| |
| NOW near the burning domes, the squadrons stood, | |
| Their breasts impatient for the scenes of blood: | |
| On every face a deathlike glimmer sate, | |
| The unbless’d harbinger of instant fate. | |
| High through the gloom, in pale and dreadful spires, | 5 |
| Rose the long terrors of the dark red fires; | |
| Torches, and torrent sparks, by whirlwinds driven, | |
| Stream’d through the smoke, and fired the clouded heaven. | |
| As oft tall turrets sunk with rushing sound, | |
| Broad flames burst forth, and swept the etherial round, | 10 |
| The bright expansion lightened all the scene, | |
| And deeper shadows lengthen’d o’er the green. | |
| Loud through the walls that cast a golden gleam, | |
| Crown’d with tall pyramids of bending flame, | |
| As thunders rumble down the darkening vales, | 15 |
| Roll’d the deep solemn voice of rushing gales: | |
| The bands admiring gazed the wondrous sight, | |
| And expectation trembled for the fight. | |
| At once the sounding clarion breath’d alarms; | |
| Wide from the forest burst the flash of arms; | 20 |
| Thick gleam’d the helms; and o’er astonish’d fields, | |
| Like thousand meteors, rose the flame-bright shields. | |
| In gloomy pomp, to furious combat roll’d | |
| Ranks sheath’d in mail, and chiefs in glimmering gold; | |
| In floating lustre bounds the dim-seen steed, | 25 |
| And cars, unfinish’d, swift to cars succeed; | |
| From all the host ascends a dark red glare, | |
| Here in full blaze, in distant twinklings there; | |
| Slow waves the dreadful light; as round the shore | |
| Night’s solemn blasts with deep concussion roar, | 30 |
| So rush the footsteps of the embattled train, | |
| And send an awful murmur o’er the plain. | |
| Tall in the opposing van, bold Irad stood, | |
| And bade the clarion sound the voice of blood. | |
| Loud blew the trumpet on the sweeping gales, | 35 |
| Rock’d the deep groves, and echo’d round the vales: | |
| A ceaseless murmur all the concave fills, | |
| Waves through the quivering camp, and trembles o’er the hills. | |
| High in the gloomy blaze the standards flew; | |
| The impatient youth his burnish’d falchion drew; | 40 |
| Ten thousand swords his eager bands display’d, | |
| And crimson’d terrors danced on every blade. | |
| With equal rage, the bold, Hazorian train | |
| Pour’d a wide deluge o’er the shadowy plain; | |
| Loud rose the song of war; loud clanged the shields; | 45 |
| Dread shouts of vengeance shook the shuddering fields; | |
| With mingled din, shrill, martial music rings, | |
| And swift to combat each fierce hero springs. | |
| So broad, and dark, a midnight storm ascends, | |
| Bursts on the main, and trembling nature rends; | 50 |
| The red foam burns, the wat’ry mountains rise, | |
| And deep unmeasured thunder heaves the skies; | |
| The bark drives lonely; shivering and forlorn, | |
| The poor, sad sailors wish the lingering morn: | |
| Not with less fury rush’d the vengeful train; | 55 |
| Not with less tumult roar’d the embattled plain. | |
| Now in the oak’s black shade they fought conceal’d; | |
| And now they shouted through the open field; | |
| The long, pale splendors of the curling flame | |
| Cast o’er their polish’d arms a livid gleam; | 60 |
| An umber’d lustre floated round their way, | |
| And lighted falchions to the fierce affray. | |
| Now the swift chariots ’gainst the stubborn oak | |
| Dash; the dark earth re-echoes to the shock. | |
| From shade to shade the forms tremendous stream, | 65 |
| And their arms flash a momentary flame. | |
| Mid hollow tombs, as fleets an airy train, | |
| Lost in the skies, or fading o’er the plain; | |
| So visionary shapes, around the fight, | |
| Shoot through the gloom, and vanish from the sight; | 70 |
| Through twilight paths the maddening coursers bound, | |
| The shrill swords crack, the clashing shields resound. | |
| There, lost in grandeur, might the eye behold | |
| The dark red glimmering of the steel and gold, | |
| The chief, the steed, the nimbly rushing car, | 75 |
| And all the horrors of the gloomy war. | |
| Here the thick clouds, with purple lustre bright, | |
| Spread o’er the long, long host and gradual sunk in night; | |
| Here half the world was wrapp’d in rolling fires, | |
| And dreadful valleys sunk between the spires. | 80 |
| Swift ran black forms across the livid flame, | |
| And oaks waved slowly in the trembling beam: | |
| Loud rose the mingled noise; with hollow sound, | |
| Deep rolling whirlwinds roar, and thundering flames resound. | |
| As drives a blast along the midnight heath, | 85 |
| Rush’d raging Irad on the scenes of death; | |
| High o’er his shoulder gleam’d his brandish’d blade, | |
| And scatter’d ruin round the twilight shade. | |
| Full on a giant hero’s sweeping car | |
| He pour’d the tempest of resistless war; | 90 |
| His twinkling lance the heathen raised on high, | |
| And hurl’d it, fruitless, through the gloomy sky; | |
| From the bold youth the maddening coursers wheel, | |
| Gash’d by the vengeance of his slaughtering steel: | |
| ’Twixt two tall oaks the helpless chief they drew; | 95 |
| The shrill car dash’d; the crack’d wheels rattling flew; | |
| Crush’d in his arms, to rise he strove in vain, | |
| And lay unpitied on the dreary plain. | |
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