his active foe 
 Full on his neck discharg'd the rapid sword, 
 Which open'd wide the purple gates of death. 
 Low sinks Tigranes in eternal shade.
 
 143 
 
 His prostrate limbs the conqueror bestrides; 
 
 Then, in a tuft of blood-distilling hair 
 
 His hand entwining, from the mangled trunk 
 
 The head disjoins, and whirls with matchless strength 
 
 Among the adverse legions. All in dread 
 
 Recoil'd, where'er the ghastly visage flew 
 
 In sanguine circles, and pursu'd its track 
 
 Of horror through the air. Not more amaz'd, 
 
 A barb'rous nation, whom the cheerful dawn 
 
 Of science ne'er illumin'd, view on high 
 
 A meteor, waving its portentous fires; 
 
 Where oft, as superstition vainly dreams, 
 
 Some demon sits amid the baneful blaze, 
 
 Dispersing plague and desolation round. 
 
 Awhile the stern Diomedon remain'd 
 
 Triumphant o'er the dire dismay, which froze 
 
 The heart of Persia; then, with haughty pace, 
 
 In sullen joy, among his gladsome friends 
 
 Resum'd his station. Still the hostile throng, 
 
 In consternation motionless, suspend 
 
 The charge. Their drooping hearts Phraortes warms 
 
 ' Heav'n! can one leader's fate appal this host,
 
 144 
 
 Which counts a train of princes for its chiefs? 
 Behold Phraortes. From Niphates' ridge 
 I draw my subject files. My hardy toil 
 Through pathless woods and deserts hath explor'd 
 The tiger's cavern. This unconquer'd hand 
 Hath from the lion rent his shaggy hide. 
 So through this field of slaughter will I chase 
 Yon vaunting Greek.' His ardent words revive 
 Declining valour in the van. His lance 
 Then in the rear he brandishes. The crowd, 
 Before his threat'ning ire affrighted, roll 
 Their numbers headlong on the Grecian steel. 
 Thus, with his trident, ocean's angry god 
 From their vast bottom turns the mighty mass 
 Of waters upward, and o'erwhelms the beach. 
 
 Tremendous frown'd the fierce Plataean chief, 
 Full in the battle's front. His ample shield, 
 Like a strong bulwark, prominent he rais'd 
 Before the line. There thunder'd all the storm 
 Of darts and arrows. His undaunted train 
 In emulating ardour charg'd the foe. 
 Where'er they turn'd the formidable spears,
 
 145 
 
 Which drench'd the glebe of Marathon in blood, 
 Barbarian dead lay heap'd. Diomedon 
 Led on the slaughter. From his nodding crest 
 The sable plumes shook terror. Asia's host 
 Shrunk back, as blasted by the piercing beams 
 Of that unconquerable sword which fell 
 With lightning's swiftness on dissever'd helms, 
 And, menacing Tigranes' doom to all, 
 Their multitude dispers'd. The furious chief, 
 Encompass'd round by carnage, and besmear'd 
 With sanguine drops, inflames his warlike friends 
 
 ' O Dithyrambus, let thy deeds this day 
 Surmount their wonted lustre. Thou in arms, 
 Demophilus, worn grey, thy youth recall. 
 Behold, these slaves without resistance bleed. 
 Advance, my hoary friend. Propitious fame 
 Smiles on thy years. She grants thy aged hand 
 To pluck fresh laurels for thy honour'd brow.' 
 
 As, when endu'd with Promethean heat, 
 The molten clay respir'd, a sudden warmth 
 Glows in the venerable Thespian's veins;
 
 146 
 
 In ev'ry sinew new-born vigour swells. 
 His falchion, thund'ring on Cherasmes' helm, 
 The forehead cleaves. Ecbatana to war 
 Sent forth Cherasmes. From her potent gates 
 He, proud in hope, her swarming numbers led. 
 Him Ariazus and Peucestes join'd, 
 His martial brothers. They attend his fate, 
 By Dithyrambus pierc'd. Their hoary sire 
 Shall o'er his solitary palace roam; 
 Lamenting loud his childless years, shall curse 
 Ambition's fury, and the lust of war; 
 Then, pining, bow in anguish to the grave. 
 
 Next, by the fierce Plataean's fatal sword, 
 Expir'd Damates, once the host and friend 
 Of fall'n Tigranes. By his side to fight, 
 He left his native bands. Of Syrian birth, 
 In Daphne he resided, near the grove 
 Whose hospitable laurels, in their shade, 
 Conceal'd the virgin fugitive, averse 
 To young Apollo. Hither she retir'd, 
 Far from her parent stream. Here fables feign, 
 Herself a laurel, chang'd her golden hair
 
 147 
 
 To verdant leaves in this retreat, the grove 
 Of Daphne call'd, the seat of rural bliss, 
 Fann'd by the breath of Zephyrs, and with rills 
 From bubbling founts irriguous, Syria's boast, 
 The happy rival of Thessalia's vale 5 
 Now hid for ever from Damates' eyes. 
 
 Demophilus, wise leader, soon improves 
 Advantage. All the vet'rans of his troop, 
 In age his equals, to condense the files, 
 To rivet close their bucklers, he commands. 
 As some broad vessel, heavy in her strength, 
 But well compacted, when a fav'ring gale 
 Invites the skilful master to expand 
 The sails at large, her slow but steady course 
 Impels through myriads of dividing waves ; 
 So, unresisted, through Barbarian throngs 
 The hoary phalanx pass'd. Arcadia's sons 
 Pursu'd more swift. Gigantic Clonius press'd 
 The yielding Persians, who before him sunk, 
 Crush'd, like vile stubble underneath the steps 
 Of some glad peasant, visiting his fields 
 Of new-shorn harvest. On the gen'ral rout
 
 148 
 
 Phraortes look'd intrepid still. He sprang 
 
 O'er hills of carnage to confront the foe. 
 
