The Siege of Corinth
- 1In the year since Jesus died for men,
- 2Eighteen hundred years and ten,
- 3We were a gallant company,
- 4Riding o'er land, and sailing o'er sea.
- 5Oh! but we went merrily!
- 6We forded the river, and clomb the high hill,
- 7Never our steeds for a day stood still;
- 8Whether we lay in the cave or the shed,
- 9Our sleep fell soft on the hardest bed;
- 10Whether we couched in our rough capote,
- 11On the rougher plank of our gliding boat,
- 12Or stretched on the beach, or our saddles spread,
- 13As a pillow beneath the resting head,
- 14Fresh we woke upon the morrow:
- 15All our thoughts and words had scope,
- 16We had health, and we had hope,
- 17Toil and travel, but no sorrow.
- 18We were of all tongues and creeds;--
- 19Some were those who counted beads,
- 20Some of mosque, and some of church,
- 21And some, or I mis-say, of neither;
- 22Yet through the wide world might ye search,
- 23Nor find a motlier crew nor blither.
- 24But some are dead, and some are gone,
- 25And some are scattered and alone,
- 26And some are rebels on the hills
- 27That look along Epirus' valleys,
- 28Where Freedom still at moments rallies,
- 29And pays in blood Oppression's ills;
- 30And some are in a far countree,
- 31And some all restlessly at home;
- 32But never more, oh! never, we
- 33Shall meet to revel and to roam.
- 34But those hardy days flew cheerily!
- 35And when they now fall drearily,
- 36My thoughts, like swallows, skim the main,
- 37And bear my spirit back again
- 38Over the earth, and through the air,
- 39A wild bird and a wanderer.
- 40'Tis this that ever wakes my strain,
- 41And oft, too oft, implores again
- 42The few who may endure my lay,
- 43To follow me so far away.
- 44Stranger, wilt thou follow now,
- 45And sit with me on Acro-Corinth's brow?
- 46Many a vanished year and age,
- 47And Tempest's breath, and Battle's rage,
- 48Have swept o'er Corinth; yet she stands,
- 49A fortress formed to Freedom's hands.
- 50The Whirlwind's wrath, the Earthquake's shock,
- 51Have left untouched her hoary
rock,
- 52The keystone of a land, which still,
- 53Though fall'n, looks proudly on that hill,
- 54The landmark to the double tide
- 55That purpling rolls on either side,
- 56As if their waters chafed to meet,
- 57Yet pause and crouch beneath her
feet.
- 58But could the blood before her
shed
- 59Since first Timoleon's brother bled,
- 60Or baffled Persia's despot fled,
- 61Arise from out the Earth which drank
- 62The stream of Slaughter as it sank,
- 63That sanguine Ocean would o'erflow
- 64Her isthmus idly spread
below:
- 65Or could the bones of all the slain,
- 66Who perished there, be piled again,
- 67That rival pyramid would rise
- 68More mountain-like, through those clear skies
- 69Than yon tower-capp'd Acropolis,
- 70Which seems the very clouds to kiss.
- 71On dun Cithæron's ridge appears
- 72The gleam of twice ten thousand spears;
- 73And downward to the Isthmian plain,
- 74From shore to shore of either main,
- 75The tent is pitched, the Crescent shines
- 76Along the Moslem's leaguering lines;
- 77And the dusk Spahi's bands advance
- 78Beneath each bearded Pacha's glance;
- 79And far and wide as eye can reach
- 80The turbaned cohorts throng the beach;
- 81And there the Arab's camel kneels,
- 82And there his steed the Tartar wheels;
- 83The Turcoman hath left his herd,
- 84The sabre round his loins to gird;
- 85And there the volleying thunders pour,
- 86Till waves grow smoother to the roar.
- 87The trench is dug, the cannon's breath
- 88Wings the far hissing globe of death;
- 89Fast whirl the fragments from the wall,
- 90Which crumbles with the ponderous ball;
- 91And from that wall the foe replies,
- 92O'er dusty plain and smoky skies,
- 93With fares that answer fast and well
- 94The summons of the Infidel.
- 95But near and nearest to the wall
- 96Of those who wish and work its fall,
- 97With deeper skill in War's black art,
- 98Than Othman's sons, and high of heart
- 99As any Chief that ever stood
- 100Triumphant in the fields of blood;
- 101From post to post, and deed to deed,
- 102Fast spurring on his reeking steed,
- 103Where sallying ranks the trench assail,
- 104And make the foremost Moslem quail;
- 105Or where the battery, guarded well,
- 106Remains as yet impregnable,
- 107Alighting cheerly to inspire
- 108The soldier slackening in his fire;
- 109The first and freshest of the host
- 110Which Stamboul's Sultan there can boast,
- 111To guide the follower o'er the field,
- 112To point the tube, the lance to wield,
- 113Or whirl around the bickering blade;--
- 114Was Alp, the Adrian renegade!
- 115From Venice--once a race of worth
- 116His gentle Sires--he drew his birth;
- 117But late an exile from her shore,
- 118Against his countrymen he bore
- 119The arms they taught to bear; and now
- 120The turban girt his shaven brow.
- 121Through many a change had Corinth passed
- 122With Greece to Venice' rule at last;
- 123And here, before her walls, with
those
- 124To Greece and Venice equal foes,
- 125He stood a foe, with all the zeal
- 126Which young and fiery converts feel,
- 127Within whose heated bosom throngs
- 128The memory of a thousand wrongs.
- 129To him had Venice ceased to be
- 130Her ancient civic boast--"the
Free;"
- 131And in the palace of St. Mark
- 132Unnamed accusers in the dark
- 133Within the "Lion's mouth" had placed
- 134A charge against him uneffaced:
- 135He fled in time, and saved his life,
- 136To waste his future years in strife,
- 137That taught his land how great her loss
- 138In him who triumphed o'er the Cross,
- 139'Gainst which he reared the Crescent high,
- 140And battled to avenge or die.
