Percy Bysshe Shelley - Delphi Poets Series

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Percy Bysshe Shelley - Delphi Poets Series Page 120

by Percy Bysshe Shelley

And reign in ruin. Phrygian Olympus,

  Tmolus, and Latmos, and Mycale, roughen

  With horrent arms; and lofty ships even now,

  Like vapours anchored to a mountain’s edge,

  Freighted with fire and whirlwind, wait at Scala 285

  The convoy of the ever-veering wind.

  Samos is drunk with blood; — the Greek has paid

  Brief victory with swift loss and long despair.

  The false Moldavian serfs fled fast and far

  When the fierce shout of ‘Allah-illa-Allah!’ 290

  Rose like the war-cry of the northern wind

  Which kills the sluggish clouds, and leaves a flock

  Of wild swans struggling with the naked storm.

  So were the lost Greeks on the Danube’s day!

  If night is mute, yet the returning sun 295

  Kindles the voices of the morning birds;

  Nor at thy bidding less exultingly

  Than birds rejoicing in the golden day,

  The Anarchies of Africa unleash

  Their tempest-winged cities of the sea, 300

  To speak in thunder to the rebel world.

  Like sulphurous clouds, half-shattered by the storm,

  They sweep the pale Aegean, while the Queen

  Of Ocean, bound upon her island-throne,

  Far in the West, sits mourning that her sons 305

  Who frown on Freedom spare a smile for thee:

  Russia still hovers, as an eagle might

  Within a cloud, near which a kite and crane

  Hang tangled in inextricable fight,

  To stoop upon the victor; — for she fears 310

  The name of Freedom, even as she hates thine.

  But recreant Austria loves thee as the Grave

  Loves Pestilence, and her slow dogs of war

  Fleshed with the chase, come up from Italy,

  And howl upon their limits; for they see 315

  The panther, Freedom, fled to her old cover,

  Amid seas and mountains, and a mightier brood

  Crouch round. What Anarch wears a crown or mitre,

  Or bears the sword, or grasps the key of gold,

  Whose friends are not thy friends, whose foes thy foes? 320

  Our arsenals and our armouries are full;

  Our forts defy assault; ten thousand cannon

  Lie ranged upon the beach, and hour by hour

  Their earth-convulsing wheels affright the city;

  The galloping of fiery steeds makes pale 325

  The Christian merchant; and the yellow Jew

  Hides his hoard deeper in the faithless earth.

  Like clouds, and like the shadows of the clouds,

  Over the hills of Anatolia,

  Swift in wide troops the Tartar chivalry 330

  Sweep; — the far flashing of their starry lances

  Reverberates the dying light of day.

  We have one God, one King, one Hope, one Law;

  But many-headed Insurrection stands

  Divided in itself, and soon must fall. 335

  MAHMUD:

  Proud words, when deeds come short, are seasonable:

  Look, Hassan, on yon crescent moon, emblazoned

  Upon that shattered flag of fiery cloud

  Which leads the rear of the departing day;

  Wan emblem of an empire fading now! 340

  See how it trembles in the blood-red air,

  And like a mighty lamp whose oil is spent

  Shrinks on the horizon’s edge, while, from above,

  One star with insolent and victorious light

  Hovers above its fall, and with keen beams, 345

  Like arrows through a fainting antelope,

  Strikes its weak form to death.

  HASSAN:

  Even as that moon

  Renews itself —

  MAHMUD:

  Shall we be not renewed!

  Far other bark than ours were needed now

  To stem the torrent of descending time: 350

  The Spirit that lifts the slave before his lord

  Stalks through the capitals of armed kings,

  And spreads his ensign in the wilderness:

  Exults in chains; and, when the rebel falls,

  Cries like the blood of Abel from the dust; 355

  And the inheritors of the earth, like beasts

  When earthquake is unleashed, with idiot fear

  Cower in their kingly dens — as I do now.

  What were Defeat when Victory must appal?