 His own inglorious friends he thus reproach'd 
 
 * Fly then, ye cowards, and desert your chief. 
 Yet, single, here my target shall oppose 
 The shock of thousands.' Raging, he impels 
 His deathful point through Aristander's breast. 
 Him Dithyrambus lov'd. A sacred bard, 
 Rever'd for justice, for his verse renown'd, 
 He sung the deeds of heroes; those who fell, 
 Or those who conquer'd, in their country's cause; 
 Th' enraptur'd soul inspiring with the love 
 Of glory, earn'd by virtue. His high strain 
 The Muses favour'd from their neighb'ring bow'rs, 
 And bless'd with heav'nly melody his lyre. 
 No more from Thespia shall his feet ascend 
 The shady steep of Helicon; no more 
 The stream divine of Aganippe's fount 
 Bedew his lip, harmonious; nor his hands, 
 Which, dying, grasp the unforsaken lance, 
 And prostrate buckler, ever more accord 
 His lofty numbers to the sounding shell.
 
 Lo ! Dithyrambus weeps ! Amid the rage 
 
 Of war and conquest, swiftly-gushing tears 
 
 Find one sad moment's interval to fall 
 
 On his pale friend. But soon the victor proves 
 
 His stern revenge. Through shield and corselet plung'd, 
 
 His forceful blade divides the Persian's chestj 
 
 Whence issue streams of royal blood, deriv'd 
 
 From ancestors who sway'd in Ninus old 
 
 Th' Assyrian sceptre. He to Xerxes' throne 
 
 A tributary satrap, rul'd the vales 
 
 Where Tigris swift, between the parted hills 
 
 Of tall Niphates, drew his foamy tide, 
 
 Impregnating the meads. Phraortes sinks, 
 
 Not instantly expiring. Still his eyes 
 
 Flash indignation, while the Persians fly. 
 
 Beyond the Malian entrance of the straits 
 Th' Arcadians rush ; when, unperceiv'd till felt, 
 Spring, from concealment in a thicket deep, 
 New swarms of warriors, clust'ring on the flank 
 Of these unwary Grecians. Tow'rds the bay 
 They shrink. They totter on the fearful edge, 
 Which overhangs a precipice. Surpris'd.
 
 150 
 
 The strength of Clonius fails. His giant bulk 
 
 Beneath the chieftain of th' assailing band 
 
 Falls prostrate. Thespians and Plataeans wave 
 
 Auxiliar ensigns. They encounter foes 
 
 Resembling Greeks in discipline and arms. 
 
 Dire is the shock. What less than Caria's queen, 
 
 In their career of victory, could check 
 
 Such warriors? Fierce she struggles} while the rout 
 
 Of Medes and Cissians carry to the camp 
 
 Contagious terror; thence no succour flows. 
 
 Demophilus stands firm; the Carian band 
 
 At length recoil before him. Keen pursuit 
 
 He leaves to others, like th' almighty sire, 
 
 Who sits unshaken on his throne, while floods, 
 
 His instruments of wrath, o'erwhelm the earth, 
 
 And whirlwinds level on her hills the growth 
 
 Of proudest cedars. Through the yielding crowd, 
 
 Plataea's chief and Dithyrambus range, 
 
 Triumphant, side by side. Thus o'er the field 
 
 Where bright Alpheus heard the rattling car, 
 
 And concave hoof along his echoing banks, 
 
 Two gen'rous coursers, link'd in mutual reins, 
 
 In speed, in ardour equal, beat the dust
 
 151 
 
 To reach the glories of Olympia's goal. 
 
 Th' intrepid heroes on the plain advance, 
 
 They press the Carian rear. Not long the queen 
 
 Endures that shame. Her people's dying groans 
 
 Transpierce her bosom. On their bleeding limbs 
 
 She looks maternal, feels maternal pangs. 
 
 A troop she rallies. Goddess-like, she turns, 
 
 Not less than Pallas with her Gorgon shield. 
 
 Whole ranks she covers, like th' imperial bird, 
 
 Extending o'er a nest of callow young 
 
 Her pinion broad, and pointing fierce her beak, 
 
 Her claws outstretch'd. The Thespian's ardent hand, 
 
 From common lives refraining, hastes to snatch 
 
 More splendid laurels from that nobler head. 
 
 His pond'rous falchion, swift descending, bears 
 
 Her buckler down; thence glancing, cuts the thong 
 
 Which holds her headpiece fast. That golden fence 
 
 Drops down. Thick tresses, unconfin'd, disclose 
 
 A female warrior; one, whose summer pride 
 
 Of fleeting beauty had begun to fade, 
 
 Yet by th' heroic character supply'd, 
 
 Which grew more awful, as the touch of time 
 
 Remov'd the soft'ning graces. Back he steps,
 
 152 
 
 Unman'd by wonder. With indignant eyes, 
 
 Fire-darting, she advances. Both her hands 
 
 Full on his crest discharge the furious blade. 
 
 The forceful blow compels him to recede 
 
 Yet further back, un wounded, though confus'd. 
 
 His soldiers flock around him. From a scene 
 
 Of blood more distant speeds Platsea's chief. 
 
 The fair occasion of suspended fight 
 
 She seizes, bright in glory wheels away, 
 
 And saves her Carian remnant. While his friend 
 
 In fervent sounds Diomedon bespake 
 
 ' If thou art slain, I curse this glorious day. 
 Be all thy trophies, be my own, accurs'd.' 
 