- 141Coumourgi --he whose closing scene
- 142Adorned the triumph of Eugene,
- 143When on Carlowitz' bloody plain,
- 144The last and mightiest of the slain,
- 145He sank, regretting not to die,
- 146But cursed the Christian's victory--
- 147Coumourgi--can his glory cease,
- 148That latest conqueror of Greece,
- 149Till Christian hands to Greece restore
- 150The freedom Venice gave of yore?
- 151A hundred years have rolled away
- 152Since he refixed the Moslem's sway;
- 153And now he led the Mussulman,
- 154And gave the guidance of the van
- 155To Alp, who well repaid the trust
- 156By cities levelled with the dust;
- 157And proved, by many a deed of death,
- 158How firm his heart in novel faith.
- 159The walls grew weak; and fast and hot
- 160Against them poured the ceaseless shot,
- 161With unabating fury sent
- 162From battery to battlement;
- 163And thunder-like the pealing din
- 164Rose from each heated culverin;
- 165And here and there some crackling dome
- 166Was fired before the exploding bomb;
- 167And as the fabric sank beneath
- 168The shattering shell's volcanic breath,
- 169In red and wreathing columns flashed
- 170The flame, as loud the ruin crashed,
- 171Or into countless meteors driven,
- 172Its earth-stars melted into heaven;
- 173Whose clouds that day grew doubly dun,
- 174Impervious to the hidden sun,
- 175With volumed smoke that slowly grew
- 176To one wide sky of sulphurous hue.
- 177But not for vengeance, long delayed,
- 178Alone, did Alp, the renegade,
- 179The Moslem warriors sternly teach
- 180His skill to pierce the promised breach:
- 181Within these walls a Maid was pent
- 182His hope would win, without consent
- 183Of that inexorable Sire,
- 184Whose heart refused him in its ire,
- 185When Alp, beneath his Christian name,
- 186Her virgin hand aspired to claim.
- 187In happier mood, and earlier time,
- 188While unimpeached for traitorous crime,
- 189Gayest in Gondola or Hall,
- 190He glittered through the Carnival;
- 191And tuned the softest serenade
- 192That e'er on Adria's waters played
- 193At midnight to Italian maid.
- 194And many deemed her heart was won;
- 195For sought by numbers, given to none,
- 196Had young Francesca's hand remained
- 197Still by the Church's bonds unchained:
- 198And when the Adriatic bore
- 199Lanciotto to the Paynim shore,
- 200Her wonted smiles were seen to fail,
- 201And pensive waxed the maid and pale;
- 202More constant at confessional,
- 203More rare at masque and festival;
- 204Or seen at such, with downcast eyes,
- 205Which conquered hearts they ceased to prize:
- 206With listless look she seems to gaze:
- 207With humbler care her form arrays;
- 208Her voice less lively in the song;
- 209Her step, though light, less fleet among
- 210The pairs, on whom the Morning's glance
- 211Breaks, yet unsated with the dance.
- 212Sent by the State to guard the land,
- 213(Which, wrested from the Moslem's hand,
- 214While Sobieski tamed his pride
- 215By Buda's wall and Danube's side,
- 216The chiefs of Venice wrung away
- 217From Patra to Euboea's bay,)
- 218Minotti held in Corinth's towers
- 219The Doge's delegated powers,
- 220While yet the pitying eye of Peace
- 221Smiled o'er her long forgotten Greece:
- 222And ere that faithless truce was broke
- 223Which freed her from the unchristian
yoke,
- 224With him his gentle daughter came;
- 225Nor there, since Menelaus' dame
- 226Forsook her lord and land, to prove
- 227What woes await on lawless love,
- 228Had fairer form adorned the shore
- 229Than she, the matchless stranger, bore.
- 230The wall is rent, the ruins yawn;
- 231And, with to-morrow's earliest dawn,
- 232O'er the disjointed mass shall vault
- 233The foremost of the fierce assault.
- 234The bands are ranked--the chosen van
- 235Of Tartar and of Mussulman,
- 236The full of hope, misnamed "forlorn,"
- 237Who hold the thought of death in scorn,
- 238And win their way with falchion's force,
- 239Or pave the path with many a corse,
- 240O'er which the following brave may rise,
- 241Their stepping-stone--the last who dies!
- 242'Tis midnight: on the mountains brown
- 243The cold, round moon shines deeply down;
- 244Blue roll the waters, blue the sky
- 245Spreads like an ocean hung on high,
- 246Bespangled with those isles of light,
- 247So wildly, spiritually bright;
- 248Who ever gazed upon them shining
- 249And turned to earth without repining,
- 250Nor wished for wings to flee away,
- 251And mix with their eternal ray?
- 252The waves on either shore lay there
- 253Calm, clear, and azure as the air;
- 254And scarce their foam the pebbles shook,
- 255But murmured meekly as the brook.
- 256The winds were pillowed on the waves;
- 257The banners drooped along their staves,
- 258And, as they fell around them furling,
- 259Above them shone the crescent curling;
- 260And that deep silence was unbroke,
- 261Save where the watch his signal spoke,
- 262Save where the steed neighed oft and shrill,
- 263And echo answered from the hill,
- 264And the wide hum of that wild host
- 265Rustled like leaves from coast to coast,
- 266As rose the Muezzin's voice in air
- 267In midnight call to wonted prayer;
- 268It rose, that chanted mournful strain,
- 269Like some lone Spirit's o'er the plain:
- 270'Twas musical, but sadly sweet,
- 271Such as when winds and harp-strings meet,
- 272And take a long unmeasured tone,
- 273To mortal minstrelsy unknown.
