Denies the rites of funeral fires to thofe Whose breathlefs bodies yet he calls his foes. Unburn'd, unbury'd, on a heap they lie; Such is their fate, and fuch his tyranny; No friend has leave to bear away the dead, But with their lifeless limbs his hounds are fed: 'At this fhe fhriek'd aloud; the mournful train Echo'd her grief, and, groveling on the plain, With groans, and hands upheld, to move his mind, Befought his pity to their helpless kind!
The prince was touch'd, his tears began to flow, And, as his tender heart would break in two, He figh'd; and could not but their fate deplore, So wretched now, fo fortunate before. Then lightly from his lofty steed he flew, And raising one by one the fuppliant crew, To comfort each, full folemnly he fwore,
That by the faith which knights to knighthood bore, And what e'er elfe to chivalry belongs,
He would not cease, till he reveng'd their wrongs :
That Greece fhould fee perform'd what he declar'd;
And cruel Creon find his juft reward.
He faid no more, but, fhunning all delay,
Rode on; nor enter'd Athens on his way:
But left his fifter and his queen behind,
And wav'd his royal banner in the wind:
Where in an argent field the god of war
Was drawn triumphant on his iron car;
Red was his fword, and fhield, and whole attire,
And all the godhead feem'd to glow with fire;
Ev'n the ground glitter'd where the standard flew,
And the green grafs was dy'd to fanguine hue.
High on his pointed lance his pennon bore
His Cretan fight, the conquer'd Minotaure :
The foldiers fhout around with generous rage,
And in that victory their own prefage.
He prais'd their ardour; inly pleas'd to fee
His hoft the flower of Grecian chivalry.
All day he march'd; and all th' enfuing night;
And faw the city with returning light.
The process of the war I need not tell,
How Thefeus conquer'd, and how Creon fell:
Or after, how by ftorm the walls were won,
Or how the victor fack'd and burn'd the town:
How to the ladies he restor'd again
The bodies of their lords in battle flain :
And with what ancient rites they were interr'd;
All these to fitter times fhall be deferr'd:
I fpare the widows tears, their woeful cries,
And howling at their husbands obfequies;
How Thefeus at these funerals did affift,
And with what gifts the mourning dames dismiss'd.
Thus when the victor chief had Creon flain,
And conquer'd Thebes, he pitch'd upon the plain
His mighty camp, and, when the day return'd,
The country wafted, and the hamlets burn'd,
And left the pillagers, to rapine bred,
Without control to strip and spoil the dead.
There, in a heap of flain, among the reft
Two youthful knights they found beneath a load opprefs'd
Of flaughter'd foes, whom firft to death they fent,
The trophies of their ftrength, a bloody monument.
Both fair, and both of royal blood they feem'd,
Whom kinsmen to the crown the heralds deem`d;
That day in equal arms they fought for fame;
Their fwords, their fhields, their furcoats, were the same.
Clofe by each other laid, they prefs'd the ground,
Their manly bofoms pierc'd with many a griefly wound;
Nor well alive, nor wholly dead they were,
But fome faint figns of feeble life appear :
The wandering breath was on the wing to part,
Weak was the pulse, and hardly heav'd the heart.
These two were fifters' fons; and Arcite one,
Much fam'd in fields, with valiant Palamon..
From these their coftly arms the spoilers rent,
And foftly both convey'd to Thefeus' tent :
Whom known of Creon's line, and cur'd with care,
He to his city fent as prifoners of the war,
Hopeless of ranfom, and condemn'd to lie
In durance, doom'd a lingering death to die.
This done, he march'd away with warlike found,
And to his Athens turn'd with laurels crown'd,
Where happy long he liv'd, much lov'd, and more
renown'd.
But in a tower, and never to be loosid,.
The woeful captive kinfmen are inclos'd:
Thus year by year they pafs, and day by day, Till once, 'twas on the morn of chearful May, The young Emilia, fairer to be seen
Than the fair lily on the flowery green,
More fresh than May herself in blossoms new,
For with the rofy colour ftrove her hue,
Wak'd, as her custom was, before the day,
To do th' obfervance due to fprightly May:
For fprightly May commands our youth to keep
The vigils of her night, and breaks their fluggard sleep;
Each gentle breaft with kindly warmth she moves;
Infpires new flames, revives extinguish'd loves.
In this remembrance Emily ere day
Arofe, and drefs'd herfelf in rich array;
Fresh as the month, and as the morning fair;
Adown her shoulders fell her length of hair :
A ribband did the braided treffes bind,
The reft was loofe, and wanton'd in the wind:
Aurora had but newly chas'd the night,
And purpled o'er the sky with blufhing light,
When to the garden walk fhe took her way,
To sport and trip along in cool of day,
And offer maiden vows in honour of the May.
At every turn, she made a little stand,
And thrust among the thorns her lily hand
To draw the rofe, and every rofe fhe drew
She fhook the ftalk, and brush'd away the dew :
Then party-colour'd flowers of white and red
She wove, to make a garland for her head :
This done, she sung and carol'd out so clear,
That men and angels might rejoice to hear :
Ev'n wondering Philomel forgot to fing;
And learn'd' from her to welcome-in the spring.
The tower, of which before was mention made,
Within whofe keep the captive knights were laid,
Built of a large extent, and ftrong withal,
Was one partition of the palace wall :
The garden was inclos'd within the square,
Where young Emilia took the morning-air.
It happen'd Palamon the prisoner knight,
Restless for woe, arofe before the light,
And with his jaylor's leave defir'd to breathe
An air more wholesome than the damps beneath.
This granted, to the tower he took his way,
Chear'd with the promise of a glorious day :
Then caft a languishing regard around,
And faw with hateful eyes the temples crown'd
With golden fpires, and all the hoftile ground.
He figh'd, and turn'd his eyes, because he knew
'Twas but a larger gaol he had in view :
Then look'd below, and from the caftle's height
Beheld a nearer and more pleafing fight:
The garden, which before he had not seen,
In fpring's new livery clad of white and green,
Fresh flowers in wide parterres, and shady walks be
This view'd, but not enjoy'd, with arms across
He stood, reflecting on his country's lofs;
Himself an object of the public scorn,
And often wifh'd he never had been born.
At laft, for fo his deftiny requir'd,
With walking giddy, and with thinking tir'd,
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