And now the Greeks, in able marches gain
By Pallas fired, the Marathonian plain,
Before their eyes th’ unbounded ocean rolls
And all Darius’ fleet — unawed their souls,
They fix their banners, and the tents they raise
And in the sun, their polished javelins blaze,
Their leaders self, within the brazen car
Their motions orders, and prepares for war;
Their labors o’er, the aged hero calls
The Chiefs to council midst the canvas walls.
And then the Sage, “How great the Persian host!
But let them not their strength or numbers boast,
Their slothful minds to love of fame unknown.
Sigh not for war, but for the spoil alone,
Strangers to honor’s pure immortal light.
They not as heroes, but as women fight;
Grovelling as proud, and cowardly as vain
The Greeks they fear, their numbers they disdain;
And now Athenians! fired by glory, rise
And lift your fame unsullied to the skies,
Your victim Persia, liberty your prize.
And now twice twenty sable bullocks bring
To heap the altars of the thundering King,
Bid twelve white heifers of gigantic breed
To Jove’s great daughter, wise Minerva bleed,
And then in sleep employ the solemn night
Nor till Apollo reigns, provoke the fight.”
The hero said; the warlike council o’er
They raise the lofty altars on the shore.
They pile in heaps the pride of all the wood
They fall the first, who first in beauty stood:
The pine that soars to heaven, the sturdy oak,
And cedars crackle at each hero’s stroke.
And now two altars stand of equal size
And lift their forms majestic to the skies.
The heroes then twice twenty bullocks bring
A worthy offering to the thundering King.
The aged leader seized the sacred knife
Blow followed blow, out gushed the quivering life
Thro’ their black hides the ruthless steel is driven
The victims groan — Jove thunders from his heaven.
And then their bulks upon the pile they lay,
The flames rush upward, and the armies pray.
Driven by the wind, the roaring fires ascend
And now they hiss in air, and now descend
With all their sap, the new cut faggots raise
Their flames to heaven, and crackle as they blaze;
And then the Sage, “Oh, thou of powers above
The first and mightiest, hear, eternal Jove!
Give us, that Athens in her strength may rise
And lift our fame and freedom to the skies!”
This said, he ceased — th’ assembled warriors pour
The sacred incense, and the God adore;
Then partial Jove propitious heard their prayer
Thrice shook the heavens, and thundered thro’ the air
With joy, the Greeks, the favoring sign inspires
And their breasts glow, with all the warlike fires:
And now twelve heifers white as snow they lead
To great Minerva’s sacred name to bleed.
They fall — their bulks upon the pile are laid
Sprinkled with oil, and quick in flame arrayed.
And now descending midst the darkening skies
Behold the Goddess of the radiant eyes.
The ground she touched, beneath the mighty load
Earth groaning rocks, and nature hails the God.
Within her hand her father’s lightnings shone,
And shield that blazes near th’ eternal throne;
The Greeks with fear, her dauntless form surveyed
And trembling, bowed before the blue eyed maid.
Then favoring, thus began the power divine,
While in her eyes celestial glorys shine;
“Ye sons of Athens, loved by heaven,” she cries
“Revered by men, be valiant and be wise,
When morn awakes, Darius numbers dare
Clang your loud arms, and rouse the swelling war:
But first to yon proud fleet a herald send
To bid the Persians yield, and fight suspend,
For vainly to their God, they suppliant call,
Jove favors Greece, and Pallas wills their fall.”
She said, and thro’ the depths of air she flies
Mounts the blue heaven, and scales the liquid skies
The Greeks rejoicing thank the powers above
And Jove’s great daughter, and eternal Jove.
To bid the Persians yield, and war suspend.
Thro’ the divided troops the herald goes
Thro’ Athens host, and thro’ th’ unnumbered foes,
Before the holy man, the Persian bands
Reverend give way, and ask what Greece demands:
He tells not all, but that he, chosen, seeks
Datis their Chief, by order of the Greeks.
The mission but in part, he, sage reveals
And what his prudence prompts him, he conceals.
Then to their Chief they lead him, where he sat
With pomp surrounded, and in gorgeous state,
Around his kingly couch, his arms were spread
Flaming in gold, by forge Cyclopean made;
And then stern Datis, frowning thus began,
“What hopes deceive thee, miserable man?
What treacherous fate allures thee thus to stray
Thro’ all our hosts? what Gods beguile the way?
Think’st thou to ‘scape the Persian steel, when Greece
Our herald crushed, and banished hopes of peace?
But speak, what will the Greeks? and do they dare
To prove our might, and tempt th’ unequal war?
Or do they deign to own Darius’ sway
And yield to Persia’s might, th’ embattled day?”