- 274It seemed to those within the wall
- 275A cry prophetic of their fall:
- 276It struck even the besieger's ear
- 277With something ominous and drear,
- 278An undefined and sudden thrill,
- 279Which makes the heart a moment still,
- 280Then beat with quicker pulse, ashamed
- 281Of that strange sense its silence framed;
- 282Such as a sudden passing-bell
- 283Wakes, though but for a stranger's knell.
- 284The tent of Alp was on the shore;
- 285The sound was hushed, the prayer was o'er;
- 286The watch was set, the night-round made,
- 287All mandates issued and obeyed:
- 288'Tis but another anxious night,
- 289His pains the morrow may requite
- 290With all Revenge and Love can pay,
- 291In guerdon for their long delay.
- 292Few hours remain, and he hath need
- 293Of rest, to nerve for many a deed
- 294Of slaughter; but within his soul
- 295The thoughts like troubled waters roll.
- 296He stood alone among the host;
- 297Not his the loud fanatic boast
- 298To plant the Crescent o'er the Cross,
- 299Or risk a life with little loss,
- 300Secure in paradise to be
- 301By Houris loved immortally:
- 302Nor his, what burning patriots feel,
- 303The stern exaltedness of zeal,
- 304Profuse of blood, untired in toil,
- 305When battling on the parent soil.
- 306He stood alone--a renegade
- 307Against the country he betrayed;
- 308He stood alone amidst his band,
- 309Without a trusted heart or hand:
- 310They followed him, for he was brave,
- 311And great the spoil he got and gave;
- 312They crouched to him, for he had skill
- 313To warp and wield the vulgar will:
- 314But still his Christian origin
- 315With them was little less than sin.
- 316They envied even the faithless fame
- 317He earned beneath a Moslem name;
- 318Since he, their mightiest chief, had been
- 319In youth a bitter Nazarene.
- 320They did not know how Pride can stoop,
- 321When baffled feelings withering droop;
- 322They did not know how Hate can burn
- 323In hearts once changed from soft to stern;
- 324Nor all the false and fatal zeal
- 325The convert of Revenge can feel.
- 326He ruled them--man may rule the worst,
- 327By ever daring to be first:
- 328So lions o'er the jackals sway;
- 329The jackal points, he fells the prey,
- 330Then on the vulgar, yelling, press,
- 331To gorge the relics of success.
- 332His head grows fevered, and his pulse
- 333The quick successive throbs convulse;
- 334In vain from side to side he throws
- 335His form, in courtship of repose;
- 336Or if he dozed, a sound, a start
- 337Awoke him with a sunken heart.
- 338The turban on his hot brow pressed,
- 339The mail weighed lead-like on his breast,
- 340Though oft and long beneath its weight
- 341Upon his eyes had slumber sate,
- 342Without or couch or canopy,
- 343Except a rougher field and sky
- 344Than now might yield a warrior's bed,
- 345Than now along the heaven was spread.
- 346He could not rest, he could not stay
- 347Within his tent to wait for day,
- 348But walked him forth along the sand,
- 349Where thousand sleepers strewed the strand.
- 350What pillowed them? and why should he
- 351More wakeful than the humblest be,
- 352Since more their peril, worse their toil?
- 353And yet they fearless dream of spoil;
- 354While he alone, where thousands passed
- 355A night of sleep, perchance their last,
- 356In sickly vigil wandered on,
- 357And envied all he gazed upon.
- 358He felt his soul become more light
- 359Beneath the freshness of the night.
- 360Cool was the silent sky, though calm,
- 361And bathed his brow with airy balm:
- 362Behind, the camp--before him lay,
- 363In many a winding creek and bay,
- 364Lepanto's gulf; and, on the brow
- 365Of Delphi's hill, unshaken snow,
- 366High and eternal, such as shone
- 367Through thousand summers brightly gone,
- 368Along the gulf, the mount, the clime;
- 369It will not melt, like man, to time:
- 370Tyrant and slave are swept away,
- 371Less formed to wear before the ray;
- 372But that white veil, the lightest, frailest,
- 373Which on the mighty mount thou hailest,
- 374While tower and tree are torn and rent,
- 375Shines o'er its craggy battlement;
- 376In form a peak, in height a cloud,
- 377In texture like a hovering shroud,
- 378Thus high by parting Freedom spread,
- 379As from her fond abode she fled,
- 380And lingered on the spot, where long
- 381Her prophet spirit spake in
song.
- 382Oh! still her step at moments
falters
- 383O'er withered fields, and ruined altars,
- 384And fain would wake, in souls too broken,
- 385By pointing to each glorious token:
- 386But vain her voice, till better
days
- 387Dawn in those yet remembered rays,
- 388Which shone upon the Persian flying,
- 389And saw the Spartan smile in dying.
- 390Not mindless of these mighty times
- 391Was Alp, despite his flight and crimes;
- 392And through this night, as on he wandered,
- 393And o'er the past and present pondered,
- 394And thought upon the glorious dead
- 395Who there in better cause had bled,
- 396He felt how faint and feebly dim
- 397The fame that could accrue to him,
- 398Who cheered the band, and waved the sword,
- 399A traitor in a turbaned horde;
- 400And led them to the lawless siege,
- 401Whose best success were sacrilege.
- 402Not so had those his fancy numbered,
- 403The chiefs whose dust around him slumbered;
- 404Their phalanx marshalled on the plain,
- 405Whose bulwarks were not then in vain.
- 406They fell devoted, but undying;
- 407The very gale their names seemed sighing;
- 408The waters murmured of their name;
- 409The woods were peopled with their fame;
- 410The silent pillar, lone and grey,
- 411Claimed kindred with their sacred clay;
- 412Their spirits wrapped the dusky mountain,
- 413Their memory sparkled o'er the fountain;
- 414The meanest rill, the mightiest river
- 415Rolled mingling with their fame for ever.
