Poems

Front matter

POEMS, BY MISS EMMA MARY GOLDIE. Heaven doth with us, as we with torches do; Not light them for themselves : for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd But to fine issues ; nor nature never lends The smallest scruple of her excellence, But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines Herself the glory of a creditor, Both thanks and use. Shakspeare. LONDON: PRINTED BY A. J. VALPY, AND SOLD BY ALL BOOKSELLERS. 1835. CONTENTS. PAGE The Mysterious Bridal . . . . 1 His aspect and bis air impress'd A troubled memory on my breast, And long upon my startled ear Rung his dark courser's hoofs of fear, Lord Byron, Sarepta . . . . . . .17 Sweeps his long arm that sabre's whirling sway ; Sheds fast atonement for its first delay ; Completes his fury what their fear begun ; And makes the many basely quail to one.

Lord Byron. The Libertine's Bride .... 131 Hope is a lover's staff; walk hence with that, And manage it against despairing thoughts. Shakspeare. • CONTENTS. PAGE The Dissolution of the World . . 221 What if all Her stores were open'd, and this firmament Of hell should spout her cataracts of fire, Impendent horrors, threatening hideous fall One day upon our heads? Milton. A Dark was the night as I pass'd along; Bleak was the wind, but sunk was the storm : I had not a home where to rest my head, And the cold damp earth was my only bed : In one trembling hand a gloomy lamp I bore ; With a faltering step I near'd the foam-dash'd shore A dark cliff hung o'er the raging sea ; That black rock was dash'd by the ocean's spray; — THE MYSTERIOUS BRIDAL. And the lord of the atmosphere nested his young O'er the fierce waves that roar 'neath the dark rock which hung Where the waves rise again O'er the high crested main, Which had borne me away From mine own native land.

And dash'd with its spray My now forsaken strand ; And I hated the sight of the rising tide, Whose dark waves mock'd me as onward they ride ; And I thought, as I saw them toss along, I heard 'mongst the billows a laugh of scorn : And they howl'd like dogs to madness driven, As loud as the thunder which peals through heaven : But the roarings of ocean scarce equall'd the sound Of thewild beasts that howl d on the far-distant ground Where a dark forest grew, made the haunt of the dead Or a refuge to those who from slaughter had fled : But I heeded not the fierce lion's roar, Nor the howling wolf, nor the grisly boar, Nor the fight which they fought on the bloody plain, Nor the roaring sound of the crested mam : But there I stay'd till the break of day : My thoughts they wander'd ; I 'd lost my way ; — Till I was aroused by the conqueror's shout, And the cry of those who were put to the rout.

Canto II

On Ccesarea's battlement there stands The proud Egyptian with his warlike bands, For that town dared not strike a single blow 'Gainst such a fierce and all-victorious foe ; And now in Caesarea's port close ride Those ships, which lately stemm'd the foaming Those, which the Syrian had seen afar From proud Sarepta, coming to the war. The ships were armed j and at break of day, Fierce Pharnabasus hoped its chief to slay, And WTest Phoenicia from Cambyses' sway. SAREPTA. Now is advancing swift night's gloomy fall ; The Egyptians leave proud Csesarea's wall : Each one unto the harbor bends his way, There to refresh himself till dawn of day. On an Egyptian galley's deck does stand A chief, whose haughty look bespeaks command His bright steel armor in the moonbeams shone : His dark green mantle was across him thrown : Emerald, set in silver, there appears, Seeming to vie with heaven's dazzling stars : The green gems held his zone of silver fast ; Also with emeralds his tiara clasp'd, And one large jewel on his sword-hilt flash'd : A jet-black eagle flutter'd on his breast, By which he 'd sworn not on this earth to rest ; SAREPTA. i Till he 'd revenged the murder of his king, That sable eagle ne'er should close his wing.

This was the Syrian, exiled from his home : His sovereign murder' d, he was left alone, On the wide world, without a friend, to roam. He thought, next time the flaming orb of light Rose in the east, and chased away the night, He 'd stand within the cruel murderer's town, Free his Statira, and redeem her crown. All had retired, and he was left alone To gaze upon the main or silver moon : He thought of happy hours now passed by ; He sigh'd, and thus upbraided destiny : — " Nature is lulling ev'n herself to rest : I only seem to grieve on ocean's breast. O, had I died, ere I had drawn my sword To waste my country with the Egyptian horde SAREPTA. But I had leagued with Egypt, when the fire Of new-born vengeance fill'd this heart with ire ; Induced this hand to draw a rebel sword ; — Rebel, said I ? 'gainst whom ? — not 'gainst my lord !