 The youth, recover'd, answers in a smile 
 ' I am unhurt. The weighty blow proclaim'd 
 The queen of Caria, or Bellona's arm. 
 Our longer stay Demophilus may blame. 
 Let us prevent his call.' This said, their steps 
 They turn, both striding through empurpled heaps 
 Of arms, and mangled slain, themselves with gore 
 Distain'd ; like two grim tigers, who have forc'd 
 A nightly mansion, on the desert rais'd
 

 
 __ _ ______ QSa-te./ 
 
 /// /f/t/t/. n // rs/ift.)//!/ //w// '/ r/tfft/r-f/ ft'f>etttr/,j 
 
 >a 

 
 153 
 
 By some lone-wand'ring traveller, then, dy'd 
 In human crimson, through the forest deep 
 Back to their covert's dreary gloom retire. 
 
 Stern Artemisia, sweeping o'er the field, 
 Bursts into Asia's camp. A furious look 
 She casts around. Abrocomes remote 
 With Hyperanthes from the king were sent. 
 She sees Argestes in that quarter chief, 
 Who from battalion^ numberless had spar'd 
 Not one to succour, but his malice gorg'd 
 With her distress. Her anger now augments. 
 Revenge frowns gloomy on her darken'd brow. 
 He cautious moves to Xerxes, where he sat 
 High on his car. She follows. Lost her helm ; 
 Resign'd to sportive winds her cluster'd locks, 
 Wild, but majestic, like the waving boughs 
 Of some proud elm, the glory of the grove, 
 And full in foliage. Her emblazon'd shield 
 With gore is tarnish'd. Pale around are seen, 
 All faint, all ghastly from repeated wounds, 
 Hfer bleeding soldiers. Brandishing her sword, 
 To them she points, to Xerxes thus she speaks
 
 154 
 
 ' Behold these mangled Carians, who have spent 
 Their vital current in the king's defence, 
 Ev'n in his sight} while Medes and Cissians fled, 
 By these protected, whom Argestes saw 
 Pursu'd by slaughter to thy very camp, 
 Yet left unhelp'd to perish. Ruling sire, 
 Let Horomazes be thy name, or Jove, 
 To thee appealing, of the king I claim 
 A day for justice. Monarch, to my arm 
 Give him a prey. Let Artemisia's truth 
 Chastise his treason/ With an eye submiss, 
 A mien obsequious, and a soothing tone, 
 To cheat the king, to moderate her ire, 
 Argestes utters these fallacious words 
 
 ' May Horomazes leave the fiend at large 
 To blast my earthly happiness, confine 
 Amid the horrors of his own abode 
 My ghost hereafter, if the sacred charge 
 Of Xerxes' person was not my restraint, 
 My sole restraint! To him our all is due; 
 Our all how trifling, with his safety weigh'd ! 
 His preservation I prefer to fame,
 
 155 
 
 And bright occasion for immortal deeds 
 Forego in duty. Else my helpful sword, 
 Fair heroine of Asia, hadst thou seen 
 Among the foremost blazing. Lo! the king 
 A royal present will on thee bestow, 
 Perfumes and precious unguents on the dead, 
 A golden wreath to each survivor brave.' 
 
 Aw'd by her spirit, by the flatt'rer's spell 
 Deluded, languid through dismay and shame 
 At his defeat, the monarch for a time 
 Sat mute, at length unlock'd his falt'ring lips 
 
 ' Thou hear'st, great princess. Rest content. His 
 
 words 
 
 I ratify. Yet, farther, I proclaim 
 Thee of my train first counsellor and chief.' 
 
 ' O eagle-ey'd discernment in the king ! 
 O wisdom equal to his boundless power !' 
 The purpled sycophant exclaims. ' Thou seest 
 Her matchless talents. Wanting her, thy fleet, 
 The floating bulwark of our hopes, laments,
 
 156 
 
 Foil'd in her absence, in her conduct safe. 
 Thy penetrating sight directs the field ; 
 There let her worth be hazarded no more.' 
 
 ' Thy words are wise,' the blinded prince rejoins. 
 ' Return, brave Carian, to thy naval charge.' 
 
 Thus, to remove her from the royal ear, 
 Malicious guile prevails. Redoubled rage 
 Swells in her bosom. Demaratus sees, 
 And calms the storm, by rend'ring up his charge 
 To her maternal hand. Her son, belov'd, 
 Dispels the furies. Then the Spartan thus 
 
 ' O Artemisia, of the king's command 
 Be thou observant. To thy slaughter'd friends 
 Immediate care, far other than revenge, 
 Is due. The ravens gather. From his nest 
 Among those clifts, the eagle's rapid flight 
 Denotes his scent of carnage. Thou, a Greek, 
 Well know'st the duty sacred to the dead. 
 Depart; thy guide is piety. Collect, 
 For honourable sepulchers prepare,
 
 157 
 
 Those bodies, mark'd with honourable wounds. 
 I will assist thee. Xerxes will intrust 
 To my command a chosen guard of horse.' 
 
 As oft, when storms in summer have o'ercast 
 The night with double darkness, only pierc'd 
 By heav'n's blue fire, while thunder shakes the pole, 
 The orient sun, diffusing genial warmth, 
 Refines the troubled air 5 the blast is mute ; 
 Death-pointed flames disperse; and placid Jove 
 Looks down in smiles : so prudence from the lips 
 Of Demaratus, by his tone, his mien, 
 His aspect strength'ning smooth persuasion's flow, 
 Compos'd her spirit. She with him departs. 
 The king assigns a thousand horse to guard 
 Th' illustrious exile and heroic dame.
 
 LEONIDAS. 
 