- 416Despite of every yoke she bears,
- 417That land is Glory's still and theirs!
- 418'Tis still a watch-word to the earth:
- 419When man would do a deed of worth
- 420He points to Greece, and turns to tread,
- 421So sanctioned, on the tyrant's head:
- 422He looks to her, and rushes on
- 423Where life is lost, or Freedom won.
- 424Still by the shore Alp mutely mused,
- 425And wooed the freshness Night diffused.
- 426There shrinks no ebb in that tideless sea,
- 427Which changeless rolls eternally;
- 428So that wildest of waves, in their angriest mood,
- 429Scarce break on the bounds of the land for a rood;
- 430And the powerless moon beholds them flow,
- 431Heedless if she come or go:
- 432Calm or high, in main or bay,
- 433On their course she hath no sway.
- 434The rock unworn its base doth bare,
- 435And looks o'er the surf, but it comes not there;
- 436And the fringe of the foam may be seen below,
- 437On the line that it left long ages ago:
- 438A smooth short space of yellow sand
- 439Between it and the greener land.
- 440He wandered on along the beach,
- 441Till within the range of a carbine's reach
- 442Of the leaguered wall; but they saw him not,
- 443Or how could he 'scape from the hostile shot?
- 444Did traitors lurk in the Christians' hold?
- 445Were their hands grown stiff, or their hearts waxed cold?
- 446I know not, in sooth; but from yonder wall
- 447There flashed no fire, and there hissed no ball,
- 448Though he stood beneath the bastion's frown,
- 449That flanked the seaward gate of the town;
- 450Though he heard the sound, and could almost tell
- 451The sullen words of the sentinel,
- 452As his measured step on the stone below
- 453Clanked, as he paced it to and fro;
- 454And he saw the lean dogs beneath the wall
- 455Hold o'er the dead their Carnival,
- 456Gorging and growling o'er carcass and limb;
- 457They were too busy to bark at him!
- 458From a Tartar's skull they had stripped the flesh,
- 459As ye peel the fig when its fruit is fresh;
- 460And their white tusks crunched o'er the whiter skull,
- 461As it slipped through their jaws, when their edge grew dull,
- 462As they lazily mumbled the bones of the dead,
- 463When they scarce could rise from the spot where they fed;
- 464So well had they broken a lingering fast
- 465With those who had fallen for that night's repast.
- 466And Alp knew, by the turbans that rolled on the sand,
- 467The foremost of these were the best of his band:
- 468Crimson and green were the shawls of their wear,
- 469And each scalp had a single long tuft of hair,
- 470All the rest was shaven and bare.
- 471The scalps were in the wild dog's maw,
- 472The hair was tangled round his jaw:
- 473But close by the shore, on the edge of the gulf,
- 474There sat a vulture flapping a wolf,
- 475Who had stolen from the hills, but kept away,
- 476Scared by the dogs, from the human prey;
- 477But he seized on his share of a steed that lay,
- 478Picked by the birds, on the sands of the bay.
- 479Alp turned him from the sickening sight:
- 480Never had shaken his nerves in fight;
- 481But he better could brook to behold the dying,
- 482Deep in the tide of their warm blood lying,
- 483Scorched with the death-thirst, and writhing in vain,
- 484Than the perishing dead who are past all pain.
- 485There is something of pride in the perilous hour,
- 486Whate'er be the shape in which Death may lower;
- 487For Fame is there to say who bleeds,
- 488And Honour's eye on daring deeds!
- 489But when all is past, it is humbling to tread
- 490O'er the weltering field of the tombless dead,
- 491And see worms of the earth, and fowls of the air,
- 492Beasts of the forest, all gathering there;
- 493All regarding man as their prey,
- 494All rejoicing in his decay.
- 495There is a temple in ruin stands,
- 496Fashioned by long forgotten hands;
- 497Two or three columns, and many a stone,
- 498Marble and granite, with grass o'ergrown!
- 499Out upon Time! it will leave no more
- 500Of the things to come than the things before!
- 501Out upon Time! who for ever will leave
- 502But enough of the past for the future to grieve
- 503O'er that which hath been, and o'er that which must be:
- 504What we have seen, our sons shall see;
- 505Remnants of things that have passed away,
- 506Fragments of stone, reared by creatures of clay!
- 507He sate him down at a pillar's base,
- 508And passed his hand athwart his face;
- 509Like one in dreary musing mood,
- 510Declining was his attitude;
- 511His head was drooping on his breast,
- 512Fevered, throbbing, and oppressed;
- 513And o'er his brow, so downward bent,
- 514Oft his beating fingers went,
- 515Hurriedly, as you may see
- 516Your own run over the ivory key,
- 517Ere the measured tone is taken
- 518By the chords you would awaken.
- 519There he sate all heavily,
- 520As he heard the night-wind sigh.
- 521Was it the wind through some hollow stone,
- 522Sent that soft and tender moan?
- 523He lifted his head, and he looked on the sea,
- 524But it was unrippled as glass may be;
- 525He looked on the long grass--it waved not a blade;
- 526How was that gentle sound conveyed?
- 527He looked to the banners--each flag lay still,
- 528So did the leaves on Cithæron's hill,
- 529And he felt not a breath come over his cheek;
- 530What did that sudden sound bespeak?
- 531He turned to the left--is he sure of sight?
- 532There sate a lady, youthful and bright!
- 533He started up with more of fear
- 534Than if an arméd foe were near.
- 535"God of my fathers! what is here?
- 536Who art thou? and wherefore sent
- 537So near a hostile armament?"
- 538His trembling hands refused to sign
- 539The cross he deemed no more divine:
- 540He had resumed it in that hour,
- 541But Conscience wrung away the power.