To whom th’ Athenian herald made reply
“The Greeks disdain your terms, and scorn to fly,
Unknown to heroes, and to sons of Greece
The shameful slavery of a Persian peace;
Defiance stern, not servile gifts I bring,
Your bonds detested, and despised your King;
Of equal size, the Greeks two altars raise
To Jove’s high glory, and Minerva’s praise,
The God propitious heard, and from the skies
Descends the Goddess of the azure eyes,
And thus began — Assembled Greeks give ear
Attend my wisdom, nor my glory fear;
When morn awakes, Darius numbers dare
Clang your loud arms, and rouse the swelling war,
But first to yon proud fleet a herald send
To bid the Persians yield, and war suspend
For vainly to their God, they suppliant call
Jove favors Greece, and Pallas wills their fall.”
The Goddess spoke th’ Athenians own her sway
I seek the fleet, and heaven’s command obey.
The Greeks disdain your millions in the war
Nor I, oh Chief, your promised vengeance fear
Strike! but remember that the God on high
Who rules the heavens, and thunders thro’ the sky
Not unrevenged will see his herald slain
Nor shall thy threats his anger tempt in vain.”
And thus the Greek, then Datis thus replies
Flames black and fearful scowling from his eyes,
“Herald away! and Asia’s vengeance fear
Back to your phrenzied train my mandate bear,
That Greece and Grecian Gods may threat in vain,
We scorn their anger, and their wrath disdain:
For he who lights the earth and rules the skies
With happy omens to our vows replies.
When morn uprising, breathes her saffron light
Prepare to dare our millions in the fight.
Thy life I give, Darius’ will to say
And Asia’s hate — hence Chief, no more, away!”
He said, and anger filled the Grecian’s breast
But prudent, he the rising wrath suppressed;
Indignant, thro’ the canvas tents he strode
And silently invoked the thundering God.
Fears for his country in his bosom rose.
As on he wandered midst unnumbered foes;
He strikes his swelling breast and hastens on
O’er the wide plains of barren Marathon.
And now he sees the Grecian banners rise
And well armed warriors blaze before his eyes,
Then thus he spoke— “Ye Grecian bands give ear.
Ye warrior Chiefs, and Attic heroes hear!
Your will to Asia’s other Prince I told
All which you bade me. Chieftains to unfold.
But Pallas’ vengeance I denounced in vain,
Your threats he scorned, and heard with proud disdain,
The God, he boasts, who lights the earth and skies
With happy omens to his vows replies;
Then when the uprising morn extends her light
Prepare, ye Greeks, to dare his powers in fight.”
He said — the Greeks for instant strife declare
Their will, and arm impatient for the war.
Then he their godlike Chief, as Pallas sage,
“Obey my counsels, and repress your rage,
Ye Greeks,” he cried, “the sacred night displays
Her shadowy veil, and earth in gloom arrays;
Her sable shades, e’en Persia’s Chiefs obey
And wait the golden mandate of the day:
Such is the will of Jove, and Gods above,
And such the order of the loved of Jove.”
He said — the Greeks their leaders word obey,
They seek their tents, and wait th’ approaching day,
O’er either host celestial Somnus reigns,
And solemn silence lulls th’ embattled plains.
BATTLE OF MARATHON: BOOK IV.
AND now the morn by Jove to mortals given,
With rosy fingers opes the gates of heaven,
The Persian Princes and their haughty Lord,
Gird on their arms, and seize the flaming sword:
Forth, forth they rush to tempt the battle’s roar,
Earth groans, and shouts rebellowing, shake the shore
As when the storm the heavenly azure shrouds,
With sable night, and heaps on clouds, the clouds.
The Persians rose, and croud th’ embattl’d plain
And stretch their warlike millions to the main;
And now th’ Athenians throng the fatal field
By fame inspired, and swords and bucklers wield;
In air sublime their floating banners rise,
The lances blaze; the trumpets rend the skies.
And then Miltiades— “Athenians, hear,
Behold the Persians, on the field appear
Dreadful in arms, remember Greeks your fame,
Rush to the war, and vindicate your name;
Forward! till low in death the Persians lie,
For freedom triumph or for freedom die.”
He said, his visage glows with heavenly light;
He spoke sublime, and rush’d into the fight.
And now the fury of the war began —
Lance combats lance, and man’s opposed to man,
Beneath their footsteps, groans the laboring plain
And shouts re-echoing bellow to the main.
Mars rages fierce, by heroes, heroes die,
Earth rocks, Jove thunders, and the wounded cry.
What mighty Chiefs by Aristides fell,
What heroes perished, heavenly Goddess tell.
First thou, oh Feleus, felt his conquering hand,
Stretched in the dust and weltering in the sand.
Thro’ thy bright shield the forceful weapon went,
Thy self in arms o’erthrown, thy corslet rent;
Next rash Antennes met an early fate,
And feared, alas! th’ unequal foe too late.
And Delucus the sage, and Philo fell,
And Crotan sought the dreary gates of hell,
And Mnemons self with wealth and honor crowned,
Igvered for virtue, and for fame renowned.
