Classic Poem

S PIRIT OF War ! with Attributes so dread,
Whence in thy train such generous Virtues led!
What Spell does Murder, to High Fame, translate,
And make men praise the crime that most they hate?
Whence comes thy hold, e'en on those tender hearts
Forth which the generous sigh of Pity starts,
Midst whose fine nerves Affection Transport gives,
And all that's gentle, all that's Godlike, lives?
What Mixture complex is the human mind,
At times impure at others so refined,
Can Reasoners tell? If not — why Reason given
From the bright sources of Omniscient Heaven?
Can boasting Reason really trace Effect,
And, in its germ, a Consequence detect,
Or, in Effect, discover clearly Cause?
Say, whence then springs man's tendency to Wars!
Reason's scant flow but gives us thirst for more!
When arid Summers crave the clouds to pour,
The passing clouds, of moisture niggard, glide
And o'er the parch'd up earth too lofty ride;
If transient drops are scantily express'd
How vegetation's cheer'd! where'er they rest.
But, when the earth requires more copious gifts
As the cleft soil its herbage scarcely lifts,
In vain it asks, though want its bosom rends,
No moisture comes, no wish'd for flood descends!
R EASON 's as niggard, when we seek to scan
The complex Mysteries of the mind of man,
Man's only known by R EVELATION 's Light!
Celestial Demon, Angel fallen from Right!
Say, who was He that like a castled Rock
Withstood the Battle's most intemperate Shock?
Dark was his visage, and his Eye, all beam,
Emitted round a soul appalling gleam!
No helmet's strength his Scimetar withstood,
Each breast it struck gave forth its crimson flood.
Now up the Mount with winged speed he'd fly
And from its Summit glance his eagle eye
Across the war; mark where the French gave way,
Or where seem'd shrunk the fortune of the day,
The post of risk the Hero swiftly sought,
And bore down all, whoe'er the foe he fought.
Say, Muse, whilst now in hours of rest and night
Lethargic quiet stills the rage of fight,
Say who the man that, in himself a host,
Opposed Invasion on the Syrian coast?
O SMYN , who thus by Patriot love is roused,
The rich A BDALLAH 's lovely child espoused.
Three months a Bridegroom, lest his Country fall
The Bridegroom rush's The Guardian of the wall.
In vain fond Ira's tears, for Her he fought,
And when, in sympathy, the Father caught
The soft infection of his Daughter's fears,
Vain were his prayers as lovely Ira's tears.
Osmyn, all Soldier, in his lofty Soul
E'en Love could not the Patriot fire controul!
Each Eve, returning from the batter'd towers
As to their camp the foe led off their powers,
He smiled at all the Terrors she confess'd,
All Danger mocked, and half her fears suppress'd.
As bold he spoke of Death, and War, and Arms,
New Grace the subject gave his manly charms.
Enamour'd Ira hung upon the sounds,
Like Roman A RRIA thought of painless wounds,
Till, grown at length familiar with the theme,
Oh! female feeling ever in extreme!
No more she shudder'd as the Cannon roar'd,
Nor shrunk in thought, e'en from th' uplifted sword.
— The trembling Eaglet thus, from rocky height,
Stranger to Earth, and neighbour to the Light,
Beholds its Sire the liquid desart try
And with his broad expanse securely fly!
It shrinks, all Wonder, at the awful view,
Still, its keen eyes the hardy track pursue,
He wishes often, trembles oft'ner still,
To venture too prepares, yet, doubts its skill;
At length, 'twixt Emulation and Despair
Its pinion lifts, and plunges into air!
Day sprang, the Feigner bade her Lord adieu,
Then from a sandal Chest, impatient, drew
The flowing Robes and blossom tinctured vest
Which Osmyn's youthful Brother once had dressed,
Who now on wealth and fruitful travel bent
To distant Cashmire on adventures went.
Before the Mirror moved the war-robed Fair
Her Figure charm'd her, and her graceful air.
The manly turban next, of crimson dye,
Flash'd a new Boldness o'er her radiant eye,
She, fearless, in her belt a dagger placed
By sanguine rubies thickly set embraced.