- 542He gazed, he saw; he knew the face
- 543Of beauty, and the form of grace;
- 544It was Francesca by his side,
- 545The maid who might have been his bride!
- 546The rose was yet upon her cheek,
- 547But mellowed with a tenderer streak:
- 548Where was the play of her soft lips fled?
- 549Gone was the smile that enlivened their red.
- 550The Ocean's calm within their view,
- 551Beside her eye had less of blue;
- 552But like that cold wave it stood still,
- 553And its glance, though clear, was chill.
- 554Around her form a thin robe twining,
- 555Nought concealed her bosom shining;
- 556Through the parting of her hair,
- 557Floating darkly downward there,
- 558Her rounded arm showed white and bare:
- 559And ere yet she made reply,
- 560Once she raised her hand on high;
- 561It was so wan, and transparent of hue,
- 562You might have seen the moon shine through.
- 563"I come from my rest to him I love best,
- 564That I may be happy, and he may be blessed.
- 565I have passed the guards, the gate, the wall;
- 566Sought thee in safety through foes and all.
- 567'Tis said the lion will turn and flee
- 568From a maid in the pride of her purity;
- 569And the Power on high, that can shield the good
- 570Thus from the tyrant of the wood,
- 571Hath extended its mercy to guard me as well
- 572From the hands of the leaguering Infidel.
- 573I come--and if I come in vain,
- 574Never, oh never, we meet again!
- 575Thou hast done a fearful deed
- 576In falling away from thy fathers' creed:
- 577But dash that turban to earth, and sign
- 578The sign of the cross, and for ever be mine;
- 579Wring the black drop from thy heart,
- 580And to-morrow unites us no more to part."
- 581"And where should our bridal couch be spread?
- 582In the midst of the dying and the dead?
- 583For to-morrow we give to the slaughter and flame
- 584The sons and the shrines of the Christian name.
- 585None, save thou and thine, I've sworn,
- 586Shall be left upon the morn:
- 587But thee will I bear to a lovely spot,
- 588Where our hands shall be joined, and our sorrow forgot.
- 589There thou yet shall be my bride,
- 590When once again I've quelled the pride
- 591Of Venice; and her hated race
- 592Have felt the arm they would debase
- 593Scourge, with a whip of scorpions, those
- 594Whom Vice and Envy made my foes."
- 595Upon his hand she laid her own--
- 596Light was the touch, but it thrilled to the bone,
- 597And shot a chillness to his heart,
- 598Which fixed him beyond the power to start.
- 599Though slight was that grasp so mortal cold,
- 600He could not loose him from its hold;
- 601But never did clasp of one so dear
- 602Strike on the pulse with such feeling of fear,
- 603As those thin fingers, long and white,
- 604Froze through his blood by their touch that night.
- 605The feverish glow of his brow was gone,
- 606And his heart sank so still that it felt like stone,
- 607As he looked on the face, and beheld its hue,
- 608So deeply changed from what he knew:
- 609Fair but faint--without the ray
- 610Of mind, that made each feature play
- 611Like sparkling waves on a sunny day;
- 612And her motionless lips lay still as death,
- 613And her words came forth without her breath,
- 614And there rose not a heave o'er her bosom's swell,
- 615And there seemed not a pulse in her veins to dwell.
- 616Though her eye shone out, yet the lids were fixed,
- 617And the glance that it gave was wild and unmixed
- 618With aught of change, as the eyes may seem
- 619Of the restless who walk in a troubled dream;
- 620Like the figures on arras, that gloomily glare,
- 621Stirred by the breath of the wintry air
- 622So seen by the dying lamp's fitful light,
- 623Lifeless, but life-like, and awful to sight;
- 624As they seem, through the dimness, about to come down
- 625From the shadowy wall where their images frown;
- 626Fearfully flitting to and fro,
- 627As the gusts on the tapestry come and go.
- 628"If not for love of me be given
- 629Thus much, then, for the love of Heaven,--
- 630Again I say--that turban tear
- 631From off thy faithless brow, and swear
- 632Thine injured country's sons to spare,
- 633Or thou art lost; and never shalt see--
- 634Not earth--that's past--but Heaven or me.
- 635If this thou dost accord, albeit
- 636A heavy doom' tis thine to meet,
- 637That doom shall half absolve thy sin,
- 638And Mercy's gate may receive thee within:
- 639But pause one moment more, and take
- 640The curse of Him thou didst forsake;
- 641And look once more to Heaven, and see
- 642Its love for ever shut from thee.
- 643There is a light cloud by the moon--
- 644'Tis passing, and will pass full soon--
- 645If, by the time its vapoury sail
- 646Hath ceased her shaded orb to veil,
- 647Thy heart within thee is not changed,
- 648Then God and man are both avenged;
- 649Dark will thy doom be, darker still
- 650Thine immortality of ill."
- 651Alp looked to heaven, and saw on high
- 652The sign she spake of in the sky;
- 653But his heart was swollen, and turned aside,
- 654By deep interminable pride.
- 655This first false passion of his breast
- 656Rolled like a torrent o'er the rest.
- 657He sue for mercy! He dismayed
- 658By wild words of a timid maid!
- 659He, wronged by Venice, vow to save
- 660Her sons, devoted to the grave!
- 661No--though that cloud were thunder's worst,
- 662And charged to crush him--let it burst!
- 663He looked upon it earnestly,
- 664Without an accent of reply;
- 665He watched it passing; it is flown:
- 666Full on his eye the clear moon shone,
- 667And thus he spake--"Whate'er my fate,
- 668I am no changeling--'tis too late:
- 669The reed in storms may bow and quiver,
- 670Then rise again; the tree must shiver.
- 671What Venice made me, I must be,
- 672Her foe in all, save love to thee:
- 673But thou art safe: oh, fly with me!"
- 674He turned, but she is gone!