  Or Danger, when Security looks pale? — 360

  How said the messenger — who, from the fort

  Islanded in the Danube, saw the battle

  Of Bucharest? — that —

  HASSAN:

  Ibrahim’s scimitar

  Drew with its gleam swift victory from Heaven,

  To burn before him in the night of battle — 365

  A light and a destruction.

  MAHMUD:

  Ay! the day

  Was ours: but how? —

  HASSAN:

  The light Wallachians,

  The Arnaut, Servian, and Albanian allies

  Fled from the glance of our artillery

  Almost before the thunderstone alit. 370

  One half the Grecian army made a bridge

  Of safe and slow retreat, with Moslem dead;

  The other —

  MAHMUD:

  Speak — tremble not. —

  HASSAN:

  Islanded

  By victor myriads, formed in hollow square

  With rough and steadfast front, and thrice flung back 375

  The deluge of our foaming cavalry;

  Thrice their keen wedge of battle pierced our lines.

  Our baffled army trembled like one man

  Before a host, and gave them space; but soon,

  From the surrounding hills, the batteries blazed, 380

  Kneading them down with fire and iron rain:

  Yet none approached; till, like a field of corn

  Under the hook of the swart sickleman,

  The band, intrenched in mounds of Turkish dead,

  Grew weak and few. — Then said the Pacha, ‘Slaves, 385

  Render yourselves — they have abandoned you —

  What hope of refuge, or retreat, or aid?

  We grant your lives.’ ‘Grant that which is thine own!’

  Cried one, and fell upon his sword and died!

  Another—’God, and man, and hope abandon me; 390

  But I to them, and to myself, remain

  Constant:’ — he bowed his head, and his heart burst.

  A third exclaimed, ‘There is a refuge, tyrant,

  Where thou darest not pursue, and canst not harm

  Shouldst thou pursue; there we shall meet again.’ 395

  Then held his breath, and, after a brief spasm,

  The indignant spirit cast its mortal garment

  Among the slain — dead earth upon the earth!

  So these survivors, each by different ways,

  Some strange, all sudden, none dishonourable, 400

  Met in triumphant death; and when our army

  Closed in, while yet wonder, and awe, and shame

  Held back the base hyaenas of the battle

  That feed upon the dead and fly the living,

  One rose out of the chaos of the slain: 405

  And if it were a corpse which some dread spirit

  Of the old saviours of the land we rule

  Had lifted in its anger, wandering by; —

  Or if there burned within the dying man

  Unquenchable disdain of death, and faith 410

  Creating what it feigned; — I cannot tell —

  But he cried, ‘Phantoms of the free, we come!

  Armies of the Eternal, ye who strike

  To dust the citadels of sanguine kings,

  And shake the souls throned on their stony hearts, 415

  And
thaw their frostwork diadems like dew; —

  O ye who float around this clime, and weave

  The garment of the glory which it wears,

  Whose fame, though earth betray the dust it clasped,

  Lies sepulchred in monumental thought; — 420

  Progenitors of all that yet is great,

  Ascribe to your bright senate, O accept

  In your high ministrations, us, your sons —

  Us first, and the more glorious yet to come!

  And ye, weak conquerors! giants who look pale 425

  When the crushed worm rebels beneath your tread,

  The vultures and the dogs, your pensioners tame,

  Are overgorged; but, like oppressors, still

  They crave the relic of Destruction’s feast.

  The exhalations and the thirsty winds 430

  Are sick with blood; the dew is foul with death;

  Heaven’s light is quenched in slaughter: thus, where’er

  Upon your camps, cities, or towers, or fleets,

  The obscene birds the reeking remnants cast

  Of these dead limbs, — upon your streams and mountains, 435

  Upon your fields, your gardens, and your housetops,

  Where’er the winds shall creep, or the clouds fly,

  Or the dews fall, or the angry sun look down

  With poisoned light — Famine, and Pestilence,

  And Panic, shall wage war upon our side! 440

  Nature from all her boundaries is moved

  Against ye: Time has found ye light as foam.

