Martinsburgh gazette. [volume] (Martinsburgh, Va. [W. Va.]) 1810-1825, 1823-04-17
POETRY.

taken from the Monthly Magazine for Janr
ry, are we learn, from the pen of profess
Everi,t, Of Boston. <efe'sb"y Int.
DlRGE OF ALARiC, THE vISIGoTH,
Who stormed and spoiled the city of Rom
and was afterwards buried in the channel
The river Pusentius, the water Of which h
been diverted from the course that the bo
might be inferred.
when am dead, TO pageant train
Shall waste their sorrows at my bier,
Nor worthlass pompt of homage VAIN
Strain it with hypocrltic tears
For | will die as did live,
Nor take the boon cannot give.
Yc shall not raise a marble bust
Uaon the spot where irepose;
Ye shall not fawn before my dust,
In hollow circumstance OF woes ;
Nor sc,lptmed clay, with living breath,
Insult the clay that moulds beneath.
ye shall not Pile with sersbe toll
Your monuments upon my preasti
Nor yet within the common soil
Lay down the wreck Of Power TO resti
Where man can boast that he has trod
On him, that was 'the scourge OF Cod"
but ve mountain tream shall turn.
And lay it's secret channel bare,
And hollow for sour soyerign's urn,
A resting place for ever there:
Then bid its everlasting springs
Flow back upon the king OF klngs;
And never be the secret SAID,
Until the deep give up his dead.
NY gold and silver ye shall Hing
Back 20 the clods that gave them brths
The captured crowns of many king,
The ransom Of a conquered earth
For e'em though dead viii l control
The trophies OF the capitol.
But when, beneath the rhsuntain tide,
Ye've laid your monarch down to rot
Ye shall not rear upon its side
Pillar nor mound to mark the spot;
For long enough the world has shook
Beneath the terIors ofmy look;
And row that lIave run my race,
The as,onish'd realms shall have space
NV course vas like the river deep,
And from the northern hills burst,
Across the world in wrath to sweep,
And where went the spot WAS cursed,
Nor blade grass again was seen
Where Akric and his hosts bad been.
Sec how their naughty barriers fail
Beneath the terror OF the Goth,
Their iron breasted legions quail
Before my ruthless sabot b,
And low the Queen of empiI es knees,
And eroyals II my chafiot5eheeA
Not for myself did ascend
In judgment my trinmphsl ear;
'Twas God alone on, high did send
The avengng Soyihlan to war,
To shake abroad, With iron hand,
The appointed acourge Of his command,
With iron hand that scourge reared
Der guilty king and guilty realm,
Destruction WAS the ship steered
And Vengeance Sal upon the helm;
When launched in fury on the flood,
! ploughed my cay tkro' seas Of blood,
And in their hearts had split
Washe d out the long arrears OF Euiit.
Across the everlasting Alp
poured the torrent OF my powers,
And feeble Csrcars shook tor help
In vain within their seven hlifd towers
quenched in blood ,he brightest gem
That glttered in their diadem,
And struck darker. deeper dye
In the purple Of their majesty,
And babe my northern banners shine
Upon the conquered Pal.tine.
NY course is run, my errand done,
60 to him & om whoml csmes
But never yet shall set the sun
OF glory that storms my name,
And Roman hearts shall long be sick
When men shall think OF Alaric,
Ny course IS run, my errand done
But darker ministers OF hate
Impatient round the eternal throne
Andin the caves OF vengence waits
And soon making shall blench away
Before the name of Attila.