- 675Nothing is there but the column stone.
- 676Hath she sunk in the earth, or melted in air?
- 677He saw not--he knew not--but nothing is there.
- 678The night is past, and shines the sun
- 679As if that morn were a jocund one.
- 680Lightly and brightly breaks away
- 681The Morning from her mantle grey,
- 682And the Noon will look on a sultry day.
- 683Hark to the trump, and the drum,
- 684And the mournful sound of the barbarous horn,
- 685And the flap of the banners, that flit as they're borne,
- 686And the neigh of the steed, and the multitude's hum,
- 687And the clash, and the shout, "They come! they come!"
- 688The horsetails are plucked from the ground, and the sword
- 689From its sheath; and they form, and but wait for the word.
- 690Tartar, and Spahi, and Turcoman,
- 691Strike your tents, and throng to the van;
- 692Mount ye, spur ye, skirr the plain,
- 693That the fugitive may flee in vain,
- 694When he breaks from the town; and none escape,
- 695Agéd or young, in the Christian shape;
- 696While your fellows on foot, in a fiery mass,
- 697Bloodstain the breach through which they pass.
- 698The steeds are all bridled, and snort to the rein;
- 699Curved is each neck, and flowing each mane;
- 700White is the foam of their champ on the bit;
- 701The spears are uplifted; the matches are lit;
- 702The cannon are pointed, and ready to roar,
- 703And crush the wall they have crumbled before:
- 704Forms in his phalanx each Janizar;
- 705Alp at their head; his right arm is bare,
- 706So is the blade of his scimitar;
- 707The Khan and the Pachas are all at their post;
- 708The Vizier himself at the head of the host.
- 709When the culverin's signal is fired, then on;
- 710Leave not in Corinth a living one--
- 711A priest at her altars, a chief in
her halls,
- 712A hearth in her mansions, a stone on
her walls.
- 713God and the prophet--Alla Hu!
- 714Up to the skies with that wild halloo!
- 715"There the breach lies for passage, the ladder to scale;
- 716And your hands on your sabres, and how should ye fail?
- 717He who first downs with the red cross may crave
- 718His heart's dearest wish; let him ask it, and have!"
- 719Thus uttered Coumourgi, the dauntless Vizier;
- 720The reply was the brandish of sabre and spear,
- 721And the shout of fierce thousands in joyous ire:--
- 722Silence--hark to the signal--fire!
- 723As the wolves, that headlong go
- 724On the stately buffalo,
- 725Though with fiery eyes, and angry roar,
- 726And hoofs that stamp, and horns that gore,
- 727He tramples on earth, or tosses on high
- 728The foremost, who rush on his strength but to die
- 729Thus against the wall they went,
- 730Thus the first were backward bent;
- 731Many a bosom, sheathed in brass,
- 732Strewed the earth like broken glass,
- 733Shivered by the shot, that tore
- 734The ground whereon they moved no more:
- 735Even as they fell, in files they lay,
- 736Like the mower's grass at the close of day,
- 737When his work is done on the levelled plain;
- 738Such was the fall of the foremost slain.
- 739As the spring-tides, with heavy plash,
- 740From the cliffs invading dash
- 741Huge fragments, sapped by the ceaseless flow,
- 742Till white and thundering down they go,
- 743Like the avalanche's snow
- 744On the Alpine vales below;
- 745Thus at length, outbreathed and worn,
- 746Corinth's sons were downward borne
- 747By the long and oft renewed
- 748Charge of the Moslem multitude.
- 749In firmness they stood, and in masses they fell,
- 750Heaped by the host of the Infidel,
- 751Hand to hand, and foot to foot:
- 752Nothing there, save Death, was mute;
- 753Stroke, and thrust, and flash, and cry
- 754For quarter, or for victory,
- 755Mingle there with the volleying thunder,
- 756Which makes the distant cities wonder
- 757How the sounding battle goes,
- 758If with them, or for their foes;
- 759If they must mourn, or may rejoice
- 760In that annihilating voice,
- 761Which pierces the deep hills through and through
- 762With an echo dread and new:
- 763You might have heard it, on that day,
- 764O'er Salamis and Megara;
- 765(We have heard the hearers say,)
- 766Even unto Piræus' bay.
- 767From the point of encountering blades to the hilt,
- 768Sabres and swords with blood were gilt;
- 769But the rampart is won, and the spoil begun,
- 770And all but the after carnage done.
- 771Shriller shrieks now mingling come
- 772From within the plundered dome:
- 773Hark to the haste of flying feet,
- 774That splash in the blood of the slippery street;
- 775But here and there, where 'vantage ground
- 776Against the foe may still be found,
- 777Desperate groups, of twelve or ten,
- 778Make a pause, and turn again--
- 779With banded backs against the wall,
- 780Fiercely stand, or fighting fall.
- 781There stood an old man--his hairs were white,
- 782But his veteran arm was full of might:
- 783So gallantly bore he the brunt of the fray,
- 784The dead before him, on that day,
- 785In a semicircle lay;
- 786Still he combated unwounded,
- 787Though retreating, unsurrounded.
- 788Many a scar of former fight
- 789Lurked beneath his corslet bright;
- 790But of every wound his body bore,
- 791Each and all had been ta'en before:
- 792Though agéd, he was so iron of limb,
- 793Few of our youth could cope with him,
- 794And the foes, whom he singly kept at bay,
- 795Outnumbered his thin hairs of silver grey.
- 796From right to left his sabre swept:
- 797Many an Othman mother wept
- 798Sons that were unborn, when dipped
- 799His weapon first in Moslem gore,
- 800Ere his years could count a score.
- 801Of all he might have been the sire
- 802Who fell that day beneath his ire:
- 803For, sonless left long years ago,
- 804His wrath made many a childless foe;
- 805And since the day, when in the strait
- 806His only boy had met his fate,
- 807His parent's iron hand did doom
- 808More than a human hecatomb.
