Dactylic Hexameter: 1: Heroic


Bard of the bright Chian isle, from snow-crowned Olympus descending,
Come to my spirit at night, thy own full ecstasy lending:
Bear me away through thy world, still with youth's first energy glowing;
Still with the great and the fair in wide effusion o'erflowing.

Other creations may fade, to shapeless ruin decaying:
Over the world of thy song, youth's earliest dawn is still playing.
Long the tall turrets of Troy have perished, by centuries riven, —
Still at thy bidding they rise, untouched and immortal, to heaven.

Still rise her sons in their might, dark plumes o'er their helmets wide waving, —
Armed for their altars and homes, the god and the warrior braving.
Hector still burns in the fight, awhile the wild torrent controlling;
Then, like the thunderer's, in wrath, the car of Achilles is rolling.

Ever new forms, at thy touch, to life and to beauty are starting; —
Helen still wins with her smile; Andromache trembles at parting;
Lone sits the hero apart, by the shore of the sea wide resounding;
Light o'er the high purple wave the fair-freighted vessel is bounding.

Still through the darkness of night the grief-stricken monarch is stealing,
Falls at the feet of his foe, and melts him to tenderest feeling.
Nature! thy power is supreme; no proud-hearted victor can sway thee;
When thy soft whisper is heard, the strong and the mighty obey thee.
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