For though Cambyses sits on Syria's throne, And in the Syrian land his word is doom ; Although he leads Phoenicia's troops to war ; — They serve him, not through zealous love, but fear : And he may dread the vengeance o'er his head — May fear the ghostly spirit of the dead, Which now returns in shape of Egypt's swords, Of Egypt's monarch, and of Egypt's lords. Could I but tell the Syrians, whose hand Stretch' d Artaxerxes lifeless on the strand, They 'd slay that base one ; and Phoenician swords Would spare that labor to the Egyptian lords. SAREPTA. is But as for Ochus, he will fight for one, From whose heart all but thought of crime gone. Yet could I tell him of his sovereign's wrong, I ask of Heaven ! would he not call on His troops ? — make even filial love retire ? And drown in murderer the name of sire ?

And yet rebellion would not well become, Nor secret murder grace that noble son. If Ochus raised against his sire his hand, And if Cambyses fell before his brand, That son would have the name of parricide ; Shunn'd by mankind for a base homicide ; Slain for the treacherous deed of regicide. I too well know he 'd not unsheathe his brand, Nor raise against his sire the Syrian band. SAREPTA. No ! Ochus will remain, through peace, through war, Through crimes of vengeance, steadfast to his sire. Methinks I see him in the battle's strife, Risking his own to save Cambyses' life. But neither love of peace, nor dread of war, Can in my bosom damp revenge's fire. No ! I can see my native towns burnt low ; Can wail those towns, but not unknit my brow ; Can see all Syria levell'd with the earth ; Can see the very mansion of my birth Destroy'd : nor shall Statira be a bait, Held out to me, by which to seal my fate ; And then, when I had yielded to the cry Of bleeding Syria, pealing to the sky ; — With a loud laugh — ay, and a laugh of scorn — I should be paid by torments yet unknown, In dungeon's vaults, to gain a traitor's doom.

SAREPTA. I '11 rest not till the murderer is kill'd ; Not, till the work of vengeance is fulfill'd ; Not, till I see upon the Syrian shore That base usurper weltering in his gore. I shall ere long be call'd to hold debate, And aid with counsel the Egyptian state ; Or help the Egyptian king with fire and brand To ravage Syria, my native land Ah ! what means this ? ' tis an Egyptian slave : He rows his fragile bark across the wave : He brings a message from the Egyptian lord : I knowhis mandate ere he speak the word." " My lord ! the king of Egypt does await The proud Antipater ; affairs of state Hold Egypt's warriors in long debate." SAREPTA. He turn'd ; the Syrian follow'd as he went ; To Pharnabasus' ship their course they bent. There sat the monarch of the Egyptian land ; And those who 'neath that sovereign held command, — All at the proud Egyptian's order stand ; And to debate upon what course is best, They 've call'd Antipater to join the rest.

Proud Pharnabasus' golden armor shone, As Egypt's sovereign rose from his high throne. His golden diadem with gems was wrought, Which from the Libyans' sandy shores were brought His mantle was of golden tissue made ; With bands of crimson satin was inlaid ; And glittering diamonds o'er that cloak were spray' d As if the sea, instead of snow-white foam, Dash'd o'er him nature's adamantine stone ; — SAREPTA. As if the starry skies had been defied To leave no outward ornament untried, To raise the high Egyptian's haughty pride. His tissued belt his massy sabre bore ; Its hilt with jewels was bespangled o'er : A Spanish blade proud Pharnabasus wore. " Egyptian chiefs and warriors, prepare ! I know you dread not the approaching war : Ev'n now we 've ta'en one of the foeman's towns : Thus fortune aids us, and on Syria frowns.

Ere long the Egyptian sceptre rules this 'land, And we tear Syria from Cambyses' hand. The just reward of his foul crime he '11 gain : On earth, the most refined of human pain ; In hell, all-scorching, all-destroying flame. SAREPTA. 49 Let every lord and every chieftain say What course is best to take at break of day : Shall we go instant to Sarepta's towers, And in his own nest dare the eagle's powers ; Or shall we first attack the towns, which stand On ocean's borders, 'neath that chief's command, And ravage Syria with fire and brand ? " He ceased : Antipater arose to speak, When an Egyptian rush'd into the ship : — " High crested flame comes raging o'er the sea, And holds 'gainst us the palm of victory ! " " Where did it first begin ? " the chief did cry : " Set all to work ; the flame itself defy."

