And fell the statues from their niche, The cup of consecrated gold; Converted by Christ to his blood so divine, Which his worshippers drank at the break of day, And round the sacred table glow A spoil-the richest, and the last. XXXIII. So near they came, the nearest stretch'd Touch'd with the torch the train "Tis fired! Spire, vaults, the shrine, the spoil, the slain, In one wild roar expired! The shatter'd town-the walls thrown down The waves a moment backward bent- As if an earthquake pass'd The thousand shapeless things all driven Proclaim'd the desperate conflict o'er Down the ashes shower like rain; Some fell in the gulf, which received the sprinkles With a thousand circling wrinkles; Some fell on the shore, but, far away, Scatter'd o'er the isthmus lay; Christian or Moslem, which be they? On the sweet sleep of her child, All blacken'd there and reeking lay. The clouds beneath him seem'd so dun; PARISINA ΤΟ SCROPE BERDMORE DAVIES, ESQ., THE FOLLOWING POEM IS INSCRIBED BY ONE WHO HAS LONG ADMIRED HIS TALENTS AND VALUED HIS FRIENDSHIP. January 22, 1816. ADVERTISEMENT. THE following poem is grounded on a circumstance mentioned in Gibbon's "Antiquities of the House of Brunswick." I am aware that in modern times the delicacy or fastidiousness of the reader may deem such subjects unfit for the purposes of poetry. The Greek dramatists, and some of the best of our old English writers, were of a different opinion: as Alfieri and Schiller have also been, more recently, upon the Continent. The following extract will explain the facts on which the story is founded. The name of Azo is substituted for Nicholas, as more metrical. "Under the reign of Nicholas III. Ferrara was polluted with a domestic tragedy. By the testimony of an attendant, and his own observation, the Marquis of Este discovered the incestuous loves of his wife Parisina and Hugo his bastard son, a beautiful and valiant youth. They were beheaded in the castle by the sentence of a father and husband, who published his shame, and survived their execution. He was unfortunate, if they were guilty: if they were innocent, he was still more unfortunate; nor is there any possible situation in which I can sincerely approve the last act of the justice of a parent."-GIBBON'S Miscellaneous Works, vol. iii. p. 470. PARISINA. I. IT is the hour when from the boughs Seem sweet in every whisper'd word; And in the heaven that clear obscure, Which follows the decline of day, As twilight melts beneath the moon away.* II. But it is not to list to the waterfall That Parisina leaves her hall, And it is not to gaze on the heavenly light "Tis not for the sake of its full-blown flower- There glides a step through the foliage thick, And her cheek grows pale-and her heart beats quick. There whispers a voice through the rustling leaves, And her blush returns, and her bosom heaves; A moment more-and they shall meet- "Tis past her lover's at her feet. III. And what unto them is the world beside, The lines contained in this section were printed as set to music some time since, but belonged to the poem where they now appear; the greater part of which was composed prior to "Lara."-B. |