He, great in battle, feared the hero’s hand,
Groaning lie fell, and spurned the reeking sand:
But what bold chief thus rashly dares advance,
Tho’ not in youth, he shakes the dreadful lance.
Proudly, the earth the haughty warrior trod
He looked a Monarch and he moved a God:
Then on the Greek, with rage intrepid flew
And with one blow th’ unwary Greek o’erthrew;
That hour, oh Chief, and that eventful day
Had bade thee pass a shivering ghost away.
But Pallas, fearful for her fav’rite’s life.
Sudden upraised thee to renew the strife;
Then Aristides with fresh vigour rose.
Shame fired his breast, his soul with anger slows,
With all his force he rushes on the foe,
The warrior bending disappoints the blow,
And thus with rage contemptuous, “Chieftain know
Hippias the loved of heaven, thine eyes behold.
Renowned for strength of arm, in battle bold,
But tell thy race, and who the man whose might
Dares cope with rebel Athens’ King in fight;”
Stung to the soul, “Oh Slave, the Greek returns,
While his big heart, within his bosom burns.
Perfidious Prince, to faith and truth unknown;
On Athens’ ashes, raise thy tyrant throne,
When Grecia’s chiefs, and Grecia’s heroes fall,
When Persia’s fires, invest her lofty wall,
When nought but slaves, within her towers remain,
Then, nor till then, shalt thou, oh Hippias, reign,
Then, nor till then, will Athens yield her fame
To foul dishonor, and eternal shame;
Come on! no matter what my race or name;
For this, oh Prince, this truth unerring know
That in a Greek, you meet a noble foe.”
Furious he said, and on the Prince he sprung
With all his force; the meeting armour rung.
Struggling they raged, and both together fell,
That hour the tyrant’s ghost had entered hell.
But partial fate prolonged the Prince’s breath.
Renewed the combat, and forbad the death.
Meanwhile the hosts, the present war suspend.
Silent they stand, and heaven’s decree attend.
First the bright lance majestic Hippias threw
But erringly the missile weapon flew;
Then Aristides hurled the thirsty dart
Struck the round shield, and nearly pierced his heart.
But the bright arms, that shone with conscious pride.
Received the blow, and turned the point aside.
And thus, the Greek, “Whom your enquiring eyes
Behold, oh Prince,” th’ Athenian hero cries.
“Is Aristides, called the just, a name
By Athens honored, nor unknown to fame.”
Scared at the sound, and seized by sudden fright,
The Prince starts back, in mean, inglorious flight.
And now Bellona rages o’er the field
All strive elated, all disdain to yield;
And great Themistocles in arms renowned.
Stretched heaps of heroes on the groaning ground
;
First by his hand, fell Delos self, divine
The last loved offspring of a noble line.
Straight thro’ his neck the reeking dart was driven,
Prostrate he sinks, and vainly calls on heaven.
Next godlike Phanes, midst the Persians just,
Leucon and mighty Caudos bit the dust;
And now the Greek, with pride imprudent, dares
Victorious Mandrocles renowned in wars.
The agile Persian swift avoids the blow
Furious disarms and grasps th’ unequal foe!
Th’ intrepid Greek, with godlike calm awaits
His instant fall, and dares th’ impending fates,
But great Cynoegirus his danger spies
And lashed his steeds, the ponderous chariot flies,
Then from its brazen bulk, he leaps to ground
Beneath his clanging arms, the plains resound.
And on the Persian rushes fierce, and raised
The clattering axe on high, which threatening blazed,
And lopped his head; out spouts the smoking gore
And the huge trunk, rolled bleeding on the shore.
And then Cynoegirus, “Thus Persian go
And boast thy victory in the shades below,
A headless form, and tell who bade thee bleed,
For know a Greek performed the wonderous deed:
But thou, Themistocles, oh hero! say
Who bade thee rush, to tempt the unequal fray?
But learn from this, thy daring to restrain,
And seek less mighty foes upon the plain.”
With secret wrath, the youthful hero burned
And thus impetuous to the Chief returned;
“Such thoughts as these, unworthy those who dare
The battle’s rage, and tempt the toils of war;
Heedless of death, and by no fears opprest.
Conquest my aim, I leave to heaven the rest.”
He said, and glowed with an immortal light.
Plunged ‘midst the foes, and mingled in the fight.
Zeno the bravest of the Persian youth
Renowned for filial piety and truth;
His mother’s only joy; she loved to trace
His father’s features in his youthful face;
That Sire in fight o’erwhelmed, mid seas of gore
Slept unentombed, and cared for fame no more.
And now as youth in opening manhood glows
All his loved father in his visage rose,
Like him, regardful of his future fame
Resolved like him, to immortalize his name,
At glory’s call, he quits his native shore
And feeble parent, to return no more;
Oh! what prophetic griefs her bosom wrung
When on his neck in agony she hung!
When on that breast, she hid her sorrowing face,