I should be with them, should be one of But in an evil hour, an hour of weakness, Only an outward semblance of belief; own, Not being born to it. It hath no root Greek, They take fire out of them, and light the lamps In the great candlestick. They spread the veils, And set the loaves of showbread on the table. The incense burns; the well-remembered odor Comes wafted unto me, and takes me To other days. I see myself among them And hark! they sing with citherns and And all the people fall upon their faces, Alas! to-day I would give everything Ant. Sleep from mine eyes is gone, And my heart faileth me for very care. Dost thou remember, Philip, the old fable Told us when we were boys, in which the Going for honey overturns the hive, Where Stung by the Persian swarms of Elymais. These thoughts will be as covered and forgotten As are the tracks of Pharaoh's chariotwheels In the Egyptian sands. Ant. My Lysias, Gorgias, Seron, and Nica nor, Are babes in battle, and this dreadful Will rob me of my kingdom and my crown. My elephants shall trample him to dust; I will wipe out his nation, and will make Jerusalem a common burying-place, SCENE II. ANTIOCHUS; PHILIP; A MES- And every home within its walls a A strange foreboding As I remember, told me of a Prophet sea tomb! (Throws up his hands, and sinks into the arms of attendants, who lay him upon a bank.) Philip. Antiochus! Antiochus ! Alas, The King is ill! What is it, O my Lord? Ant. Nothing. A sudden and sharp spasm of pain, As if the lightning struck me, or the knife Of an assassin smote me to the heart. 'Tis passed, even as it came. set forward. Let us Philip. See that the chariots be in readiness; Like a man's hand, and soon the heaven | We will depart forthwith. was black I see that cloud. It makes the letters The God, Epiphanes." Ant. O mockery! Even Lysias laughs at me! - Go on, go on ! Philip (reading). "We pray thee hasten thy return. The realm Ant. How canst thou help it, Philip? O the pain! Is falling from thee. Since thou hast Stab after stab. gone from us The victories of Judas Maccabæus Ephron and all the towns of Galaad, We will drive forward, forward, without against Thou hast no shield This unseen weapon. God of Israel, Thy people, whom I judged to be un- To be so much as buried, shall be equal I will become a Jew, and will declare Philip. He faints. It is like death. Bring here the royal litter. We will Unto my son, Antiochus Eupator; bear him Into the camp, while yet he lives. Ant. 0 Philip, Into what tribulation am I come! Alas! I now remember all the evil That I have done the Jews; and for this monarch A HANDFUL OF TRANSLATIONS. [Dies. "This hand no longer shall On the swans of the Seven Lakes, "I will no longer stray 66 Though thou give me thy coat of mail, Of softest leather made, With choicest steel inlaid, "What right hast thou, O Khan, "God will appoint the day "God, who doth care for me, "When I wander lonely and lost "Yea, wheresoever I be, Cast my hawks, when morning breaks, In the yellow desert sands, In mountains or unknown lands, Allah will care for me!" III. Then Sobra, the old, old man, "If you bid me, I will speak. 66 I am old, I am very old : I have seen the primeval man, I have seen the great Gengis Khan, "What I say to you is the truth; "Him the Almighty made, "He was born at the break of day, "Gifted with Allah's grace, "When first on earth he trod, "And he shall be king of men, For Allah hath heard his prayer, And the Archangel in the air, Gabriel, hath said, Amen!' THE SIEGE OF KAZAN. Brook, to what river dost thou go? Tartar Song, from the Prose Version of I go to the river there below Chodzko. BLACK are the moors before Kazan, Where in bunches the violets grow, And sun and shadow meet. And their stagnant waters smell of Brook, to what garden dost thou go? blood: O my brooklet cool and sweet! I go to the garden in the vale Brook, to what fountain dost thou go? CONSOLATION. To M. Duperrier, Gentleman of Ais in Provence, on the Death of his Daughter. FROM MALHERBE. The maid that loves thee comes to WILL then, Duperrier, thy sorrow be drink, And whenever she looks therein, I rise to meet her, and kiss her chin, And my joy is then complete. TO THE STORK. Armenian Popular Song, from the Prose WELCOME, O Stork! that dost wing eternal? And shall the sad discourse Whispered within thy heart, by tender ness paternal, Only augment its force? Thy daughter's mournful fate, into the tomb descending By death's frequented ways, Has it become to thee a labyrinth never ending, Where thy lost reason strays? Thou hast brought us the signs of I know the charms that made her youth Spring, Thou hast made our sad hearts gay. Descend, O Stork! descend Upon our roof to rest; In our ash-tree, O my friend, My darling, make thy nest. To thee, O Stork, I complain, O Stork, to thee I impart The thousand sorrows, the pain And aching of my heart. When thou away didst go, Away from this tree of ours, The withering winds did blow, And dried up all the flowers. Dark grew the brilliant sky, Cloudy and dark and drear; They were breaking the snow on high, And winter was drawing near. From Varaca's rocky wall, From the rock of Varaca unrolled, The snow came and covered all, And the green meadow was cold. D Stork, our garden with snow a benediction : Nor should I be content, As a censorious friend, to solace thine affliction By her disparagement. But she was of the world, which fairest things exposes To fates the most forlorn; A rose, she too hath lived as long as live the roses, The space of one brief morn. Death has his rigorous laws, unparal leled, unfeeling; All prayers to him are vain ; Cruel, he stops his ears, and, deaf to our appealing, He leaves us to complain. The poor man in his hut, with only thatch for cover, Unto these laws must bend; The sentinel that guards the barriers of the Louvre Cannot our kings defend. To murmur against death, in petulant defiance, Is never for the best; To will what God doth will, that is the only science That gives us any rest. |