 BOOK VI.
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The Grecian commanders, after the pu:suit, retire for refreshment to a 
 cave in the side of mount Oeta. Demophilus returns to the camp ; 
 Diomedon remains in the cave ; while Dithyrambus, discovering a 
 passage through it, ascends to the temple of the Muses. After a long 
 discourse with Melissa, the daughter of Oileus, she intrusts him with 
 a solemn message to Leonidas. Dithyrambus deputes this charge to 
 Megistias, the augur. Leon-das, recalling the forces first engaged, 
 sends down a fresh body. Diomedon and Dithyrambus are permitted, 
 on their own request, to continue in the field with the Plataeans. By 
 the advice of Diomedon, the Grecians advance to the broadest part of 
 Thermopylae, where they form a line of twenty in depth, consisting 
 of the Plataeans, Mantineans, Tegaeans, Thebans, Corinthians, Phlia- 
 sians, and Mycenseans. The Spartans compose a second line in a 
 narrower part. Behind them are placed the light armed troops under 
 Alpheus, and further back a phalanx of Locrians under Medon, the 
 son of Oi'leus. Dicneces commands the whole.
 
 L E O N I D A S. 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 
 Now Dithyrambus and Plataea's chief, 
 Their former post attaining, had rejoin'd 
 Demophilus. Recumbent on his shield, 
 Phraortes, gasping there, attracts their sight. 
 To him in pity Thespia's gallant youth, 
 Approaching, thus his gen'rous soul express'd 
 
 ' Liv'st thou, brave Persian ? By propitious Jove, 
 From whom the pleasing stream of mercy flows 
 Through mortal bosoms, less my soul rejoic'd, 
 When fortune bless'd with victory my arm, 
 Than now to raise thee from this field of death.' 
 
 His languid eyes the dying prince unclos'd, 
 Then with expiring voice * Vain man, forbear 
 M
 
 162 
 
 To proffer me what soon thyself must crave. 
 The day is quite extinguish'd in these orbs. 
 One moment fate allows me to disdain 
 Thy mercy, Grecian, Now I yield to death." 
 
 This effort made, the haughty spirit fled. 
 So shoots a meteor's transitory gleam 
 Through nitrous folds of black nocturnal clouds, 
 Then dissipates for ever. O'er the corse 
 His rev'rend face Demophilus inclin'd, 
 Pois'd on his lance, and thus address'd the slain 
 
 ' Alas ! how glorious were that bleeding breast, 
 Had justice brac'd the buckler on thy arm, 
 And to preserve a people bade thee die! 
 Who now shall mourn thee? Thy ungrateful king 
 Will soon forget thy worth. Thy native land 
 May raise an empty monument, but feel 
 No public sorrow. Thy recorded name 
 Shall wake among thy countrymen no sighs 
 For their lost hero. What to them avail'd 
 Thy might, thy dauntless spirit ? Not to guard 
 Their wives, their offspring, from th' oppressor's hand,
 
 163 
 
 But to extend oppression, didst thou fall, 
 Perhaps with inborn virtues in thy soul, 
 Which, but thy froward destiny forbade, 
 By freedom cherish'd, might have bless'd mankind. 
 All-bounteous nature, thy impartial laws 
 To no selected race of men confine 
 The sense of glory, fortitude, and all 
 The nobler passions, which exalt the mind, 
 And render life illustrious. These thou plant'st 
 In ev'ry soil. But freedom, like the sun, 
 Must warm the gen'rous seeds. By her alone 
 They bloom, they flourish; while oppression blast* 
 The tender virtues: hence a spurious growth, 
 False honour, savage valour, taint the soul, 
 And wild ambition : hence rapacious pow'r 
 The ravag'd earth unpeoples, and the brave, 
 A feast for dogs, th' ensanguin'd field bestrew.' 
 
 He said. Around the venerable man 
 The warriors throng'd, attentive. Conquest hush'd 
 Its joyful transports. O'er the horrid field, 
 Rude scene so late of tumult, all was calm. 
 So, when the song of Thracian Orpheus drew
 
 164 
 
 To Hebrus' margin, from their dreary seats, 
 The savage breed which Haemus, wrapt in clouds, 
 Pangasus cold, and Rhodopean snows, 
 In blood and discord nurs'd, the soothing strain 
 Flow'd with enchantment through the ravish'd ear, 
 Their fierceness melted, and, amaz'd, they learn'd 
 The sacred laws of justice, which the bard 
 Mix'd with the music of his heav'nly string. 
 
 Meantime th' Arcadians, with inverted arms 
 And banners, sad and solemn, on their shields 
 The giant limbs of Clonius bore along, 
 To spread a gen'ral wo. The noble corse, 
 Dire spectacle of carnage, passing by 
 To those last honours which the dead partake, 
 Struck Dithyrambus. Swift his melted eye 
 Review'd Phraortes on the rock supine ; 
 Then on the sage Demophilus he look'd 
 Intent, and spake ' My heart retains thy words. 
 This hour may witness how rapacious pow'r 
 The earth unpeoples. Clonius is no more. 
 But he, by Greece lamented, will acquire 
 A signal tomb. This gallant Persian, crush'd
 
 165 
 
 Beneath my fortune, bath'd in blood, still warm, 
 
 May lie forgotten by his thankless king; 
 
 Yet not by me neglected shall remain 
 
 A naked corse.' The good old man replies 
 
 < My gen'rous child, deserving that success 
 Thy arm hath gain'd ! When vital breath is fled, 
 Our friends, our foes, are equal dust. Both claim 
 The fun'ral passage to that future seat 
 Of being, where no enmity revives. 
 There Greek and Persian will together quaff 
 In amaranthine bow'rs the cup of bliss 
 Immortal. Him, thy valour slew on earth, 
 In that bless'd region thou mayst find a friend.' 
 
 This said, the ready Thespians he commands 
 To lift Phraortes from his bed of death, 
 Th' empurpled rock. Outstretch'd, on targets broad, 
 Sustain'd by hands late hostile, now humane, 
 He follows Clonius to the fun'ral pyre. 
 