Again, her novel form distinct to view,
From room to room, from glass to glass, she flew.
Self-satisfied, more gravely now she strode
And acts a frown, and nods in stately mode.
Her Nurse, the nurse in Asia is through Life
Respected friend of Infant, Maiden, Wife,
Some time the Matron had the fair one sought
And, in her Strut, the startled Ira caught!
To bursts of Laughter each awhile gave way,
And moments passed in Mirth and blithe delay.
Serious the beauteous Ira sudden grew,
Impressions graver o'er each feature flew,
Her waken'd countenance with Meaning glowed,
Her front, of teeming Ventures seem'd th' abode
Think not she said, with Dignity of port,
Thou see'st me Abra thus arrayed in Sport!
My Husband's fate to share, and near his side,
Is the fixed Will of his devoted bride,
Nay, shriek not thus, your clamour now restrain,
In vain thy sorrow, thy remonstrance vain!
The timid heart of Ira Duty steels,
Love gives, like courage, Fortitude she feels.
Duty is Passion, in a soul like mine,
No selfish Prudence doth its bounds define!
In grov'ling minds compress'd and slow its tide,
Through Life a humble and a placid guide.
Its Sway more grand in minds of higher Tone,
Content when reach'd its utmost bounds alone!
Oh! if thy heart, through age, is deaden'd now,
Youth swells in mine, and animates my brow,
The arm which threatens Osmyn with a blow
May feel what powers from female vengeance flow!
Let Men, let Heroes, for their Country fight,
The field tread proudly deathful Fame invite,
Let P AIRIOTS boast they, for a Nation, fall!
For Love I arm, and dare the fatal Wall.
My Husband bleed, and not his Ira by
To staunch the blood or catch his parting sigh!
Now, whilst I linger, may the sword descend
And Osmyn sink, unaided by a friend.
On this thought! quickly she her Sabre drew
And through the streets with wilder'd air she flew.
The beauteous seeming Youth small notice caught,
Each bosom with its own deep interests fraught,
If variant Agony her features show'd
In every face the same expression flowed,
For showers of bullets on the ramparts fall
And wounded townsmen stagger from the wall.
Almost to frenzy was her horror wrought
As she her Osmyn each way vainly sought!
Distinguish'd freely, wheresoe'er his stand,
In height still lofty midst the tallest band,
Still, still, his graceful port ne'er met her eye!
From post to post they saw the Trembler fly,
Nor wonder'd that a boy, so young, so fair,
Should rush from danger with distracted air.
At length, amidst her hurried frenzied flight
One spot she mark'd, where thickest seem'd the fight,
Ah, there! she cried, if Osmyn breathes, he's there!
And onward darted the courageous Fair,
Nor vain — his towering port she raptured knew,
And soon his graceful prowess caught her view.
Now, backward stepping, safe from view she staid,
To catch her Osmyn's tender glance afraid,
Lest he should, anxious, force her from the breach
Where stood himself, within each danger's reach
From the bold foe she saw, in thousands strong,
With fearless valour to the bulwarks throng.
Where'er he moved she kept him in her view,
Now forward stept — now gently she withdrew.
As haughty war with thundering force came on,
She proudly saw that First her Osmyn shone,
That from his conquering troop th' invaders fled,
Much of whose haughtiest blood that hour was shed.
At length the frenchmen, forced to be discreet,
Their cannon silenced and commenced retreat.
Ira beheld her Osmyn safe descend,
And to their homes th' elated townsmen tend,
By shorter route she swiftly flew before,
And anxious Abra clasp'd her at the door!
The lovely Soldier to her toilette ran
And, in few minutes, was no longer man!
When her loved Lord appear'd, her sprightly eye,
Full oft at Abra glancing meaning sly,
Darted her Joy that safely he return'd,
Concealed her feat, and with her Secret burn'd.
A splendid feast attendant slaves prepare,
Her Sire and Husband in her transports share.
And Music, ardent, rapid, lent its strain
To raise Defiance to the hostile plain!