  The Earth rebels; and Good and Evil stake

  Their empire o’er the unborn world of men

  On this one cast; — but ere the die be thrown, 445

  The renovated genius of our race,

  Proud umpire of the impious game, descends,

  A seraph-winged Victory, bestriding

  The tempest of the Omnipotence of God,

  Which sweeps all things to their appointed doom, 450

  And you to oblivion!’ — More he would have said,

  But —

  MAHMUD:

  Died — as thou shouldst ore thy lips had painted

  Their ruin in the hues of our success.

  A rebel’s crime, gilt with a rebel’s tongue!

  Your heart is Greek, Hassan.

  HASSAN:

  It may be so: 455

  A spirit not my own wrenched me within,

  And I have spoken words I fear and hate;

  Yet would I die for —

  MAHMUD:

  Live! oh live! outlive

  Me and this sinking empire. But the fleet —

  HASSAN:

  Alas! —

  MAHMUD:

  The fleet which, like a flock of clouds 460

  Chased by the wind, flies the insurgent banner!

  Our winged castles from their merchant ships!

  Our myriads before their weak pirate bands!

  Our arms before their chains! our years of empire

  Before their centuries of servile fear! 465

  Death is awake! Repulse is on the waters!

  They own no more the thunder-bearing banner

  Of Mahmud; but, like hounds of a base breed,

  Gorge from a stranger’s hand, and rend their master.

  HASSAN:

  Latmos, and Ampelos, and Phanae saw 470

  The wreck —

  MAHMUD:

  The caves of the Icarian isles

  Told each to the other in loud mockery,

  And with the tongue as of a thousand echoes,

  First of the sea-convulsing fight — and, then, —

  Thou darest to speak — senseless are the mountains: 475

  Interpret thou their voice!

  HASSAN:

  My presence bore

  A part in that day’s shame. The Grecian fleet

  Bore down at daybreak from the North, and hung

  As multitudinous on the ocean line,

  As cranes upon the cloudless Thracian wind. 480

  Our squadron, convoying ten thousand men,

  Was stretching towards Nauplia when the battle

  Was kindled. —

  First through the hail of our artillery

  The agile Hydriote barks with press of sail 485

  Dashed: — ship to ship, cannon to cannon, man

  To man were grappled in the embrace of war,

  Inextricable but by death or victory.

  The tempest of the raging fight convulsed

  To its crystalline depths that stainless sea, 490

  And shook Heaven’s roof of golden morning clouds,

  Poised on an hundred azure mountain-isles.

  In the brief trances of the artillery

  One cry from the destroyed and the destroyer

  Rose, and a cloud of desolation wrapped 495

  The unforeseen event, till the north wind

  Sprung from the sea, lifting the heavy veil

  Of battle-smoke — then victory — victory!

  For, as we thought, three frigates from Algiers

  Bore down from Naxos to our aid, but soon 500

  The abhorred cross glimmered behind, before,

  Among, around us; and that fatal sign

  Dried with its beams the strength in Moslem hearts,

  As the sun drinks the dew. — What more? We fled! —

  Our noonday path over the sanguine foam 505

  Was beaconed, — and the glare struck the sun pale, —

  By our consuming transports: the fierce light

  Made all the shadows of our sails blood-red,

  And every countenance blank. Some ships lay feeding

  The ravening fire, even to the water’s level; 510

  Some were blown up; some, settling heavily,

  Sunk; and the shrieks of our companions died

  Upon the wind, that bore us fast and far,

  Even after they were dead. Nine thousand perished!

  We met the vultures legioned in the air 515

  Stemming the torrent of the tainted wind;

  They, screaming from their cloudy mountain-peaks,

  Stooped through the sulphurous battle-smoke and perched

  Each on the weltering carcase that we loved,

  Like its ill angel or its damned soul, 520

  Riding upon the bosom of the sea.