- 809If shades by carnage be appeased,
- 810Patroclus' spirit less was pleased
- 811Than his, Minotti's son, who died
- 812Where Asia's bounds and ours divide.
- 813Buried he lay, where thousands before
- 814For thousands of years were inhumed on the shore;
- 815What of them is left, to tell
- 816Where they lie, and how they fell?
- 817Not a stone on their turf, nor a bone in their graves;
- 818But they live in the verse that immortally saves.
- 819Hark to the Allah shout! a band
- 820Of the Mussulman bravest and best is at hand;
- 821Their leader's nervous arm is bare,
- 822Swifter to smite, and never to spare--
- 823Unclothed to the shoulder it waves them on;
- 824Thus in the fight is he ever known:
- 825Others a gaudier garb may show,
- 826To tempt the spoil of the greedy foe;
- 827Many a hand's on a richer hilt,
- 828But none on a steel more ruddily gilt;
- 829Many a loftier turban may wear,--
- 830Alp is but known by the white arm bare;
- 831Look through the thick of the fight,'tis there!
- 832There is not a standard on that shore
- 833So well advanced the ranks before;
- 834There is not a banner in Moslem war
- 835Will lure the Delhis half so far;
- 836It glances like a falling star!
- 837Where'er that mighty arm is seen,
- 838The bravest be, or late have been;
- 839There the craven cries for quarter
- 840Vainly to the vengeful Tartar;
- 841Or the hero, silent lying,
- 842Scorns to yield a groan in dying;
- 843Mustering his last feeble blow
- 844'Gainst the nearest levelled foe,
- 845Though faint beneath the mutual wound,
- 846Grappling on the gory ground.
- 847Still the old man stood erect.
- 848And Alp's career a moment checked.
- 849"Yield thee, Minotti; quarter take,
- 850For thine own, thy daughter's sake."
- 851"Never, Renegado, never!
- 852Though the life of thy gift would last for ever."
- 853"Francesca!--Oh, my promised bride!
- 854Must she too perish by thy pride!"
- 855"She is safe."--"Where? where?"--"In Heaven;
- 856From whence thy traitor soul is driven--
- 857Far from thee, and undefiled."
- 858Grimly then Minotti smiled,
- 859As he saw Alp staggering bow
- 860Before his words, as with a blow.
- 861"Oh God! when died she?"--"Yesternight--
- 862Nor weep I for her spirit's flight:
- 863None of my pure race shall be
- 864Slaves to Mahomet and thee--
- 865Come on!"--That challenge is in vain--
- 866Alp's already with the slain!
- 867While Minotti's words were wreaking
- 868More revenge in bitter speaking
- 869Than his falchion's point had found,
- 870Had the time allowed to wound,
- 871From within the neighbouring porch
- 872Of a long defended church,
- 873Where the last and desperate few
- 874Would the failing fight renew,
- 875The sharp shot dashed Alp to the ground;
- 876Ere an eye could view the wound
- 877That crashed through the brain of the infidel,
- 878Round he spun, and down he fell;
- 879A flash like fire within his eyes
- 880Blazed, as he bent no more to rise,
- 881And then eternal darkness sunk
- 882Through all the palpitating trunk;
- 883Nought of life left, save a quivering
- 884Where his limbs were slightly shivering:
- 885They turned him on his back; his breast
- 886And brow were stained with gore and dust,
- 887And through his lips the life-blood oozed,
- 888From its deep veins lately loosed;
- 889But in his pulse there was no throb,
- 890Nor on his lips one dying sob;
- 891Sigh, nor word, nor struggling breath
- 892Heralded his way to death:
- 893Ere his very thought could pray,
- 894Unaneled he passed away,
- 895Without a hope from Mercy's aid,--
- 896To the last a Renegade.
- 897Fearfully the yell arose
- 898Of his followers, and his foes;
- 899These in joy, in fury those:
- 900Then again in conflict mixing,
- 901Clashing swords, and spears transfixing,
- 902Interchanged the blow and thrust,
- 903Hurling warriors in the dust.
- 904Street by street, and foot by foot,
- 905Still Minotti dares dispute
- 906The latest portion of the land
- 907Left beneath his high command;
- 908With him, aiding heart and hand,
- 909The remnant of his gallant band.
- 910Still the church is tenable,
- 911Whence issued late the fated ball
- 912That half avenged the city's fall,
- 913When Alp, her fierce assailant,
fell:
- 914Thither bending sternly back,
- 915They leave before a bloody track;
- 916And, with their faces to the foe,
- 917Dealing wounds with every blow,
- 918The chief, and his retreating train,
- 919Join to those within the fane;
- 920There they yet may breathe awhile,
- 921Sheltered by the massy pile.
- 922Brief breathing-time! the turbaned host,
- 923With added ranks and raging boast,
- 924Press onwards with such strength and heat,
- 925Their numbers balk their own retreat;
- 926For narrow the way that led to the spot
- 927Where still the Christians yielded not;
- 928And the foremost, if fearful, may vainly try
- 929Through the massy column to turn and fly;
- 930They perforce must do or die.
- 931They die; but ere their eyes could close,
- 932Avengers o'er their bodies rose;
- 933Fresh and furious, fast they fill
- 934The ranks unthinned, though slaughtered still;
- 935And faint the weary Christians wax
- 936Before the still renewed attacks:
- 937And now the Othmans gain the gate;
- 938Still resists its iron weight,
- 939And still, all deadly aimed and hot,
- 940From every crevice comes the shot;
- 941From every shattered window pour
- 942The volleys of the sulphurous shower:
- 943But the portal wavering grows and weak--
- 944The iron yields, the hinges creak--
- 945It bends--it falls--and all is o'er;
- 946Lost Corinth may resist no more!