Ira's soft Maids with wreaths of flowers advance,
And glide, to sweeter notes, in varied dance,
Bound, as though-air the element they trod,
Vanish, as formed of air, at Ira's nod.
Again, symphonious music swells its notes,
And round the dome Sublimer Cadence floats!
New nerves the Soul, calls up its fiercest tone,
And turns man's melting heart t'unyielding stone.
— Such were the strains in Asia taught to rise
When youthful Ammon, urged by Lais' eyes,
Rush'd from his throne Persepolis to flame,
And by the fire he rais'd immortalized her Shame!
Her secret charms her! The succeeding day
The Bride resumed her masculine array.
Now, lest the nurse should grave advice enforce,
And fill with hated Prudence vain discourse,
Successive tasks she gave her anxious mind,
To other rooms the busy Dame confined.
The Mirror's oft repeated min'stry past,
And each review found sweeter than the last,
The hardy Bride resought the martial towers,
For these abandon'd all her peaceful bowers.
Osmyn the star her darting glances sought,
They soon explored the station where he fought,
Then, as before, she varying distance kept
And quick as light from place to place oft stept.
Long, from the Walls and Towers was urged the fight,
So long, her Husband safe cheer'd Ira's sight,
She scarcely felt the Danger of the scene,
And saw balls bound almost with air serene,
No wound being felt, she never dreamt of pain,
Her Husband safe! her thoughts no fears retain.
A bold Sortie at length the warriors crave,
On through the Gate the spirited and brave
Rush like impetuous waves, and thence expand
Th' invaders driving o'er the death strew'd strand.
— Unhappy Ira! in the rush she's borne
Her feet unwilling from the Rampart torn,
In vain her Struggles — through the gate she's press'd,
In vain she speaks, her tones no step arrest,
All, all Confusion, Horror, Anguish, Death,
Her Senses gone though still retain'd her breath.
The French now turned and closer grew the fight,
Not once has Osmyn cheer'd her far strained sight!
Around her sink the dying and the dead,
She, frantic, tears the turban from her head,
Her falling tresses caught no warrior's eye,
They only lived to bleed, to kill, to die.
Her vaunted Courage false with Death so near
She's almost Mad with soul distracting fear!
At length an Opening's made, through which she darts,
Skims o'er the sanguine field, here pants, there starts;
Her shining Sabre in her right hand grasp'd,
The left her ringlet-hair unconscious clasp'd,
A frenchman saw — Safe aim! for me he cried,
And seized his pistol quickly from his side,
Expert enough, my Youth, art thou to fly,
Your speed to check with level aim I try.
He'd scarcely spoken e'er the bullet flew
Her bosom pierced, and forth its life stream drew.
She tottering fell, then, turned her fading eye
On him who seem'd almost himself to die,
His Looks and Action blamed his forward zeal,
For murder'd Beauty — made a Frenchman feel!
She — faintly — O SMYN ! cried, her only word,
But, oft repeated, fainter — fainter — heard —
Lo! Osmyn! — thither Battle's eddying tide
Bore the fierce combat — — ah! fond Ira died!
Towards the spot he saw the warriors tend,
In earnest posture o'er one fallen bend,
" Beauty" and " Female" were the sounds that flew,
As near, with rapid step, the Hero drew,
The beck'ning Youths still quicker speed invite,
And heightening Curiosity excite,
He ran — he madden'd! deadly pale she lay,
Unveil'd her lifeless features to the day!
No mind, unaided by inspiring Power,
Could e'er convey the feelings of the hour!
I RA WAS DEAD ! Thy pencil Science seize,
Sublimed to agony thy feelings raise,
Whate'er is horrible, or deep, compel
To give their Shades and in thy Fancy dwell.
Ah! throw thy trifling failing Pencil by,
For eager Frenzy wears a Cherub's eye
Compared to that which in the glance should roll
Of him who'd hope to picture Osmyn's soul.
His Heart would sicken, as his canvass glowed,
And grief too fierce awake as Science flowed,
Cold trem'lous Sorrow steal his powers away,
His lines imperfect rise, Ideas all decay!
