POETRY. 675 



And round each ankle floats ; a purple belt 



Invests his ample waist, bearing the load 



Of pistol and of studded yatagan. 



One hand sustains his pipe and one adjusts 



The yellow robe, which from his shoulders broad 



Sweeping in graceful folds, now shows and now 



Conceals the manly texture of his form. 



'Tis his delight beneath a canopy 



Of interwoven vines, upon his mat 



To pass the sultry hours, inhaling fumes 



Of fragrant leaf, and supping the dark stream 



Of Mocha's berry ; he, so occupied. 



Recks not of toil, of danger, or of war. 



And hears unmoved how Russia's hardy sons 



Launch their red thunders o'er the Danau's wave. 



Hence turn your gaze — the low degen'rate race 



Claims not another thought ; but we will search 



The monuments of time ; and there peruse 



Those forms of genius which in vain we seek 



Amidst the living tenants, firmly traced 



On lifeless marble, and on sculptured stone : 



In them a spirit still survives, in them 



The soul of Athens seems to live again. 



Here let us pause, e'en at the vestibule 

 Of Theseus' fane — with what stern majesty 

 It rears its pond'rous and eternal strength. 

 Still perfect, still unchanged, as on the day 

 When the assembled throng of multitudes 

 With shouts proclaim'd th' accomplish'd work, and fell 

 Prostrate upon their faces to adore 

 Its marble s|)lendor. How the golden gleam 

 Of noonday floats upon its graceful form. 

 Tinging each grooved shaft, and storied frize 

 And Doric trigliph ! How the rays amidst 

 The op'niug columns glanced from point to point, 

 Stream down the gloom of the long portico ; 

 Where, link'd in moving mazes, youths and maids 

 Lead the light dance, as erst in joyous hour 

 Of festival ! how the broad pediment, 

 Embrown'd with shadow, frowns above and spreada^ 

 Solemnity and reverential awe! 

 Proud monument of old magnificence ! 

 Still thou survivest, nor has envious Time 

 Impair'd thy beauty, save that it has spread 

 A deeper tint, and dimm'd the polish'd glare 

 Of thy refulgent whiteness. Let mine eyes 

 Feast on thy form, and find at ev'ry glance 

 Themes for imagination and for thought. 



