THE PHANTOM LAND. 411 



" I who have won for Greece an emperor's crown ; 



I who have dared to do what no one durst ; 



I who have hurled the pride of Asia down, 



And all the cohorts of the foe dispersed ; 



I who have earned a title to renown, 



Which nothing can obliterate or drown ; 



I here am pining with despair and thirst ! 



" I here am pining- with despair and thirst, 

 Who died of surfeit in my youthful prime ! 

 Self-ruined, self-defeated, self-accursed. 

 Farewell to all my schemes of the sublime ; 

 Farewell to all, the hopes that I have nursed ; 

 Glory farewell ! loved best, and valued first 

 The path that leads to glory, leads to crime." 



Deeply was I afflicted when I heard 



These plaintive tones of greatness in distress ; 



As yet my lips had uttered not a word 



But now, no longer able to suppress 



The thoughts and sensibilities which stirred 



My soul within me, and my courage spurred, 



I ventured thus the angel to address : 



" O thou benignant Being ! who has brought 

 My footsteps here, unworthy should I be 

 If I unmoved, unedified, untaught, 

 Could hear what I have heard see what I see ; 

 These sights are fearful sights, surpassing thought. 

 Sustain me with thy hand or I am nought, 

 And from the bond of fear my spirit free." 



" Take courage/' he replied, with kindly haste, 



And I took courage. " A wise man," said he, 



" Will suck the honey Wisdom from a waste 



On which a fool would perish. It may be 



That thou hast now enough of terrors faced, 



And wouldst return ? Our steps are soon retraced." 



I answered I would wish yet more to see. 



With that the angel took me by the hand, 



And led me onward o'er the gloomy plain ; 



The air breathed hot, and arid was the sand, 



Cooled never, never by refreshing rain ; 



The torrid air no gentle breezes fanned, 



No brook ran by ; but through the thirsty land 



Rolled that bright river down its course in vain. 



Far round, the apparitions of the dead 



Were dimly visible athwart the gloom, 



Shadows that once wore crowns in ages fled, 



And wielded mightiest sceptres, and the doom ^ 



Of prostrate nations thundered ; while the red 



Lightnings of battle filled all hearts with dread ; 



Making each furrow of the plough a tomb. 