As wan as Ira, Rome's V IRGINIA seemed,
As, Tyrant's victim, her last eye-beam gleamed.
But, roused to Vengeance by expiring Charms,
Rome rush'd against its palaces in arms,
Her dying voice was Nature's Great Decree!
With her last sigh, She made her Country free!
— The heart of Osmyn every Solace spurn'd,
His frantic grief to desperate Fury turn'd,
The War! the War! his mad'ning thoughts require,
Ah! there, 'tis there, his Misery will expire.
And there, once more, for I RA Osmyn fought
His arm She nerved, and fill'd his every thought.
He utter'd Ira! as his Sabre rose,
The frenchmen faulter'd, Ira gave the blows.
The Syrian Youth in his Revenge engage,
Assume his feelings, emulate his Rage,
Undaunted follow to partake his chance,
One Beauty's death a thousand deaths cost France.
Ah, search thou R EASONER ! when Armies bleed
Thyvain Stores search, to tell whence sprang the deed!
Not, always, Patriot fire in Heroes dwells,
Not always Loyalty their courage swells.
Ambition's self not always fires their Souls,
Though so put down in grave Historic Rolls!
Envy, Revenge, and Love, take each their part,
Inflame the Man, excite the Warrior's heart.
Oft, public Lustre has been gain'd by Chiefs
But urged in part, like him, by private griefs,
And e'en in breasts where Self alone abode,
Romance, call'd History, says pure Virtue glowed!
Or, as it chance! these Reasoners filch all Fame
From him, whose Motives merit deathless name!
The English absent, Acre could not hope
Long with that army's conquering bands to cope
Whose skill so great such numerous states had found,
Whose arms Successes had inspired and crown'd,
Who, now retired, their Strength renewed by rest,
Refreshing slumbers soothing every breast,
Whilst sunk in sleep, in Acre, none were found
But all were harass'd on the nightly round.
To fill the Breaches which the day had made
Kept all upon the walls, the peaceful shade
Should spread unbroken through the reign of night
The gleaming Torches streak with flitting light,
As harass'd soldiers flash them to and fro
To aid their comrades in their work of woe.
Still the firm Ghezar, waving claims of Age,
Quite dauntless, dared the siege's hottest rage.
This is the Man, who scorning to be beat,
Before whose Towers baulk'd Gallia learn'd Retreat,
Insatiate Malice stirred in those he fought —
'Twas low revenge the valiant Generals sought!
They seized the Pen, since vanquish'd was the Sword,
And on his Name malicious Slanders poured,
Of Cruelties french hearts alone conceive,
And minds less savage learn not to believe.
From charges framed — by those who've done such deeds!
The faith of Britons scornfully recedes.
As from Morn's rays the waning night withdrew
His wither'd army met sad Achmet's view!
Where now the Youths the opening siege beheld,
Whose lofty minds with genuine valour swelled?
For ever vanish'd, trodden in the dust,
And England absent, Syria's firmest Trust!
But Courage still inspired his aged breast,
Sustain'd his sinking mind, his fears repress'd.
Throughout the city each man's heart he tries,
Where'er he moves new hopes new Courage rise,
A view of him whom palsying age can't lull
Warms the cold spirit and awakes the dull,
Alone the fabled Promethean ray
Could Achmet's all-enlivening power display!
Ah! through a Postern at whose feet the Mole
At safer distance makes the wild Deep roll
E LCANOR comes! and in the lengthening rear
A gallant troop of armed Youth appear,
Up to the walls with buoyant hearts they throng,
Not proud in Numbers, but in Valour strong;
Achmet beheld them with elate Surprise,
Full Welcome darted from his martial eyes.
In Syria's blooming forests, ever wreathed,
Not unobservant, faithful C HRISTIANS breathed
In federate Towns. Where L EBANON'S high front
Preserves amidst its Shades the Hallow'd Font,
Elcanor, of his pious sect the boast,
Around him summon'd a determined host!
" This night he cried to Acre let us fly,
Nor here in Indolence disgraceful lie.
