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(From The Spirit of Discovery by Sea)
IT was thine, | |
| Immortal son of Macedon! to hang | |
| In the high fane of maritime renown | |
| The fairest trophies of thy fame, and shine, | |
| Then only like a god, when thy great mind | 5 |
| Swayed in its master council the deep tide | |
| Of things, predestining the eventful roll | |
| Of commerce, and uniting either world, | |
| Europe and Asia, in thy vast design. | |
| ’T was when the victor, in his proud career, | 10 |
| O’er ravaged Hindostan, had now advanced | |
| Beyond Hydaspes; on the flowery banks | |
| Of Hyphasis, with banners thronged, his camp | |
| Was spread. On high he bade the altars rise, | |
| The awful records to succeeding years | 15 |
| Of his long march of glory, and to point | |
| The spot where, like the thunder rolled away, | |
| His army paused. Now shady eve came down; | |
| The trumpet sounded to the setting sun, | |
| That looked from his illumed pavilion, calm | 20 |
| Upon the scene of arms, as if, all still, | |
| And lovely as his parting light, the world | |
| Beneath him spread; nor clangors, nor deep groans, | |
| Were heard, nor victory’s shouts, nor sighs, nor shrieks, | |
| Were ever wafted from a bleeding land, | 25 |
| After the havoc of a conqueror’s sword. | |
| So calm the sun declined; when from the woods, | |
| That shone to his last beam, a Brahmin old | |
| Came forth. His streaming beard shone in the ray, | |
| That slanted o’er his feeble frame; his front | 30 |
| Was furrowed. To the sun’s last light he cast | |
| A look of sorrow, then in silence bowed | |
| Before the conqueror of the world. At once | |
| All, as in death, was still. The victor chief | |
| Trembled, he knew not why; the trumpet ceased | 35 |
| Its clangor, and the crimson streamer waved | |
| No more in folds insulting to the Lord | |
| Of the reposing world. The pallid front | |
| Of the meek man seemed for a moment calm, | |
| Yet dark and thronging thoughts appeared to swell | 40 |
| His beating heart. He paused,—and then abrupt: | |
| Victor, avaunt! he cried, | |
| Hence! and the banners of thy pride | |
| Bear to the deep! Behold on high | |
Yon range of mountains mingled with the sky!
It is the place | 45 |
| Where the great Father of the human race | |
| Rested, when all the world and all its sounds | |
| Ceased; and the ocean that surrounds | |
| The earth, leaped from its dark abode | |
| Beneath the mountains, and enormous flowed, | 50 |
| The green earth deluging! List, soldier, list! | |
| And dread His might no mortal may resist. | |
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