The ceased; when, lo ! before him stood A turban'd leader, dabbled o'er with blood. E SAREPTA. " Go not so soon ; hear what I have to say : Prudence, not bravery, will hold the sway : , It was a fire-ship, that the Syrian sent ; The blazing galley through our proud fleet went : Naught could resist the flaming element. And now, my lord, the Syrian drives on His armed galleys, ere the flame is gone • All 'fore Cambyses' sword of death do fly ; None dare to meet the satrap's dreaded eye : The Syrian chieftains follow to the war, Fierce as their eagle darting from afar ; But then, their head, their heart, their chief is gone Ochus, the satrap's all-victorious son, No more to battle leads the Syrians on." He ceased ; exhausted nature could no more : The wounded leader sunk upon the floor : SAREPTA.

They raised him up from off his hard death-bed: He call'd down blessings on his sovereign's head ; And now for evermore his soul was fled. The fierce Egyptian mingled with the throng, As Pharnabasus led his warriors on, To meet the furious devastating storm. The dreaded ship had stay'd its fearful course, Yet fire rush'd on with all-destroying force : Both noble fleets were yielded to the flame, And each ship trembled as the fire on came. The blazing timber plunged into the sea, And fire bore on the Egyptians' destiny. O'er the wide ocean a fierce shout arose ; For fire and water are not greater foes, SAREPTA. Than when proud Egypt's troops and Syria's band Through the fierce battle are match'd hand to hand, And flame reflected marks each waving brand. On Egypt's royal galley Xerxes sprung ; A band of Syrians follow'd Xerxes on.

There stood Antipater : — his gallant band Of rebel Syrians round their chieftain stand. " Vengeance on rebels ! " was bold Xerxes' cry ; " Revenge our sovereign ! " was the foe's reply. They fought, while round them fell the blazing wood, And Syrian sabre plunged in Syrian blood : Numbers on each side met a bloody grave, Or sunk, and died beneath the boiling wave : But Xerxes press'd to where the Syrian lord, Antipater, waved round his shining sword ; SAREPTA. 53 Who left the slaughter of unequal foes, To change with Xerxes less unequal blows. Vainly did Xerxes think that he could stand The high Antipater's far-dreaded brand : He raised the sword which Xerxes had defied, And plunged that sabre in bold Xerxes' side : He fell, and with him fell the Syrians' pride. " Revenge my death ! " the dying leader cried.

It was in vain they heard that well-known voice : Rather than die they made base flight their choice. Antipater led on his conquering band ; Their gathering standard was his blood-stain'd brand : All rush'd to slaughter at that chiefs command. The fell Cambyses cross'd the flaming sword Of Pharnabasus, the Egyptian lord ; And their loud shouting o'er the fight was heard SAREPTA. They fought 'midst rising, roaring, raging fire ; And ocean's waves burst o'er them in their ire. Back they are press'd as the fierce fire comes on, Then forward when the crested flame is gone : Both fought with equal valor, and both tried To sheathe his sabre in his foeman's side. So even match'd were these fierce chiefs in might. That none could tell which was to win the fight. Until a Syrian struck his chieftain's sword : His cry of joy above the fight was heard, As fell the sabre of Sarepta's lord.

The fierce Cambyses stood an easy prey, Alone, unarm'd 'neath Pharnabasus' sway ; For o'er him waved the Egyptian's sabre's ray. The Syrians turn'd : a panic o'er them came : They sought those ships which free from fire remain, And fled across the rolling seas again. SAREPTA. The shout of Egypt for the victory Mix'd with the roaring of the foaming sea : They follow' d their proud leader to the shore ; The high Cambyses they a captive bore. And now in Csesarea's town there stand Around their chieftain that victorious band, The pride and glory of the Egyptian land : But Pharnabasus, weary with the war, Saw with regret the devastating fire. It was for him so many lives were lost ; It was for him, upon the rocky coast So many vessels were to atoms toss'd : Though 'twas a joy to stand upon that tower, To hear the foaming billows 'neath him roar, And think Cambyses was a king no more. SAREPTA.