 A cave, not distant from the Phocian wall, 
 Through Oeta's cloven side, had nature form'd,
 
 166 
 
 In spacious windings. This in moss she clad; 
 O'er half the entrance, downward from the roots, 
 She hung the shaggy trunks of branching firs, 
 To heav'n's hot ray impervious. Near the mouth 
 Relucent laurels spread before the sun 
 A broad and vivid foliage. High above 
 The hill was darken'd by a solemn shade, 
 Diffus'd from ancient cedars. To this cave 
 Diomedon, Demophilus resort, 
 And Thespia's youth. A deep recess appears, 
 Cool as the azure grot where Thetis sleeps 
 Beneath the vaulted ocean. Whisper'd sounds 
 Of waters, trilling from the riven stone 
 To feed a fountain on the rocky floor, 
 In purest streams o'erflowing to the sea, 
 Allure the warriors, hot with toil and thirst, 
 To this retreat serene. Against the sides 
 Their disencumber'd hands repose their shields j 
 The helms they loosen from their glowing cheeks; 
 Propt on their spears, they rest : when Agis brings 
 From Lacedsemon's leader these commands 
 
 ' Leonidas recalls you from your toils,
 
 16; 
 
 Ye meritorious Grecians. You have reap'd 
 The first bright harvest on the field of fame. 
 Our eyes in wonder, from the Phocian wall, 
 On your unequall'd deeds incessant gaz'd.' 
 
 To whom Plataea's chief ' Go, Agis, say 
 To Lacedaemon's ruler that, untir'd. 
 Diomedon can yet exalt his spear, 
 Nor feels the armour heavy on his limbs. 
 Then shall I quit the contest? Ere he sinks, 
 Shall not this early sun again behold 
 The slaves of Xerxes tremble at my lance, 
 Should they adventure on a fresh assault?' 
 
 To him the Thespian youth * My friend, my guide 
 To noble actions, since thy gen'rous heart, 
 Intent on fame, disdains to rest, O grant 
 I too thy glorious labours may partake, 
 May learn once more to imitate thy deeds. 
 Thou, gentlest Agis, Sparta's king entreat 
 Not to command us from the field of war.' 
 
 ' Yes, persevering heroes,' he reply 'd,
 
 168 
 
 ' I will return, will Sparta's king entreat 
 Not to command you from the field of war.' 
 
 Then interpos'd Demophilus ' O friend, 
 Who lead'st to conquest brave Plataea's sons; 
 Thou too, lov'd offspring of the dearest man, 
 Who dost restore a brother to my eyes ; 
 My soul your magnanimity applauds : 
 But, O reflect that unabating toil 
 Subdues the mightiest! Valour will repine 
 When the weak hand obeys the heart no more. 
 Yet I declining through the weight of years, 
 Will not assign a measure to your strength. 
 If still you find your vigour undecay'd, 
 Stay, and augment your glory. So, when time 
 Casts from your whiten'd heads the helm aside, 
 When in the temples your enfeebled arms 
 Have hung their consecrated shields, the land 
 Which gave you life, in her defence employ 'd, 
 Shall then by honours, doubled on your age, 
 Requite the gen'rous labours of your prime." 
 
 So spake the senior, and forsook the cave.
 
 But from the fount Diomedon receives 
 Th' o'erflowing waters in his concave helm, 
 Addressing thus the genius of the stream 
 
 ' Whoe'er thou art, divinity unstain'd 
 Of this fair fountain, till unsparing Mars 
 Heap'd carnage round thee, bounteous are thy streams 
 To me, who ill repay thee. I again 
 Thy silver-gleaming current must pollute, 
 Which, mix'd with gore, shall tinge the Malian slime.' 
 
 He said, and lifted in his brimming casque 
 The bright refreshing moisture. Thus repairs 
 The spotted panther to Hydaspes' side, 
 Or eastern Indus, feasted on the blood 
 Of some torn deer, which nigh his cruel grasp 
 Had roam'd, unheeding, in the secret shade; 
 Rapacious o'er the humid brink he stoops, 
 And in the pure and fluid crystal cools 
 His reeking jaws. Meantime the Thespian's eye 
 Roves round the vaulted space; when sudden sounds 
 Of music, utter'd by melodious harps 
 And melting voices, distant, but in tones
 
 170 
 
 By distance soften'd, while the echoes sigh'd 
 In lulling replication, fill the vault 
 With harmony. In admiration mute, 
 With nerves unbrac'd by rapture, he, entranc'd, 
 Stands like an eagle, when his parting plumes 
 The balm of sleep relaxes, and his wings 
 Fall from his languid side. Plataea's chief, 
 Observing, rous'd the warrior. ' Son of Mars, 
 Shall music's softness from thy bosom steal 
 The sense of glory? From his neigh b'riug camp 
 Perhaps the Persian sends fresh nations down. 
 Soon in bright steel Thermopylae will blaze. 
 Awake ! Accustom'd to the clang of arms, 
 Intent on vengeance for invaded Greece, 
 My ear, my spirit, in this hour admit 
 No new sensation, nor a change of thought.' 
 
 The Thespian, starting from oblivious sloth 
 Of ravishment and wonder, quick reply'd 
 
 ' These sounds were more than human. Hark ! 
 
 Again! 
 O honour'd friend, no adverse banner streams
 
 171 
 
 In sight. No shout proclaims the Persian freed 
 
 From his late terror. Deeper let us plunge 
 
 In this mysterious dwelling of the nymphs, 
 
 Whose voices charm its gloom.' In smiles rejoin'd 
 
 Diomedon ' I see thy soul inthrall'd. 
 
 Me thou wouldst rank among th' unletter'd rout 
 
 Of yon Barbarians, should I press thy stay. 
 
