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Upon our side, we who were strong in love!
* Supreme of Heroes-bravest, noblest, best !
But if thou goest, I follow ” “Peace!” he said, She looked upon him and was calmed and cheered; The ghastly colour from his lips had fled ;
In his deportment, shape, and mien, appeared | Elysian beauty, melancholy grace, Brought from a pensive though a happy place.
But should suspense permit the Foe to cry,
Behold they tremble !-haughty their array, Yet of their number no one dares to die?' In soul I swept the indignity away : Old frailties then recurred :—but lofty thought, In act embodied, my deliverance wrought.
* For the account of these long-lived trees, se Natural History, lib. xvi. cap. 44. ; and for the lo the character of Protesilaus see the Iphigenia :) Euripides. Virgil places the Shade of Landet mournful region, among unhappy Lovers,
Mourn, and lament for him whose spirit dreads
For him who to divinity aspired, (SEE PLUTARCH).
Not on the breath of popular applause,
But through dependence on the sacred laws SERENE, and fitted to embrace,
Framed in the schools where Wisdom dwelt retired, Where'er he turned, a swan-like grace
Intent to trace the ideal path of right Of haughtiness without pretence,
(More fair than heaven's broad causeway paved And to unfold a still magnificence,
with stars) Was princely Dion, in the power
Which Dion learned to measure with sublime And beauty of his happier hour.
delight;, And what pure homage then did wait
But He hath overleaped the eternal bars ; On Dion's virtues, while the lunar beam
And, following guides whose craft holds no consent Of Plato's genius, from its lofty sphere,
With aught that breathes the ethereal element, Fell round him in the grove of Academe,
Hath stained the robes of civil power with blood, Softening their inbred dignity austere
Unjustly shed, though for the public good. That he, not too elate
Whence doubts that came too late, and wishes vain, With self-sufficing solitude,
Hollow excuses, and triumphant pain ; But with majestic lowliness endued,
And oft his cogitations sink as low Might in the universal bosom reign,
As, through the abysses of a joyless heart, And from affectionate observance gain
The heaviest plummet of despair can goHelp, under every change of adverse fate.
But whence that sudden check? that fearful start!
He hears an uncouth sound
Anon his lifted eyes
And hideous aspect, stalking round and round !
And fiercely swept the marble floor,Who leads them on?—The anxious people see
Like Auster whirling to and fro, Long-exiled Dion marching at their head,
His force on Caspian foam to try; He also crowned with flowers of Sicily,
Or Boreas when he scours the snow
That skins the plains of Thessaly,
The sullen Spectre to her purpose bowed,
Sweeping-vehemently sweepingAnd, as the great Deliverer marches by,
No pause admitted, no design avowed ! He looks on festal ground with fruits bestrown; “ Avaunt, inexplicable Guest !_avaunt,"' And flowers are on his person thrown
Exclaimed the Chieftain—“let me rather see In boundless prodigality;
The coronal that coiling vipers make; Nor doth the general voice abstain from prayer, The torch that flames with many a lurid flake, Lovoking Dion's tutelary care,
And the long train of doleful pageantry
Which they behold, whom vengeful Furies haunt;
Move where the blasted soil is not unworn,
But Shapes that come not at an earthly call,
Mockery-or model roughly hewn,
Ill-fated Chief! there are whose hopes are built
1. Ye plough-shares sparkling on the slopes! Ye snow-white lambs that trip Imprisoned ’mid the formal props Of restless ownership! Ye trees, that may to-morrow fall To feed the insatiate Prodigal ! Lawns, houses, chattels, groves, and fields, All that the fertile valley shields ; Wages of folly-baits of crime, Of life's uneasy game the stake, Playthings that keep the eyes awake Of drowsy, dotard Time ;O care ! O guilt !-0 vales and plains, Here, 'mid his own unvexed domains, A Genius dwells, that can subdue At once all memory of You,Most potent when mists veil the sky, Mists that distort and magnify; While the coarse rushes, to the sweeping Sigh forth their ancient melodies !
XXXIII. THE PASS OF KIRKSTONE.
List to those shriller notes !--that march
WITHIN the mind strong fancies work,