Oh let us emulate what reach'd our Ear,
Now England's force to aid them is not near
Its Fame shall acts approximate inspire,
We'll catch a ray from their immortal fire,
A Deed we'll enter in that glowing page
Which A SIA will record from Age to Age!
" When Revolution broke the Earth's repose,
The World has heard that Britain boldly rose,
Her Sons and Brothers wore the martial vest,
Her Husbands, Fathers, bore the plumed crest,
Embodied by Themselves, they proudly stood
Their Country guarding from th'impending flood.
Invasion, foil'd thus, now reverted runs
O'er other realms, and reaches Asia's sons!
" But, Christian England, generous, follows here
The foe she turned! How ought we to revere
The Christian Rule, our Brothers thus exceed,
Who ask no aid Themselves, and yet for Others bleed!
" See, near the Sycamores on yonder Rise,
The misty moon sinks, sullen, from our eyes,
When lately thence her rays the darkness drove
Our women wander'd safely through the grove,
Whilst Mothers, Sisters, loiter'd in the shades,
Sweet lisping Cherubs played through moonlight glades.
Now, struck with fear, they shun the lunar sky,
Invasion! 'tis from thee the tremblers fly!
At thy name scared the timid Infant shrieks
As its griev'd mother secret Caverns seeks,
There, midst the gloom, her chill'd babe lulls to rest,
Whilst sleepless terror vibrates through her breast.
And shall not we from midst our Groves come forth
To drive th' Invaders homeward to their North? "
" They all obey his long respected voice,
His Will at once became the general Choice,
They blush that slumbers had approach'd their lids
They arm, and follow as Elcanor bids;
And where groves waving cool the passing air
At the Town's verge, they for descent repair.
Now forth the Gates two Maidens fleetly rush'd,
From whose eyes glittering tears full swiftly gush'd,
In him who goes thus trembling for their Sire,
The beauteous maidens deepest sighs suspire.
E UDOSIA , like a graceful Palm appeared
In some young grove by skilful culture rear'd,
Her face was Grecian, and her silky hair,
Dark as the Raven's when, in midway air,
His plumage intercepts the radiant day,
And throws it back a sable shining ray.
Rich strings of pearl contrasted beauty gave,
As 'midst her braided locks they loosely wave.
Her Form was shaded by a thin Caftan,
Her less'ning waist bright silver girdles span.
The Elder this. The gay S APHIRA'S mien
Appear'd caught from ideal Beauty's Queen.
Her hair, which seem'd bright streams of yellow light,
Not deep as Amber, and yet more than white,
Was turned beneath her turban's fleecy round,
O'er which rich various jewelry was bound.
Though now in Sorrow sinks her lovely head,
And now her foot forgets its graceful tread,
Her dazzling glances still yield vivid fire
Though the sweet circlets mournfully retire —
The magic circlets! that can transport dart,
Or strike with withering ray the shrinking heart,
Speak, in inspiring language, to the Soul,
Or all its powers by rigid beams controul,
How vainly Words in power to equal try
The more efficient Rhetoric of the Eye!
Elcanor chid th' exuberance of their fears,
Thus awed their murmurs and repress'd their tears —
" If other Christians here stretch forth their hands
Against these recreant invading bands,
Shall fear stay Us! whose fathers Heaven led
By Guiding Star to our Messiah's bed?
Shall he says " Mahomet is Prophet true "
From midst his camp, the Blasphemy ne'er rue?
Rely, though victories he elsewhere found
He ne'er will Victory know — on Holy Ground!"
His Daughters bend, and struck with awe retire
In trust that Heaven will go forth with their Sire.
Elcanor turns and leads his bands again,
Who swiftly now descended to the plain
Which erst saw Gideon fearlessly proceed,
And but three hundred o'er the valley lead
'Gainst Midian's troops, who numberless were found
Consuming Earth's encrease 'till Famine raged around.
Not higher Faith, nor scarcely Zeal, inspired
Those Gideon led, than those Elcanor fired;
Each band in emulative firmness shone,
Each Chief, each Soldier, fearless darted on,
All bent on Glory, Vengeance, Triumph, Fame,
Unfailing Courage, and immortal Name!