 Time favours too. Till Agis be return'd 
 
 We cannot act. Indulge thy eager search. 
 
 Here will I wait, a centinel unmov'd, 
 
 To watch thy coming.' In exploring haste 
 
 Th' impatient Thespian penetrates the cave. 
 
 He finds it bounded by a steep ascent 
 
 Of rugged steps; where, down the hollow rock, 
 
 A modulation clear, distinct, and slow, 
 
 In movement solemn, from a lyric string, 
 
 Dissolves the stagnant air to sweet accord 
 
 With these sonorous lays. Celestial maids! 
 
 While, from our cliffs contemplating the war, 
 
 We celebrate our heroes, O impart 
 
 Orphean magic to the pious strain! 
 
 That from the mountain we may call the groves j 
 
 Swift motion through these marble fragments breathe,
 
 172 
 
 To overleap the high Oetaean ridge, 
 And crush the fell invaders of our peace. 
 
 The animated hero upward springs, 
 Light as a kindled vapour, which, confin'd 
 In subterranean cavities, at length 
 Pervading, rives the surface, to enlarge 
 The long imprison'd flame. Ascending soon, 
 He sees, he stands abash 'd, then rev'rent kneels. 
 
 An aged temple, with insculptur'd forms 
 Of Jove's harmonious daughters, and a train 
 Of nine bright virgins, round their priestess rang'd, 
 Who stood in awful majesty, receive 
 His unexpected feet. The song is hush'd. 
 The measur'd movement on the lyric chord 
 In faint vibration dies. The priestess sage, 
 Whose elevated port and aspect rose 
 To more than mortal dignity, her lyre 
 Consigning graceful to attendant hands, 
 Looks with reproof. The loose, uncover'd hair 
 Shades his inclining forehead; while a flush 
 Of modest crimson dyes his youthful cheek.
 
 173 
 
 Her pensive visage softens to a smile 
 
 On worth so blooming, which she thus accosts 
 
 ' I should reprove thee, inadvertent youth, 
 Who, through the sole access by nature left 
 To this pure mansion, with intruding steps 
 Dost interrupt our lays. But rise. Thy sword 
 Perhaps embellish'd that triumphant scene 
 Which wak'd these harps to celebrating notes. 
 What is the impress on thy warlike shield ?' 
 
 ' A golden eagle on my shield I bear,' 
 Still bending low, he answers. She pursues 
 
 ' Art thou possessor of that glorious orb, 
 By me distinguish' d in the late defeat 
 Of Asia, driv'n before thee? Speak thy name. 
 Who is thy sire? Where lies thy native seat? 
 Com'st thou for glory to this fatal spot, 
 Or from Barbarian violence to guard 
 A parent's age, a spouse, and tender babes, 
 Who call thee father?' Humbly he again
 
 174 
 
 ' I am of Thespia, Dithyrambus nam'd, 
 The son of Harmatides. Snatch'd by fate, 
 He to his brother, and my second sire, 
 Demophilus, consign'd me. Thespia's sons 
 By him are led. His dictates I obey ; 
 Him to resemble strive. No infant voice 
 Calls me a father. To the nuptial vow 
 I am a stranger, and among the Greeks 
 The least entitled to thy partial praise.' 
 
 ' None more entitled,' interpos'd the dame. 
 ' Deserving hero ! thy demeanour speaks, 
 It justifies the fame, so widely spread, 
 Of Harmatides' heir. O grace and pride 
 Of that fair city, which the Muses love, 
 Thee an accepted visitant I hail 
 In this their ancient temple ! Thou shalt view 
 Their sacred haunts.' Descending from the dome, 
 She thus pursues ' First, know my youthful hours 
 Were exercis'd in knowledge. Homer's Muse 
 To daily meditation won my soul, 
 With my young spirit mix'd undying sparks 
 Of her own rapture. By a father sage
 
 175 
 
 Conducted, cities, manners, men I saw, 
 
 Their institutes and customs. I return'd. 
 
 The voice of Locris call'd me to sustain 
 
 The holy function here. Now throw thy sight 
 
 Across that meadow, whose enliven'd blades 
 
 Wave in the breeze, and glisten in the sun 
 
 Behind the hoary fane. My bleating train 
 
 Are nourish'd there, a spot of plenty, spar'd 
 
 From this surrounding wilderness. Remark 
 
 That fluid mirror, edg'd by shrubs and flow'rs; 
 
 Shrubs of my culture, flow'rs by Iris dress'd. 
 
 Nor pass that smiling concave in the hill, 
 
 Whose pointed crags are soften'd to the sight 
 
 By figs and grapes.' She pauses j while around 
 
 His eye, delighted, roves; in more delight 
 
 Soon to the spot returning, where she stood 
 
 A deity in semblance, o'er the place 
 
 Presiding awful, as Minerva wise, 
 
 August like Juno, like Diana pure, 
 
 But not more pure than fair. The beauteous lake, 
 
 The pines wide-branching, falls of water clear, 
 
 The multifarious glow on Flora's lap, 
 
 Lose all attraction, as her gracious lips
 
 176 
 
 Resume their tale ' In solitude remote 
 
 Here I have dwelt contemplative, serene. 
 
 Oft through the rocks responsive to my lyre, 
 
 Oft to tli' Amphictyons in assembly full, 
 
 When at this shrine their annual vows they pay, 
 
 In measur'd declamation I repeat 
 
 The praise of Greece, her liberty and laws. 
 
 From me the hinds, who tend their wand'ring goats 
 
 In these rude purlieus, modulate their pipes 
 
 To smoother cadence. Justice from my tongue 
 
 Dissentions calms, which ev'n in deserts rend 
 
 Th' unquiet heart of man. Now furious war 
 
 My careful thoughts engages, which delight 
 
 To help the free, th' oppressor to confound. 
 
