Part 19 (1/2)
ELIZABETH COLLINS.
[Footnote 1: The pupils of the Polytechnic Military School distinguished themselves by their patriotic zeal and military skill, through all the troubles.]
TRIBUTE TO THE VANQUISHED.
_(”Laissez-moi pleurer sur cette race.”)_
[I. v.]
Oh! let me weep that race whose day is past, By exile given, by exile claimed once more, Thrice swept away upon that fatal blast.
Whate'er its blame, escort we to our sh.o.r.e These relics of the monarchy of yore; And to th' outmarching oriflamme be paid War's honors by the flag on Fleurus' field displayed!
_Fraser's Magazine_
ANGEL OR DEMON.
_(”Tu domines notre age; ange ou demon, qu'importe!”)_
[I. vii.]
Angel or demon! thou,--whether of light The minister, or darkness--still dost sway This age of ours; thine eagle's soaring flight Bears us, all breathless, after it away.
The eye that from thy presence fain would stray, Shuns thee in vain; thy mighty shadow thrown Rests on all pictures of the living day, And on the threshold of our time alone, Dazzling, yet sombre, stands thy form, Napoleon!
Thus, when the admiring stranger's steps explore The subject-lands that 'neath Vesuvius be, Whether he wind along the enchanting sh.o.r.e To Portici from fair Parthenope, Or, lingering long in dreamy reverie, O'er loveliest Ischia's od'rous isle he stray, Wooed by whose breath the soft and am'rous sea Seems like some languis.h.i.+ng sultana's lay, A voice for very sweets that scarce can win its way.
Him, whether Paestum's solemn fane detain, Shrouding his soul with meditation's power; Or at Pozzuoli, to the sprightly strain Of tarantella danced 'neath Tuscan tower, Listening, he while away the evening hour; Or wake the echoes, mournful, lone and deep, Of that sad city, in its dreaming bower By the volcano seized, where mansions keep The likeness which they wore at that last fatal sleep;
Or be his bark at Posillippo laid, While as the swarthy boatman at his side Chants Ta.s.so's lays to Virgil's pleased shade, Ever he sees, throughout that circuit wide, From shaded nook or sunny lawn espied, From rocky headland viewed, or flow'ry sh.o.r.e, From sea, and spreading mead alike descried, _The Giant Mount_, tow'ring all objects o'er, And black'ning with its breath th' horizon evermore!
_Fraser's Magazine_
THE ERUPTION OF VESUVIUS.
_(”Quand longtemps a gronde la bouche du Vesuve.”)_
[I. vii.]
When huge Vesuvius in its torment long, Threatening has growled its cavernous jaws among, When its hot lava, like the bubbling wine, Foaming doth all its monstrous edge incarnadine, Then is alarm in Naples.
With dismay, Wanton and wild her weeping thousands pour, Convulsive grasp the ground, its rage to stay, Implore the angry Mount--in vain implore!
For lo! a column tow'ring more and more, Of smoke and ashes from the burning crest Shoots like a vulture's neck reared from its airy nest.
Sudden a flash, and from th' enormous den Th' eruption's lurid ma.s.s bursts forth amain, Bounding in frantic ecstasy. Ah! then Farewell to Grecian fount and Tuscan fane!