Canto III

In proud Sarepta's lofty battled towers, Alone, unaided, (for the satrap's powers Were gone to fight 'gainst Pharnabasus' hordes j And to lead on 'gainst Egypt's waving swords Went Syria's nobles and high-turban'd lords) Sat young Statira, orphan'd and alone ; Her father's murderer's hearth her only home ; Her only friend that cruel murderer's son. Her auburn tresses o'er her white neck roll'd, Held by a crown of adamant and gold : SAREPTA. 57 Her white veil floating, hung with many a grace O'er her fair shoulders : in her lovely face Proud Artaxerxes' features you might trace : Her crimson robe, with gems besprinkled o'er In form of flowers, young Statira wore. Here she was queen, and much beloved by all All would have battled at that maiden's call. A turban'd slave unto the princess came, Bent to the earth, and thus bespoke his queen : — " Lady, a raging chief is at our gate, Demanding entrance, and he will not wait."

Statira waved her hand, as in assent : The slave well knew what that mute signal meant ; And, scarcely rising, from her presence went. SAREPTA. the Statira wonder 'd who the chief could be : She 'd seen no ship come o'er the swelling sea : She knows that they have enter'd, by the sound Of the proud chargers, which now shake ground : She gazed upon the flag which still waved wide : She saw an eagle rising at its side. " It must be Ochus ! " the fair princess cried. The maiden rose ; the door was open thrown : Firm was his footstep as that chief came on : The pearl-boss'd eagle show'd Cambyses' son ; Who in an instant by the princess stood : Dark was his brow, but darker was his mood. " Statira ! what means this unguarded town ? Where is the satrap ? where is Xerxes gone ? SAREPTA. Where high Cambyses — where my father ? say ; Leads he his troops to conquer and to slay ?

Has Pharnabasus won the Syrian land ? Do the base cowards yield at his command ? Has the proud satrap all unhelp'd gone down ? Not one to aid in absence of his son ? Where is Antipater, thy Syrian lord ? Where does the traitor draw his rebel sword ? He will not dare to cross my noble sire : He will not dare to meet that eye of fire. Look not on me, Statira, as a foe ; I 'm come to soothe the queen of Syria's woe. Hast thou forgotten, then, thy destined lord ? So soon forgotten ? At his single word, Thy father's brother, Syria's satrap, stay'd His swift-descending, justice-dealing blade From falling on that coward traitor's head, SAREPTA. Antipater, to human kind disgrace ; Stain and dishonor to the Persian race." " Ochus ! " the Syrian princess then replied, " If but for my sake, do not him deride : It does not well become Cambyses' son To add to griefs which to my heart have won.

To uphold his murderer on my father's throne ; To save from ruin all the Syrian land ; — Cambyses' warriors, at that chief's command, Now go to fight 'gainst Pharnabasus' band. If Heaven be propitious to my prayers, No day of glory e'er to him appears ; And Heaven's vengeance ere long time will come, I do not fear to tell the satrap's son, It was an arrow from Cambyses' hand That laid my father lifeless on the strand. SAREPTA. All thought my queenly mother, stung by grief, By her own hand sought death, as some relief : No ! 'twas the same hand that laid low his chief : Nor could he spare defenceless infancy ; My brothers died by his vile perfidy : And I was saved to wed that murderer's son ; That when the base Cambyses' fife was gone, Thou mightst in peace ascend the satrap's throne, I 've told thee how my noble father died ; I ask revenge !

" she ceased : the chief replied: — " Statira ! 'tis a hard thing that you ask ; To slay a father is a fearful task. Cambyses told me of this cruel deed : It was for this I left him in his need. So then, the price of fair Statira's hand Is, that I rebel 'gainst my native land, And Ochus' father die by Ochus' brand. i SAREPTA. Statira ! that request 's unworthy thee ; And to fulfil it, more unworthy me : Soon Heaven itself will seal the satrap's doom, And lay Cambyses in the mouldering tomb : No, no, Statira ! 'tis not meet a son Should make a father for his crimes atone. Not all the riches of the Persian king, Not ev'n the charms which ride on beauty's wing, Can make this hand my father's death-knell ring.' " Statira has not then a single friend," The princess cried ; " I thought that thou wouldst lend A hand to wreak revenge for such a deed, And help the Syrian princess in her need."

