1822.] 
in her, and breaks forth in a strain of 
inspiration. 
Olybius. Beautiful! what mean’st thou ? 
Why feet thou look to yon bright heaven? What 
- — seest 
That makes thy full eyes kindle as they gaze, 
_Undazzled, on the fiery sky? Give place— > 
Strike off those misplaced fetters from her limbs; 
The sunshine falls around her like a mantle, 
The robes of saffron flame like gold. Give place. 
_ Macer. Great Phoebus conquers! See, she strikes 
the lyre 
With his ecstatic fervour. 
Callias. Peace—oh peace! 
And I shall hear once more before I die 
That voice on which I've lived these long, long 
years. 
Hark, even the winds are mute to hear her. Peace ! 
Marg, What means yon blaze on high ? 
The empyrean sky 
Like the rich veil of some proud fane is rending,' 
Isee the star-paved land, 
Where all the angels stand, 
Eyen to the highest height in burning rows ascend- 
ing ; 
aoe with their wings dispread, 
And bow’d the stately head, 
As on some mission of God’s love departing, 
Like flames from midnight conflagrations starting ; 
Behold! the appointed messengers aie they, 
And nearest earth they wait to waft our souls away . 
Higher and higher still 
More lofty statures fill 
The jasper courts of the everlasting dwelling ; 
Cherub and Seraph pace 
The illimitable space, 
While sleep the folded plumes from their white 
shoulders swelling. 
From all the harping throng 
Bursts the tumultuous song, 
Like the unceasing sounds of cataracts pouring ; 
Hosanna o’er Hosanna louder roaring. 
That faintly echoing down to earthly ears, 
Hath seem’d the consort sweet of the harmonious 
spheres. 
s e * e 2 * 
Beyond! ah, who is there 
With the white snowy air? 
Tis he—’tis he, the Son of Man appearing! 
At the right-hand of One, 
_ The darkness of whose throne 
_ That sun-eyed Seraph Host behold with awe and 
fearing ; 
O’er him the rain-bow springs, 
And spreads its emerald wings, 
Down to the glassy sea his loftiest seat o’er-arching. 
Hark !—thunders from his throne, like steel-clad 
armies marching. 
The Christ! the Christ commands us to his home, 
Jesus, Redeemer, Lord, we come, we come, we 
come! 
The christians are then given into 
the hands of the torturers, and their 
various fates are related by officers who 
enter for that purpose. Olybius awaits 
in anxiety the effect which these scenes 
are to produce on Margarita, and seem- 
ingly aware that he has placed her in 
a very perilous predicament. His ar- 
rangements certainly appear to have 
been but loosely concerted, for a very 
simple circumstance disappoints his 
hopes, and plunges him into a state of 
distraction and remorse, under the in- 
fluence of which he renounces his power 
and his ambition for ever. An officer 
enters amidst fearful shrieks, with an 
aspect of ill omen: 
‘ylius, Speak, and instantly, 
Mr, Milman’s Martyr of Antioch. 
215 
Or I will dash thee down, and trample from thee 
Thy hideous secret, 
Officer. - It is nothing hideons— 
’Tis but the enemy of our faith. She died 
Nobly in truth—but—— 
Cailias. Dead! she is not dead! 
Thou liest! I have his oath—the Prefect’s oath ; 
I had forgot it in my fears, but now 
I well remember, that she should not die. 
Faugh! whowill trust in Gods and men like these ? 
Olybius. Slave! slave! dost mock me? Beiter 
*twere for thee 
That this be false, than if thou’dst found a treasure 
To purchase kingdoms. 
Officer. Here me but a while. 
She had beheld each sad and cruel death, 
And if she shudder’d, ’twas as one that strives 
With nature’s soft infirmity of pity, 
One look to heaven restoring all her calmness ; 
Save when that dastard did renounce his faith, 
And she shed tears for him. Then led they forth 
Old Fabius. When a quick and sudden cry 
Of Callias, and a parting in the throng, 
Proclaim’d her father’s coming. Forth she sprang, 
And clasp’d the frowning headsman’s knees, and said, 
“Thou know’st me, when thou laid’st on thy sick 
bed, 
Christ sent me there to wipe thy burning brow 
There was an infant play’d about thy chamber, 
And my pale cheek would smile and weep atonce, 
Gazing upon that almost orphkan’d child. 
Oh! by its dear and precious memory, 
I do beseech thee slay me first, and quickly: 
Tis that my father may not see my death.” 
—With that the headsman wip’d from his swarth 
cheeks 
A moisture like to tears. But she meanwhile, 
On the cold block composed ber head, and cross’d 
Her hands upon her bosom, that scarce heav’d, 
She was so tranquil; cautious, lest her garments 
Should play the traitors to her modest care. 
And as the cold wind touch’d her naked neck, 
And fann’d away the few unbraided hairs, 
Blushes o’erspread her face, and she look’d up 
As softly to reproaeh his tardiness : 
Andsome fell Nera upon their knees, some clasp’d 
Their hands, enamour’d even to adoration 
Gf that half-smiling face and bending form. — 
Callias. But he—but he—the savage executioner. 
Officer. He trembled. 
Callias. Ha! Gou’s blessing on his head! 
And the exe slid from out his palsied hand ? 
Officer. He gave it to another. 
Callias. And—— 
Officer. It fell. 
Callias. I see it, , 
I see it like the lightning flash. I see it, 
And the blood bursts—my hlood—my daughter's 
blood ! 
Off—let me loose. 
Officer. Where goest thou ? 
Callias. To the Christian, 
To learn the faith in which my daughter died, 
And follow heras quickly as I may. : 
The death of the lovely martyr is 
represented as effecting a sudden change 
in the feelings of the people, who join 
the surviving christians in honouring 
her remains; and the volume closes 
with a triumphal hymn, conceived in a 
high and sustained spirit of enthusiasm. 
Mr. Milman may assure himself of a 
considerable addition to his well-earned 
reputation from this performance. It 
is.a stately, graceful, and vigorous pro- 
duction ; the offspring of very consi- 
derable natural talents, refined and 
cultivated by industry and by art. 
With much of the powers, he has none 
of the eccentricities of genius; and pos- 
sesses, in as much perfection as ey 
e 