To make stern Acre pass beneath the yoke
The gallic foe in firm resolve awoke.
All bright with Arms, the Vale reflects the ray
Pour'd from the Source that gives the hours of day
New streams of Brightness spring from each recess,
With dreadful glimmer all the uplands dress,
And, as the changed manaeuvres lines impelled,
New floods of splendor forth each inlet swelled.
Now, the big war with all its Grandeur teems,
A Mine is sprung, whose mischief sure he deems,
Though a deep fissure the explosion makes,
And earth convulsed in lengthened tremors shakes,
And Bastions strong and injured turrets rock,
Ill measured distance half defeats the shock.
So Ætna trembles from concussive fires
Though still it stands, and still to Heaven aspires.
Th' Assault they urge with utmost rage, in vain,
Throng they the Fosse the half-made Breach to gain?
The Turks with ponderous rock assail each head
And fill the ditch with wounded and with dead,
Vast fiery brands in all directions throw
And scalding liquids on each wretch below,
Whole sheets of flame descend and boiling streams,
War, waged for Conquest, with such effort teems.
But these Elcanor and his troops disclaim,
They distant deaths inflict, with general aim,
With the firm Infantry their post they chose,
Whose double line upon the Rampart rose.
Mischief impends! be guarded 'gainst Despair!
Yon Mortar's glowing arch that curves in air,
'Tis cowering now! fate's Messenger it flies,
Its victim — Osmyn! in an instant dies.
Osmyn is dead! in piercing accents flew,
The French receive the sound, their Hopes renew!
Up to the Gates the sanguine Soldiers press,
Their Spirits rising with assured success.
But as the Lion on his chasers turns,
His rage, awakening courage, fiercer burns,
So turn the Syrians on th' advancing foe,
And heighten'd fervors through their bosoms glow.
Osmyn's freed soul seems hovering o'er their heads,
Still on the walls, unseen, the Hero treads,
His Zeal inspires, his Vengeance lives, in all,
Th' invaders feel it in their soldiers' fall.
They vary their approach, each angle try,
Attack full oft, and full as often fly,
As due to Justice pouring o'er the land
The stream of life from every chosen band.
Their Generals, midst the carnage, scour'd the field,
Undaunted moved and round the warriors wheel'd.
To cheer their men they fly from rank to rank,
Rally the Van, invigorate the Flank.
Their ardent efforts are not wholly vain,
With utmost struggle, scarcely now maintain
The brave besieged the Fort against their foes,
Though courage urged by Danger fiercely glows.
— But, midst the toughest struggle of the fight,
Sudden, like summer evening streams of light,
When the warm regions of the air enfold
Electric flakes and shoot phosphoric gold,
The English ships returning to the Mole
Their cheering Lightnings flash, their grateful Thunders roll!
To favoring winds they had unfurled their sails,
And chained the vagrant Genius of the gales,
With the first breeze — they thought too slowly! flew,
The Fate of Acre ever in their view.
Her Spires at length spring up, her Domes arise,
Her green-roof'd Palm Groves glad their eager Eyes,
And, as they grandly ride upon the wave,
They shout — We come! We come again to save!
The Joy of Acre's heard where L EB'NON towers,
And C ARMEL hears it in her lofty bowers,
The Way of N AZARETH receives the sound,
They come! They come! we're safe! the Echoes breathe around.
All crowd the decks, with high Emotions glow!
From every eye inspiring ardors flow,
From prow to stern the emanations dart,
In each look flame and throb in every heart.
— I will not show the dazzling Naiad train
Guiding the barks across the foamy Main,
Poetic Images — away from Sight!
Nor Nymph nor Sea-God shall my pen invite.
No aiding Tritons with their azure hair
Nor pearl-deck'd guardian Deesses were there,
T HE S ONS OF B RITAIN ! on the surges rode,
From whom abash'd dives down each Watery God.
The french Approaches to the Wall came near,
The wants peculiar of the hour were clear.
The Plan's resolved, two Ravelins soon advance
Their bold half-moons against encroaching France,
One on each side th' approach that nearest came
In swift progression rose, midst loud acclaim.
