Of wondrous languishment: thou whose great power Brings up the sea-maids from each ocean-bower, O, come, and ere our festival be done, O, thou who once didst weep, and with sad tears And, as thy light wheels roll, from us remove Lo, we have many kinds of incense here And hither turn, with thine own matchless grace, THE PARTHENON. BY MRS. HEMANS. FAIR Parthenon! yet still must fancy weep ཀ Empires have sunk since thou wert first revered, And varying rites have sanctified thy shrine. The dust is round thee of the race that reared Thy walls; and thou-their fate must soon be thine! But when shall earth again exult to see Visions divine, like theirs, renewed in ought like thee? Lone are thy pillows now-each passing gale Sighs o'er them as a spirit's voice, which moaned That loneliness, and told the plaintive tale Of the bright synod once above them throned. Mourn, graceful ruin! on thy sacred hill. Thy gods, thy rites, a kindred fate have shared : Yet thou art honoured in each fragment still That wasting years and barbarous hands had spared; Each hallowed stone, from rapine's fury borne, Shall wake bright dreams of thee in ages yet unborn. Yes; in these fragments, though by time defaced, E'en thus the essential energy of Art There in each wreck imperishably glows! The soul of Athens lives in every line, Pervading brightly still the ruins of her shrine. Mark on the storied frieze the graceful train, With many a sacred symbol, move along. The ardent warrior, the benignant sage; The nymph's light symmetry, the chief's proud mien ; Each ray of beauty caught and mingled in the scene. Art, unobtrusive, there ennobles form; Each pure chaste outline exquisitely flows; There, e'en the steed, with bold expression warm, Is clothed with majesty, with being glows. One mighty mind hath harmonized the whole; These varied groups the same bright impress bear; One beam and essence of exalting soul Lives in the grand, the delicate, and fair; And well that pageant of the glorious dead Blends us with nobler days, and loftier spirits fled. O, conquering Genius! that couldst thus retain And when thy hand first gave its wonders birth, The realms that hail them now, scarce claimed a name on earth. Wert thou some spirit of a purer sphere But once beheld, and never to return? No-we may hail again thy bright career, Again on earth a kindred fire shall burn! Though thy least relics, e'en in ruin, bear A stamp of heaven that ne'er hath been renewed A light inherent-let not man despair; Still be hope ardent, patience unsubdued; For still is nature fair, and thought divine, And art hath won a world in models pure as thine. Gaze on yon forms, corroded and defaced- a |