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| IT was the wild midnight,— | |
| A storm was on the sky; | |
| The lightning gave its light, | |
| And the thunder echoed by. | |
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| The torrent swept the glen, | 5 |
| The ocean lashed the shore; | |
| Then rose the Spartan men, | |
| To make their bed in gore! | |
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| Swift from the deluge ground | |
| Three hundred took the shield; | 10 |
| Then, silent, gathered round | |
| The leader of the field! | |
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| He spake no warrior word, | |
| He bade no trumpet blow, | |
| But the signal thunder roared, | 15 |
| And they rushed upon the foe. | |
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| The fiery element | |
| Showed, with one mighty gleam, | |
| Rampart, and flag, and tent, | |
| Like the spectres of a dream. | 20 |
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| All up the mountain’s side, | |
| All down the woody vale, | |
| All by the rolling tide | |
| Waved the Persian banners pale. | |
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| And foremost from the pass, | 25 |
| Among the slumbering band, | |
| Sprang King Leonidas, | |
| Like the lightning’s living brand. | |
| |
| Then double darkness fell, | |
| And the forest ceased its moan; | 30 |
| But there came a clash of steel, | |
| And a distant dying groan. | |
| |
| Anon, a trumpet blew, | |
| And a fiery sheet burst high, | |
| That o’er the midnight threw | 35 |
| A blood-red canopy. | |
| |
| A host glared on the hill; | |
| A host glared by the bay; | |
| But the Greeks rushed onward still, | |
| Like leopards in their play. | 40 |
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| The air was all a yell, | |
| And the earth was all a flame, | |
| Where the Spartan’s bloody steel | |
| On the silken turbans came; | |
| |
| And still the Greek rushed on | 45 |
| Where the fiery torrent rolled, | |
| Till like a rising sun | |
| Shone Xerxes’ tent of gold. | |
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| They found a royal feast, | |
| His midnight banquet, there; | 50 |
| And the treasures of the East | |
| Lay beneath the Doric spear. | |
| |
| Then sat to the repast | |
| The bravest of the brave! | |
| That feast must be their last, | 55 |
| That spot must be their grave. | |
| |
| They pledged old Sparta’s name | |
| In cups of Syrian wine, | |
| And the warrior’s deathless fame | |
| Was sung in strains divine. | 60 |
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| They took the rose-wreathed lyres | |
| From eunuch and from slave, | |
| And taught the languid wires, | |
| The sounds that Freedom gave. | |
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| But now the morning star | 65 |
| Crowned Œta’s twilight brow; | |
| And the Persian horn of war | |
| From the hills began to blow. | |
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| Up rose the glorious rank, | |
| To Greece one cup poured high, | 70 |
| Then hand in hand they drank, | |
| “To immortality!” | |
| |
| Fear on King Xerxes fell, | |
| When, like spirits from the tomb, | |
| With shout and trumpet knell, | 75 |
| He saw the warriors come. | |
| |
| But down swept all his power, | |
| With chariot and with charge; | |
| Down poured the arrows’ shower, | |
| Till sank the Dorian’s targe. | 80 |
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| They gathered round the tent, | |
| With all their strength unstrung; | |
| To Greece one look they sent, | |
| Then on high their torches flung. | |
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| The king sat on the throne, | 85 |
| His captains by his side, | |
| While the flame rushed roaring on, | |
| And their Pæan loud replied. | |
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| Thus fought the Greek of old! | |
| Thus will he fight again! | 90 |
| Shall not the self-same mould | |
| Bring forth the self-same men? | |
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