She ceased : and Ochus said, — " Now hear me swear By all in heaven or earth that I hold dear, That if Statira will forsake these halls, She shall be free from all this war's fierce broils ; SAREPTA. Antipater shall not be slain in fight, Nor forced to take to ignominious flight ; He shall be treated, not as he deserved ; But for Statira's sake shall be preserved. If thou refusest to comply, this hand In that base traitor's blood will steep this brand." He ceased ; and thus the fair princess replied, Her dark eyes brightening with a noble pride : — " Thou mightst as well speak to the rolling main ; Thy threats and promises alike are vain ; Statira's love, proud lord, thou ne'er canst gain." She scarce had finish' d, 'fore, with sword in hand, A Syrian enter'd from Cambyses' band ; And round him crowding Ochus' warriors stand : Breathless he sunk upon the marble floor, And stain'd with blood its snow-white surface o'er.

SAREPTA. ? Statira started back with wild dismay ; But Ochus did unto the Syrian say, — " What mean those wounds ? where is the Syrian king Where does Cambyses spread his eagle wing ? Is the Egyptian vanquish'd in the fight, Or does the Syrian seek a coward flight ?" The satrap soldier raised him from the ground ; Uiibroke his armor ; not a single wound Gaped wide ; the blood of those he 'd slain Did that base Syrian's wide mantle stain. He spoke ; but first he sheathed his bloody sword, Then bow'd in reverence fore the Syrian lord. " Ochus is satrap of the Syrian land, And Syria's chieftains live at his command. I 'm come to claim my well-deserved reward ; This hand has saved all from the Egyptian horde SAREPTA. 65 It was not for the Syrian land they fought ; It was the fierce Cambyses' life they sought. 'Twas this same hand, (I glory in the deed) That from the satrap dash'd his blood-stain d blade, And left him helpless 'fore the Egyptian lord, To meet his doom by Pharnabasus' sword ; So, for his crimes to gain the just reward."

"What mean'st thou, slave?" the Syrian chieftain said ; " Darest thou cry vengeance on thy sovereign s head ; Then are the Syrians fled ; Cambyses gone ; And Pharnabasus' sword has seal'd his doom. Darest thou tell Ochus, from his father's hand Thou dash'd Cambyses' never-conquer'd brand ? — Why waste I words upon this dastard slave ? Dark ocean's bed, ere long, shall be thy grave, And Q'er thy head shall burst the crested wave." SAREPTA. Glared his fierce eye, and swift his glittering blade Swept from his shoulders the foul traitor's head : " Dash him to ocean !" the fierce Ochus said: '* Mount, my brave troopers ! follow Ochus on ! And ere three times the setting sun has shone, Shall Ochus' sabre 'venge Cambyses gone." Loud rang his bugle ; at that clarion's bray Rode Ochus' warriors in proud array ; And in the midst does Persia's flag appear, The golden eagle on his banner'd spear.

And now they 've left Sarepta's town again, To fight the Egyptian on the distant plain, And, as they thought, revenge their sovereign slain SAREPTA. 67

Canto IV

See the fierce monarch of the Egyptian land ! See Egypt's turban'd chieftains round him stand, That lead to conquest Egypt's warrior band ! Without the Ceesarean wall they wait, Wide circling round their monarch's throne of state To see proud Syria's satrap meet his fate. The high Cambyses is a captive tied, Where once he govern'd with a monarch's pride ; And as he pass'd through the assembled crowd, Some from derision to the satrap bow'd ; SAREPTA. And those who until now had own'd his sway, Forsook their monarch on that fatal day But the high satrap look'd on all with scorn, Nor else did heed them as he pass'd along : Perhaps a gloom more dark was on his brow; Yet by those haughty glances all might know, In the bound satrap of the Syrian land, One who was used all others to command. The Syrian satrap near'd the Egyptian throne, Waved his mail'd hand, and thus the chief begun :. — " Haughty Egyptian ! you have drawn your brand; You 've cross'd the seas to attack the Syrian land: For his own vengeance, not his people's sake, Does Pharnabasus this fierce war awake : It is in vain, Egyptians, that you try To make the Syrian's golden eagle fly, And your chief's word be her sad destiny.