  We saw the dog-fish hastening to their feast.

  Joy waked the voiceless people of the sea,

  And ravening Famine left his ocean cave

  To dwell with War, with us, and with Despair. 525

  We met night three hours to the west of Patmos,

  And with night, tempest —

  MAHMUD:

  Cease!

  [ENTER A MESSENGER.]

  MESSENGER:

  Your Sublime Highness,

  That Christian hound, the Muscovite Ambassador,

  Has left the city. — If the rebel fleet

  Had anchored in the port, had victory 530

  Crowned the Greek legions in the Hippodrome,

  Panic were tamer. — Obedience and Mutiny,

  Like giants in contention planet-struck,

  Stand gazing on each other. — There is peace

  In Stamboul. —

  MAHMUD:

  Is the grave not calmer still? 535

  Its ruins shall be mine.

  HASSAN:

  Fear not the Russian:

  The tiger leagues not with the stag at bay

  Against the hunter. — Cunning, base, and cruel,

  He crouches, watching till the spoil be won,

  And must be paid for his reserve in blood. 540

  After the war is fought, yield the sleek Russian

  That which thou canst not keep, his deserved portion

  Of blood, which shall not flow through streets and fields,

  Rivers and seas, like that which we may win,

  But stagnate in the veins of Christian slaves! 545


  [ENTER SECOND MESSENGER.]

  SECOND MESSENGER:

  Nauplia, Tripolizza, Mothon, Athens,

  Navarin, Artas, Monembasia,

  Corinth, and Thebes are carried by assault,

  And every Islamite who made his dogs

  Fat with the flesh of Galilean slaves 550

  Passed at the edge of the sword: the lust of blood,

  Which made our warriors drunk, is quenched in death;

  But like a fiery plague breaks out anew

  In deeds which make the Christian cause look pale

  In its own light. The garrison of Patras 555

  Has store but for ten days, nor is there hope

  But from the Briton: at once slave and tyrant,

  His wishes still are weaker than his fears,

  Or he would sell what faith may yet remain

  From the oaths broke in Genoa and in Norway; 560

  And if you buy him not, your treasury

  Is empty even of promises — his own coin.

  The freedman of a western poet-chief

  Holds Attica with seven thousand rebels,

  And has beat back the Pacha of Negropont: 565

  The aged Ali sits in Yanina

  A crownless metaphor of empire:

  His name, that shadow of his withered might,

  Holds our besieging army like a spell

  In prey to famine, pest, and mutiny; 570

  He, bastioned in his citadel, looks forth

  Joyless upon the sapphire lake that mirrors

  The ruins of the city where he reigned

  Childless and sceptreless. The Greek has reaped

  The costly harvest his own blood matured, 575

  Not the sower, Ali — who has bought a truce

  From Ypsilanti with ten camel-loads

  Of Indian gold.

  [ENTER A THIRD MESSENGER.]

  MAHMUD:

  What more?

  THIRD MESSENGER:

  The Christian tribes

  Of Lebanon and the Syrian wilderness

  Are in revolt; — Damascus, Hems, Aleppo 580

  Tremble; — the Arab menaces Medina,

  The Aethiop has intrenched himself in Sennaar,

  And keeps the Egyptian rebel well employed,

  Who denies homage, claims investiture

  As price of tardy aid. Persia demands 585

  The cities on the Tigris, and the Georgians

  Refuse their living tribute. Crete and Cyprus,

  Like mountain-twins that from each other’s veins

  Catch the volcano-fire and earthquake-spasm,

  Shake in the general fever. Through the city, 590

  Like birds before a storm, the Santons shriek,

  And prophesyings horrible and new

  Are heard among the crowd: that sea of men

  Sleeps on the wrecks it made, breathless and still.

  A Dervise, learned in the Koran, preaches 595

  That it is written how the sins of Islam

  Must raise up a destroyer even now.

 

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