The boats meanwhile a floating Battery form,
The Labourers cover, and the french Lines storm,
Their dread Artillery firing on the foe
From every point, as variously they row.
For Sortie now th' assured besieged prepare,
And spring with new strung nerves each risk to dare.
Throughout the day they rage o'er all the plain,
Havock and swift Destruction in their train.
As still, at eve, the carnage they pursue
The heaps of dead encrease upon their view,
On Chiefs, on numerous Ranks, the Victors trod,
The ardent M AILLY died upon the sod,
Both by one sword, C ARDAN , L ECOUVRE , died,
Their Hearts' blood flowing in a common tide.
Full oft L ESCALLE'S aim'd Sabre reach'd the heart
Of turban'd warrior, when his eye's clear dart
Ere singled from a troop an active foe
His glance was scarcely herald to the blow.
Helmet nor Sabre could the Hero save
Three foes at once assign him to his grave,
Half-rais'd, at one he aim'd a dying thrust,
His aim was short, he rose not from the dust!
— The Shrieks of Youth, the Groans of Manhood, tear
The shrinking organs e'en of distant ear,
As fall by turns the man, the hoary Sire,
Or he whose freezing veins own'd life's first fire.
With untired rage they fought till Light withdrew,
Each Army shelter'd from the other's view.
Dark shadows roll in heavy to the west,
Deep sigh the winds, all Nature seems oppressed.
Strange hollow Murmurs float the troubled air,
The moaning Spirits of the dead seem there!
In moody thought the different powers withdraw,
All deeply pondering the ills of war!
Now, midst the Chiefs, in Council in his tent,
The General Bonaparte his mind unbent,
Whilst the french circle, with respectful air,
Their mute attention by their looks declare.
Of flowing thought no brilliant periods roll
To wake thick sense and captivate the soul,
No mellow language glides on from his tongue
In clear deductions gradually unstrung,
Interrogation boisterous Order breaks,
Or words imperative he fiercely speaks!
— " Can I forget that he, whose haughty prow
Rides so triumphant in the harbour now,
Is he, in France, who lately prisoner caught
Of me asked Freedom, all my Influence sought!
Had I not fail'd him, Honour, his Parole,
Had kept his busy genius in controul —
Beaten by him whose Fate was at my will
And see his laurell'd sailors conquer still!
Shall thus this Seaman's fame so lofty soar,
The conquering Trident reach us — on the Shore!
Success gain'd now, it may not be the least,
More numerous troops may seek us in the East,
Demand Capitulation — hated word
It ne'er shall mar the Glories of my sword1 "
The Leader pausing, as o'er torturous thought,
In Fury mutter'd, lowly lest 'twere caught —
" First wil I fly — steal from th' Egytian shore,
Run from the army who my name adore,
Forsake my Station, risk Deserter's fate,
But, ne'er capitulate with those I hate!
Mark Generals! small his force, whilst Hassan Bey
At sea, with Transports, still prolongs his stay;
But, ere these distant succours can arrive,
Acre itself no longer shall survive,
Her walls but dust, her Towers shall strew the plain,
Her ruin'd Turrets toppled to the Main! "
The martial circle or approved aloud,
Or veiling discontent assentive bow'd.
He paused, he ponder'd as if Means he sought,
But quickly utter'd the result of thought —
" To Eastward sent, towards the Jordan's fords,
Bold K LEBER'S hardy troops with conquering swords
To capture rich Damascus now aspire,
But, from her yielding walls he must retire!
To aid, if wanted here, his glory yield,
And quit with all his bands the prosperous field —
Retire from conquest, and be beaten here!
Ah! brand me tather with the guilt of fear —
Beaten by him was at my feet,
Compared to this, each other nuin's sweet! "
He rose, as in his cheeks excited red
Disdain and Joy were seen, and Hope and Dread.
The Generals rush'd through night to rouse the band
Destined to summon Kleber o'er the land.
Not seen, through heard, their scour across the plain,
Whilst ears attentive sounding hoofs retain,
As neighing steeds, inhaling dewy air,
Athwart the gloom their drowsy riders bear.