SAREPTA. 69 nil Ay, you may say, the only fight we tried — The only time the Egyptians we defied — Proud Pharnabasus lower' d Syria's pride, And made the Syrians fly across the main, With few ships rescued from the raging flame : They had no leader, or they 'd not have fled : Were but a valiant mass, without a head ; For I myself saw all my chiefs go down ; And when I fought with thee, I fought alone. Had Ochus not rebell'd against his sire, All that stand here had felt the Syrian ire." "Ochus is gone!" loud peal'd to heaven high " Ochus is gone ! " now rends the troubled sky, As Egypt's warriors echoed back that cry. " Ay, he is gone," the Syrian satrap said : " Hell will wreak vengeance on his guilty head. SAREPTA. i Now, Pharnabasus, 'tis my last demand ; Wilt thou obey a dying chief's command ?

And you, proud Syrian, by the love you bear To Artaxerxes, here I bid thee swear, Soon to obey the orders which you hear : Wreak dire revenge upon my traitor son, As best becomes the pride of Egypt's throne ; And he who next leads Egypt's warriors on. Think not that Ochus has forsook the land : Know, Syrian nobles fight at his command." From the dark forest a shrill clarion rung: Loud shouts Cambyses, — " See, the Syrians come That is the bugle of my warrior son!" The chieftain said ; when to the astonish'd gaze Of 'sembled Egypt, in the sun's bright blaze The Syrian Ochus flash'd his sabre rays. SAREPTA. Cambyses saw, unmoved, his raging son ; The high Egyptian sprung from off his throne, And his loud shouting call'd his warriors on. His turban'd chieftains loud repeat the word : Bright gleam'd Antipater' s unsheathed sword ; And the fierce war-cry of the Egyptian land Rung, and re-echoed through the Egyptian band.

The Syrian calls his warriors around On to the rescue ; at his bugle's sound, Ten thousand Syrian chargers shake the ground. " It is Cambyses !" loudly Ochus cried : He sprung like lightning to his father's side : The chains are loosed ; the satrap stands unbound : The fight 's begun : confusion sweeps around SAREPTA. Her devastating brand : now they rush on, Now are press'd back ; and midst the mingled throng, Whose sabres work his will, there grim Death stands, And gluts himself with these devoted bands. Where'er the Syrian fought, there all went down ; All by his sabre found a bloody tomb : As he dash'd on, none dared him to oppose ; His every blow was death-doom to his foes ; To mark his path a bloody torrent flows. All felt a fear ; the Egyptian fled amain ; The fierce steed snorted, and his eyes shot flame ; And grim Death follow'd where dark Ochus came Like when the thunderstorm is seen from far, All fly dismay'd from elemental war ; 4ft All vessels try the harbor to obtain, And free from ocean's deluge to remain : SAREPTA. 73 But spurr'd by heaven's waters into wrath, The dark waves rise, dash'd o'er by snowy froth : Overwhelm all, and to wide ocean's womb, All s swept together in one watery tomb.

So sweeps dark Ochus on the Egyptian band : His Syrian horsemen follow where his brand Pursues the conquer'd, conquers those who stand. But what high form comes o'er the ensanguined plain, Swift as the sea-fowl o'er the rolling main ? ' Tis Tissaphernes, by the Arab steed Well known in war, and matchless in his speed : Dark as the night, or as Tartarean deeps, He bears his rider on, who round him sweeps His waving steel : in blood-stain'd robes array'd Sat Death, and Terror on that warrior's blade : G SAREPTA. His silver armor studded o'er with gold ; His purple mantle o'er his charger roll'd ; On his tiara, pearls in every fold : And the dark steed, whose trappings seem'd to vie In dazzling beauty with the starry sky ; The golden crown, the ivory-hilted sword, Proclaim'd the brother of the Egyptian lord.

He mark'd swift Ochus, as that chief rode on, Fierce, dealing death the Egyptian ranks among; Whose charger needed not nor spur nor rein; Stay'd at his rider's call; then on again He bore, swift as the devastating fire : All fall before him in confusion dire : The Egyptians ' fore the Syrian chief retire. Fierce Tissapherncs spurr'd his charger on, To where the Syrian fought, but he is gone. SAREPTA. Now here, now there appears the dappled horse ; Fear sweeps his path, Death follows in his course. The Egyptian calls him to return ; but on, Unhearing and unseeing, Ochus sprung ; Dash'd through his foes, who on all sides gave way : None for an instant cross'd him in the fray ; But all fled trembling ' fore his sabre's ray. He nears the spot where Pharnabasus stands, Where fight the bravest of the Egyptian bands : Bravest and noblest, all alike go down ; All by his waving sabre meet their doom, As sprung the charger of dark Ochus on.