HELLAS.
15
And yet the harvest to the sicklemen
Is as a grain to each.
Is as a grain to each.
Mahmud.
Then, take this signet,
Unlock the seventh chamber in which lie
The treasures of victorious Solyman.
An empire’s spoil stored for a day of ruin.
O spirit of my sires! is it not come?
The prey-birds and the wolves are gorged and sleep;
But these, who spread their feast on the red earth,
Hunger for gold, which fills not.—See them fed;
Then, lead them to the rivers of fresh death.
(Exit Daood.
O miserable dawn, after a night
More glorious than the day which it usurp'd!
O, faith in God! O, power on earth! O, word
Of the great prophet, whose o’ershadowing wings
Darken'd the thrones and idols of the West,
Now bright!—For thy sake cursed be the hour,
Even as a father by an evil child,
When the Orient moon of Islam roll'd in triumph
From Caucasus to White Ceraunia!
Ruin above, and anarchy below;
Terror without, and treachery within;
The Chalice of destruction full, and all
Thirsting to drink; and who among us dares
To dash it from his lips? and where is Hope?
Then, take this signet,
Unlock the seventh chamber in which lie
The treasures of victorious Solyman.
An empire’s spoil stored for a day of ruin.
O spirit of my sires! is it not come?
The prey-birds and the wolves are gorged and sleep;
But these, who spread their feast on the red earth,
Hunger for gold, which fills not.—See them fed;
Then, lead them to the rivers of fresh death.
(Exit Daood.
O miserable dawn, after a night
More glorious than the day which it usurp'd!
O, faith in God! O, power on earth! O, word
Of the great prophet, whose o’ershadowing wings
Darken'd the thrones and idols of the West,
Now bright!—For thy sake cursed be the hour,
Even as a father by an evil child,
When the Orient moon of Islam roll'd in triumph
From Caucasus to White Ceraunia!
Ruin above, and anarchy below;
Terror without, and treachery within;
The Chalice of destruction full, and all
Thirsting to drink; and who among us dares
To dash it from his lips? and where is Hope?
