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His autograph upon this page.
And o'er the waves of time be bound-
Stood pretty boys, like smiling Cupids,
With diverse-colored fans, whose wind did seem To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool
And what they undid, did. Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes,
And made their bends adornings: at the helm
A seeming mermaid steers; the silken tackles
Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands,
That yarely frame the office. From the barge A strange invisible perfume hits the
Of the adjacent wharfs. The city
Her people out upon her; and Antony, Enthroned in the market-place, did sit alone,
Whistling to the air; which, but for vacancy,
Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra
And made a gap in nature.
And the headsman with his bare arm ready,
That the blow may be both swift and steady,
Feels if the axe be sharp and true-
To see the son fall by the doom of the father.
It is a lovely hour as yet
He died, as erring man should die,
FROM THE SIEGE OF CORINTH.
THE night is past, and shines the
As if that morn were a jocund
and brightly breaks
And the moon will look on a
Hark to the trump, and the drum,
And the mournful sound of the barbarous horn,
And the flap of the banners, that flit as they're borne,
And the neigh of the steed, and the multitude's hum,
And the clash, and the shout, "They come, they come!"
The horse-tails are plucked from the ground, and the sword From its sheath; and they form, and but wait for the word.
So is the blade of his scimitar; The Khan and his pachas are all at their post:
The vizier himself at the head of the host.
When the culverin's signal is fired, then On!
Leave not in Corinth a living oneA priest at her altars, a chief in her halls,
A hearth in her mansions, a stone on her walls.
God and the prophet — Alla Hu!
There the breach lies for passage, the ladder to scale;
And your hands on your sabres, and how should ye fail?
He who first downs with the red cross may crave
His heart's dearest wish; let him ask it, and have!" Thus uttered Coumourgi, the dauntless vizier;
The reply was the brandish of sabre and spear, And the shout of fierce thousands in joyous ire: Silence-hark to the signal
- fire! BYRON.