- 947Darkly, sternly, and all alone,
- 948Minotti stood o'er the altar stone:
- 949Madonna's face upon him shone,
- 950Painted in heavenly hues above,
- 951With eyes of light and looks of love;
- 952And placed upon that holy shrine
- 953To fix our thoughts on things divine,
- 954When pictured there, we kneeling see
- 955Her, and the boy-God on her knee,
- 956Smiling sweetly on each prayer
- 957To Heaven, as if to waft it there.
- 958Still she smiled; even now she smiles,
- 959Though slaughter streams along her aisles:
- 960Minotti lifted his agéd eye,
- 961And made the sign of a cross with a sigh,
- 962Then seized a torch which blazed thereby;
- 963And still he stood, while with steel and flame,
- 964Inward and onward the Mussulman came.
- 965The vaults beneath the mosaic stone
- 966Contained the dead of ages gone;
- 967Their names were on the graven floor,
- 968But now illegible with gore;
- 969The carvéd crests, and curious hues
- 970The varied marble's veins diffuse,
- 971Were smeared, and slippery--stained, and strown
- 972With broken swords, and helms o'erthrown:
- 973There were dead above, and the dead below
- 974Lay cold in many a coffined row;
- 975You might see them piled in sable state,
- 976By a pale light through a gloomy grate;
- 977But War had entered their dark caves,
- 978And stored along the vaulted graves
- 979Her sulphurous treasures, thickly spread
- 980In masses by the fleshless dead:
- 981Here, throughout the siege, had been
- 982The Christians' chiefest magazine;
- 983To these a late formed train now led,
- 984Minotti's last and stern resource
- 985Against the foe's o'erwhelming force.
- 986The foe came on, and few remain
- 987To strive, and those must strive in vain:
- 988For lack of further lives, to slake
- 989The thirst of vengeance now awake,
- 990With barbarous blows they gash the dead,
- 991And lop the already lifeless head,
- 992And fell the statues from their niche,
- 993And spoil the shrines of offerings rich,
- 994And from each other's rude hands wrest
- 995The silver vessels Saints had blessed.
- 996To the high altar on they go;
- 997Oh, but it made a glorious show!
- 998On its table still behold
- 999The cup of consecrated gold;
- 1000Massy and deep, a glittering prize,
- 1001Brightly it sparkles to plunderers' eyes:
- 1002That morn it held the holy wine,
- 1003Converted by Christ to his blood so divine,
- 1004Which his worshippers drank at the break of day,
- 1005To shrive their souls ere they joined in the fray.
- 1006Still a few drops within it lay;
- 1007And round the sacred table glow
- 1008Twelve lofty lamps, in splendid row,
- 1009From the purest metal cast;
- 1010A spoil--the richest, and the last.
- 1011So near they came, the nearest stretched
- 1012To grasp the spoil he almost reached
- 1013When old Minotti's hand
- 1014Touched with the torch the train--
- 1015'Tis fired!
- 1016Spire, vaults, the shrine, the spoil, the slain,
- 1017The turbaned victors, the Christian band,
- 1018All that of living or dead remain,
- 1019Hurled on high with the shivered fane,
- 1020In one wild roar expired!
- 1021The shattered town--the walls thrown down--
- 1022The waves a moment backward bent--
- 1023The hills that shake, although unrent,
- 1024As if an Earthquake passed--
- 1025The thousand shapeless things all driven
- 1026In cloud and flame athwart the heaven,
- 1027By that tremendous blast--
- 1028Proclaimed the desperate conflict o'er
- 1029On that too long afflicted shore:
- 1030Up to the sky like rockets go
- 1031All that mingled there below:
- 1032Many a tall and goodly man,
- 1033Scorched and shrivelled to a span,
- 1034When he fell to earth again
- 1035Like a cinder strewed the plain:
- 1036Down the ashes shower like rain;
- 1037Some fell in the gulf, which received the sprinkles
- 1038With a thousand circling wrinkles;
- 1039Some fell on the shore, but, far away,
- 1040Scattered o'er the isthmus lay;
- 1041Christian or Moslem, which be they?
- 1042Let their mothers see and say!
- 1043When in cradled rest they lay,
- 1044And each nursing mother smiled
- 1045On the sweet sleep of her child,
- 1046Little deemed she such a day
- 1047Would rend those tender limbs away.
- 1048Not the matrons that them bore
- 1049Could discern their offspring more;
- 1050That one moment left no trace
- 1051More of human form or face
- 1052Save a scattered scalp or bone:
- 1053And down came blazing rafters, strown
- 1054Around, and many a falling stone,
- 1055Deeply dinted in the clay,
- 1056All blackened there and reeking lay.
- 1057All the living things that heard
- 1058The deadly earth-shock disappeared:
- 1059The wild birds flew; the wild dogs fled,
- 1060And howling left the unburied dead;
- 1061The camels from their keepers broke;
- 1062The distant steer forsook the yoke--
- 1063The nearer steed plunged o'er the plain,
- 1064And burst his girth, and tore his rein;
- 1065The bull-frog's note, from out the marsh,
- 1066Deep-mouthed arose, and doubly harsh;
- 1067The wolves yelled on the caverned hill
- 1068Where Echo rolled in thunder still;
- 1069The jackal's troop, in gathered cry,
- 1070Bayed from afar complainingly,
- 1071With a mixed and mournful sound,
- 1072Like crying babe, and beaten hound:
- 1073With sudden wing, and ruffled breast,
- 1074The eagle left his rocky nest,
- 1075And mounted nearer to the sun,
- 1076The clouds beneath him seemed so dun;
- 1077Their smoke assailed his startled beak,
- 1078And made him higher soar and shriek--
- 1079Thus was Corinth lost and won!