Haste to Thermopyla. To Xerxes show The discipline of Spartans, long renown'd 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. Heaven 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 unwearied speeds.
Description of the Dwelling of Oileus, at which the Spartan Army halt on their march to Thermopylæ.
THE moon rode high and clear. Her light benign To their pleas'd eyes a rural dwelling show'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
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 Melibœus 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 valleys, cool'd by dewy night, We to our summons true, ere noon-tide blaze, May join Oïleus, and his praise obtain.
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 Melibus 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 lawns, 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 see'st, So fram'd by heav'n; 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. These words, engraven on a tablet rude, Megistias reads; the rest in silence hear. "Yon marble fountain, by Oïleus 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 would'st obtain perpetual grace from Jove,
"Devote thy vigour to heroic toils,
"And thy decline to hospitable cares.
"Rest here; then seek Oïleus in his vale."
The Grecian commanders, after a battle, having retired to a cave on the side of Mount Eta, Dithyrambus, discovering a passage through it, ascends to the Temple of the Muses.
A CAVE not distant from the Phocian wall Through Eta's cloven side had nature form'd 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 disincumber'd hands repose their shields; The helms they loosen from their glowing cheeks; Propp'd on their spears, they rest: when Agis brings From Lacedemon's leader these commands.
Leonidas recals you from your toils,
Ye meritorious Grecians. You have reap'd
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