 Thy feet auspicious fortune hither brings. 
 
 In thee a noble messenger I find. 
 
 Go, in these words Leonidas address 
 
 " Melissa, priestess of the tuneful nine, 
 
 By their behests invites thy honour 'd feet 
 
 To her divine abode. Thee, first of Greeks, 
 
 To conference of high import she calls." 
 
 Th' obedient Thespian down the holy cave
 
 177 
 
 Returns. His swiftness suddenly prevents 
 
 His friend's impatience, who salutes him thus 
 
 ' Let thy adventure be hereafter told. 
 Look yonder. Fresh battalions from the camp 
 File through the Phocian barrier, to construct 
 Another phalanx, moving tow'r of war, 
 Which scorns the strength of Asia. Let us arm: 
 That, ready station'd in the glorious van, 
 We may secure permission from the king 
 There to continue, and renew the fight.' 
 
 That instant brings Megistias near the grot. 
 To Sparta's phalanx his paternal hand 
 Was leading Menalippus. Not unheard 
 By Dithyrambus in their slow approach, 
 The father warns a young and lib'ral mind 
 
 ' Sprung from a distant boundary of Greece, 
 A foreigner in Sparta, cherish'd there, 
 Instructed, honour'd, nor unworthy held 
 To fight for Lacedaemon in her line 
 Of discipline and valour, lo! my son,
 
 178 
 
 The hour is come to prove thy gen'rous heart j 
 
 That in thy hand, not ill-intrusted, shine 
 
 The spear and buckler, to maintain the cause 
 
 Of thy protectress. Let thy mind recall 
 
 Leonidas. On yonder bulwark plac'd, 
 
 He overlooks the battle ; he discerns 
 
 The bold and fearful. May the gods I serve 
 
 Grant me to hear Leonidas approve 
 
 My son ! No other boon my age implores.' 
 
 The augur paus'd. The animated cheek 
 Of Menalippus glows. His eager look 
 Demands the fight. This struck the tender sire, 
 Who then with moisten'd eyes ' Remember too 
 A father sees thy danger., Oh ! my child, 
 To me thy honour, as to thee, is dear; 
 Yet court not death. By ev'ry filial tie, 
 By all my fondness, all my cares, I sue! 
 Amid the conflict, or the warm pursuit, 
 Still by the wise Dieneces abide. 
 His prudent valour knows th' unerring paths 
 Of glory. He admits thee to his side. 
 He will direct thy ardour. Go.' They part.
 
 179 
 
 Megistias, turning, is accosted thus 
 By Dithyrambus < Venerable seer, 
 So may that son, whose merit I esteem, 
 Whose precious head in peril I would die 
 To guard, return in triumph to thy breast, 
 As thou deliver'st to Laconia's king 
 A high and solemn message. While anew 
 The line is forming, from th' embattled field 
 I must not stray, uncall'd. A sacred charge 
 Through hallow'd lips will best approach the king.' 
 
 The Acarnanian in suspense remains 
 And silence. Dithyrambus quick relates 
 Melissa's words, describes the holy grot, 
 Then quits th' instructed augur, and attends 
 Diomedon's loud call. That fervid chief 
 Was reassuming his distinguish'd arms, 
 Which, as a splendid recompense, he bore 
 From grateful Athens, for achievements bold, 
 When he with brave Miltiades redeem'd 
 Her domes from Asian flames. The sculptur'd helm 
 Enclos'd his manly temples. From on high 
 A four-fold plumage nodded 5 while beneath
 
 180 
 
 A golden dragon, with effulgent scales, 
 Itself the crest, shot terror. On his arm 
 He brac'd his buckler. Bord'ring on the rim, 
 Gorgonian serpents twin'd. Within, the form 
 Of Pallas, martial goddess, was emboss'd. 
 Low as her feet the graceful tunic flow'd. 
 Betwixt two griffins, on her helmet, sat 
 A sphynx, with wings expanded} while the face 
 Of dire Medusa on her breastplate frown'd. 
 One hand supports a javelin, which confounds 
 The pride of kings. The other leads along 
 A blooming virgin, Victory, whose brow 
 A wreath encircles. Laurels she presents; 
 But from her shoulders all her plumes were shorn, 
 In favoured Athens ever now to rest. 
 This dread of Asia on his mighty arm 
 Diomedon uprear'd. He snatch'd his lance, 
 Then spake to Dithyrambus ' See, my friend, 
 Alone, of all the Grecians who sustain'd 
 The former onset, inexhausted stand 
 Plataea's sons. They well may keep the field, 
 Who with unslacken'd nerves endur'd that day 
 Which saw ten myriads of Barbarians driv'n
 
 181 
 
 Back to their ships, and Athens left secure. 
 Charge in our line. Amid the foremost rank 
 Thy valour shall be plac'd, to share command, 
 And ev'ry honour with Plataea's chief.' 
 
 He said no more, but tow'rds the Grecian van, 
 Impetuous, ardent, strode. Nor slow behind, 
 The pride of Thespia, Dithyrambus mov'd, 
 Like youthful Hermes in celestial arms; 
 When lightly, graceful, with his feather'd feet, 
 Along Scamander's flow'ry verge he pass'd 
 To aid th' incens'd divinities of Greece 
 Against the Phrygian tow'rs. Their eager baste 
 Soon brings the heroes to th' embattling ranks, 
 Whom thus the brave Diomedon exhorts 
 
 ' Not to contend, but vanquish, are ye come. 
 Here, in the blood of fugitives, your spears 
 Shall, unoppos'd, be stain'd. My valiant friends, 
 But chief, ye men of Sparta, view that space, 
 Where from the Malian gulph more distant rise 
 Th' Oetaean rocks, and less confine the straits.
 
