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Were chaunted to the harp; and yellow mead
But ere the giant-fane Cast its broad shadows on the robe of even, Hush'd were the bards, and in the face of heaven,
O’er that old burial-plain Flash'd the keen Saxon daggers !- Blood was
streaming, Where late the mead-cup to the sun was gleaming, And Britain's hearths were heap'd that night in vain.
For they return'd no more, They that went forth at morn, with reckless heart, In that fierce banquet's mirth to bear their part;
And on the rushy floor, And the bright spears and bucklers of the walls, The high wood-fires were blazing in their halls; But not for them—they slept—their feast was o'er!
Fear ye the festal hour! Aye, tremble when the cup of joy o'erflows ! Tame down the swelling heart !-the bridal rose,
And the rich myrtle's flow'r, Have veil'd the sword !-Red wines have sparkled
fast From venom'd goblets, and soft breezes pass'd With fatal perfume through the revel's bow'r.
: Twine the young glowing wreath ! But pour not all your spirit in the song, Which through the sky's deep azure floats along,
Like summer's quickening breath! The ground is hollow in the path of mirth, Oh ! far too daring seems the joy of earth, So darkly press'd and girdled in by death!
MARIUS AMONGST THE RUINS OF CARTHAGE.
(Marius, during the time of his exile, seeking refuge in Africa, bad landed
at Carthage ; when an officer, sent by the Roman governor of Africa, came, and thus addressed him : “ Marius, I come from the Prætor Sextilius, to tell you, that be forbids you to set foot in Africa. If you obey not, he will support the senate's decree, and treat you as a public enemy.” Marius, upon hearing this, was struck dumb with grief and indignation. He uttered not a word for some time, but regarded the officer with a menacing aspect. At length, the oificer inquired what answer he should carry to the governor ? “ Go and tell him," said the unfortunate man, with a sigh, “ that thou hast seen the exiled Marius
sitting on the ruins of Carthage.”-See Plutarch.] 'Twas noon—and Afric's dazzling sun on high, With fierce resplendence fill'd th' unclouded sky;"! No zephyr wav'd the palm's majestic head, it! And smooth alike the seas and desert spread; While, desolate, beneath a blaze of light, Silent and lonely, as at dead of night, The wreck of Carthage lay—her prostrate Fanes:'? Had strew'd their precious marble o'er the plains
Dark weeds and grass the columin had o'ergrown,
There came an exile, long by fate pursued,
But slow his step- and where, not yet o'erthrown,
Crownless, but regal still With stern disdain,
kindl'd with immortal scorn!
66 Yes ! froin the awful gulf of years to come, ? ;?
“ Lo ! from the frozen forests of the North,
And their lost children bend the subject-knees
“ Bird of the sun! dread eagle ! born on high,
“ But darker years shall mingle with the past,
“ Still sleep’st thou, Roman ? Son of victory! rise ! Wake to obey th' avenging destinies !