Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine — Volume 53, No. 328, February, 1843. Various

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      To his dead sire—(the Dorian king)—

      The bright-hair'd Pyrrhus4 pours the wine:—

      "Of every lot that life can bring,

      My soul, great Father, prizes thine.

      Whate'er the goods of earth, of all,

      The highest and the holiest—FAME!

      For when the Form in dust shall fall,

      O'er dust triumphant lives the Name!

      Brave Man, thy light of glory never

      Shall fade, while song to man shall last;

      The Living, soon from earth are pass'd,

      'THE DEAD—ENDURE FOR EVER!'"

      "While silent in their grief and shame,

      The conquer'd hear the conqueror's praise,"

      Quoth Tydeus' son, "let Hector's fame,

      In me, his foe, its witness raise!

      Who, battling for the altar-hearth,

      A brave defender, bravely fell—

      It takes not from the victor's worth,

      If honour with the vanquish'd dwell.

      Who falleth for the altar-hearth,

      A rock and a defence laid low,

      Shall leave behind him, in the foe,

      The lips that speak his worth!"

      Lo, Nestor now, whose stately age

      Through threefold lives of mortals lives!—

      The laurel'd bowl, the kingly sage

      To Hector's tearful mother gives.

      "Drink—in the draught new strength is glowing,

      The grief it bathes forgets the smart!

      O Bacchus! wond'rous boons bestowing,

      Oh how thy balsam heals the heart!

      Drink—in the draught new vigour gloweth,

      The grief it bathes forgets the smart—

      And balsam to the breaking heart,

      The healing god bestoweth.

      "As Niobe, when weeping mute,

      To angry gods the scorn and prey,

      But tasted of the charmed fruit,

      And cast despair itself away;

      So, while unto thy lips, its shore,

      This stream of life enchanted flows,

      Remember'd grief, that stung before,

      Sinks down to Lethè's calm repose.

      So, while unto thy lips, its shore,

      The stream of life enchanted flows—

      Drown'd deep in Lethè's calm repose,

      The grief that stung before!"

      Seized by the god—behold the dark

      And dreaming Prophetess5 arise!

      She gazes from the lofty bark,

      Where Home's dim vapour wraps the skies—

      "A vapour, all of human birth!

      As mists ascending, seen and gone,

      So fade earth's great ones from the earth,

      And leave the changeless gods alone!

      Behind the steed that skirs away,

      Or on the galley's deck—sits Care!

      To-morrow comes—and Life is where?

      At least—we'll live to-day!"