 182 
 
 There if we range, extending wide our front, 
 An ampler scope to havock will be giv'n.' , . . . 
 
 To him Dieneces. ' Plataean friend, 
 Well dost thou counsel. On that wid'ning ground, 
 Close to the mountain, place thy vet'ran files. 
 Proportion'd numbers from thy right shall stretch 
 Quite to the shore, in phalanx deep, like thine. 
 The Spartans, wedg'd in this contracted part, 
 Will I contain. Behind me Alpheus waits 
 With lighter bodies. Further back the line 
 Of Locris forms a strong reserve.' He said. 
 The diff'rent bands, confiding in his skill, 
 Move on successive. The Plataeans first 
 Against the hill are station'd. In their van 
 Is Dithyrambus rank'd. Triumphant joy 
 Distends their bosoms, sparkles in their eyes. 
 
 ' Bless'd be the great Diomedon,' they shout, 
 ' Who brings another hero to our line. 
 Hail, Dithyrambus! Hail, illustrious youth! 
 Had tender age permitted, thou hadst gain'd 
 An early palm at Marathon.' His post
 
 183 
 
 He takes. His gladness blushes on his cheek 
 Amid the foremost rank. Around him crowd 
 The long-try 'd warriors. Their unnumber'd scars 
 Discov'ring, they in ample phrase recount 
 Their various dangers. He their wounds surveys 
 In veneration, nor distains to hear 
 The oft-repeated tale. From Sparta's king 
 Return'd, the gracious Agis these address'd 
 
 ' Leonidas salutes Plataea's chief, 
 And Dithyrambus. To your swords he grants 
 A further effort with Plataea's band, 
 If yet by toil unconquer'd. But I see 
 That all, unyielding,- court the promis'd fight. 
 Hail, glorious veterans ! This signal day 
 May your victorious arms augment the wreaths 
 Around your venerable heads, and grace 
 Thermopylae with Marathonian fame.' 
 
 This said, he hastens back. Meantime advance 
 The Mantinean, Diophantus brave, 
 Then Hegesander, Tegea's dauntless chief, 
 Who near Diomedon, in equal range,
 
 184 
 
 Erect their standards. Next the Thebans form. 
 Alcmiaeon, bold Eupalamus, succeed, 
 With their Corinthian and Phliasian bands. 
 Last, on the Malian shore, Mycenae's youth 
 Aristobulus draws. From Oeta's side 
 Down to the bay, in well-connected length. 
 Each gleaming rank contains a hundred spears, 
 While twenty bucklers ev ry file condense. 
 A sure support, Dieneces behind 
 Arrays the Spartans. Godlike Agis here, 
 There Menalippus, by their leader stand, 
 Two bulwarks. Breathing ardour in the rear, 
 The words of Alpheus fan the growing flame 
 Of expectation through his light-arm'd force ; 
 While Polydorus, present in his thoughts, 
 To vengeance sharpens his indignant soul. 
 
 No foe is seen. No distant shout is heard. 
 This pause of action Dithyrambus chose. 
 The solemn scene on Oeta to his friend 
 He open'd large; pourtray'd Melissa's form, 
 Reveal'd her mandate; when Plataea's chief
 
 185 
 
 ' Such elevation of a female mind 
 Bespeaks Melissa worthy to obtain 
 The conference she asks. This wondrous dame, 
 Amid her hymns, conceives some lofty thought 
 To make these slaves, who loiter in their camp, 
 Dread ev'n our women. But, my gentle friend, 
 Say, Dithyrambus, whom the liquid spell 
 Of song enchants, should I reproach the gods, 
 Who form'd me cold to music's pleasing pow'r ? 
 Or should I thank them that the soft'ning charm 
 Of sound or numbers ne'er dissolv'd my soul ? 
 Yet I confess thy valour breaks that charm, 
 Which may enrapture, not unman, thy breast.' 
 
 To whom his friend' Doth he, whose lays record 
 The woes of Priam, and the Grecian fame, 
 Doth he dissolve thy spirit? Yet he flows 
 In all the sweetness harmony can breathe.' 
 
 ' No, by the Gods,* Diomedon rejoins. 
 ' I feel that mighty muse. I see the car 
 Of fierce Achilles, see th' encumber'd wheels 
 O'er heroes driv'n, and clotted with their gore.
 
 186 
 
 Another too demands my soul's esteem, 
 
 Brave TEschylus of Athens. I have seen 
 
 His muse begirt by furies, while she swell'd 
 
 Her tragic numbers. Him, in equal rage 
 
 His country's foes o'erwhelming, I beheld 
 
 At Marathon. If Phoebus would diffuse 
 
 Such fire through ev'ry bard, the tuneful band 
 
 Might in themselves find heroes for their songs. 
 
 But, son of Harmatides, lift thine eye 
 
 To yonder point, remotest in the bay. 
 
 Those seeming clouds, which o'er the billows fleet 
 
 Successive round the jutting land, are sails. 
 
 Th' Athenian pendant hastens to salute 
 
 Leonidas. O ./Eschylus, my friend, 
 
 First in the train of Phoebus and of Mars, 
 
 Be thou on board ! Swift-bounding o'er the waves, 
 
 Come, and be witness to heroic deeds ! 
 
 Brace thy strong harp with loftier-sounding chords, 
 
 To celebrate this battle! Fall who may; 
 
 But, if they fall with honour, let their names 
 
 Round festive goblets in thy numbers ring, 
 
 And joy, not grief, accompany the song.'
 
 187 
 
 Conversing thus, their courage they beguil'd, 
 Which else, impatient of inactive hours, 
 At long-suspended glory had repin'd. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 
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