Of Ignorance assail'd; ye, when they rais'd
'The supplicating eye and clasp'd your knees,
Ye stretch'd above them your protecting shields,
Led them uninjur'd from the strife of war,
And sent them forth to civilize the world.'
Now loose the cable from the wave-worn rock, Raise the broad sail, and to the winds of Heav'n Unfurl it; push our light bark from the shore, And whilst the billows of the angry main
Curl o'er its bow, in solemn chorus raise
The melodies of twice a thousand years,
Till from each rocky point and headland dark,
The shades of those who conquer'd on these plains, 90 Seem to bend list'ning. Now th' Ægean sea
Spreads broad before us, on its golden breast Bearing those beauteous isles of amethyst, Or jasper, as th' inconstant hues of eve Float o'er their hills.
Swiftly our light bark stems The foaming eddies; Sunium's cape, which late Seem'd but a cloud upon the ocean's wave, Now clear emerging to the view, displays
Its red-stain'd rocks by pendent flow'rs o'erhung,
Its dusky caves, its shrubs of living green,
And its white temple bleach'd by wint'ry storms. Beneath its crags the light wind dies away,
Whilst fav'ring breezes fill the latteen sail Of yon kaïki,' which thro' whit'ning foam Gains on our tardy course. My sturdy Greeks Bend forward to your oars, and urge our flight Across the slumb'ring sea; captivity Or death await us if we linger here. The lawless Mainote, sitting at the helm, Points to our bark becalm'd, and urges on His pirate-fellows to the chase; e'en now I view the swarthy brow and savage eye Glaring beneath their caps of crimson hue. But lo! the gale circling the rocky cape,
Comes dimpling the blue wave; our flagging sail
Receives it, and impels us on our way. The shores of Attica recede; the gulph, Saronic bears us on its yielding breast, Near bleak Ægina, from whose woody hill The ruin'd fane of Jove o'erlooks the deep;
Oft hail'd by those of ancient days who plough'd Th' Ægean tide from Asia to the land
Of Cecrops, when upon the sea they cast
Sweet flow'ry wreaths, and cups of Samian wine,
Their votive offerings to the marine God.
Hence louder breezes waft our little boat
Beneath the dusky hills of Argolis,
Round that bluff point, which from its foam-girt breast
Beats back th' indignant surge; till Nauplia's bay,
The haven of our rest, mantled in night,
In Tiryns wheel'd his unremitted course From morn to eve around these battlements, And steel'd his limbs by toil. Hence Diomed With clarions gave the signal to unmoor And stem the surge to Troy. There Danaus, From Ægypt fugitive, beneath the rock
Of Argos sat, and bade his daughters raise
The suppliant bough. Where yonder mound looks gray, With heaps of sculptur'd marble strew'd around, The meek Electra on her father's tomb Pour'd her sad off'rings, streams of honied milk, And purple wine, and hung her ringlets shorn, And myrtle wreaths, to sooth his angry shade. The morning sun of Greece's glory rose Upon thy tow'rs, Mycenae, gleaming far In battle's pomp, and when it set in night, It cast a parting ray against thy walls, Ruin'd and desolate. The time has been When potent chieftains from thy ramparts saw, Far as the eye could reach, their subject hosts Dark'ning yon champain with the measur'd march Of steel-girt files. This lion-sculptur'd gate Threw wide her portals to receive her lord, Victor from Troy; here as he pass'd along, The tim'rous virgin, lifting up her veil, Gaz'd on his manly stature, tow'ring high In the triumphal car; his war-worn front, His bruised cuirass, and his gloomy helm,
Drawn by William Haygarth.
Antient Gate of Mycenael.
London, Published May 2 1814 by G. & W. Nice Pall Mall.
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