Martinsburg gazette. [volume] (Martinsburg, Va. [W. Va.]) 1833-1855, 1835-07-02
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3a0etrt,.
ALARIC THE GOTH.

So The fcrocIOus character VI tH0
was displayed 10 the funeral OF hero, whose
yalor and fortune they celebrated with mourniul
applause. By the labor Of the captive multitude
they foreiblv diverted the course Of the Bnsen-
thus small river that washes the walls OF Con-
srotia The royal scpulchre, adorned with the
spoils and trophies Of Rome, was constructed in
the vacant bed the waters restored TO their nat
ural channel and the secret spot where the re-
mains of Alaric have been deposited, was forev-
or concealed by the inhuman massacre Of the
prisoners who had been employed TO execute
the work." GiBBos.
The following lines that breathe, written BY
the Hon. Edward Everett, are commemorative
OF the historical fact.
WhenI am dead, no pageant train
Shall waste their sorrows at m, bier,
Nor worthless pomp Of homage vain
Stain with hypocritic tear;
For will die as did live.
Nor take the boon cannot give
We shall not raise marble bust,
Upon the spot where / repose;
We shall not fawn before my dust,
In hollow circumstance OF woes;
Nor scnlptured clay, with lying breath,
Insult the clay that moulds beneath.
We shall not pile, with seryle toll,
Your monuments upon my breast;
Nor yet within the common soil
Lay down the wreck Of power 10 rest;
Where man can boast that he has frod
On him who was the " Scourge Of Cod"
But ye the mountain strean, shall turn.
And lay its secret channel bare,
And hollow for your sovereign's urn,
A resting place for ever there,
Then bid its everlasting springs
Flow back upon the King Of Kings
And never be the secret said,
Until the deep give up its dead.
MY gold and silver We shall fling
Back to the clods that gave them birth,
The captured crown Of many king,
The ransom of a conquered earth !;
For cen though dead will ! control
The trophies OF the capitol.
But when beneath the mountain tide.
You've laid your monarch down TO rot,
We shall not rear upon its side
Pillar nor mound to mark the spot;
For long enough the world has shook,
Beneath the terror Of my look
And now that have run my race,
The astonished realms shall rest a space.
My course was like river deep,
Aud from the pathless hills burst,
Across the worlds IN wrath TO sweep,
Aud where went the spot was curs'd;
Nor blade Of grass again was
Where Alaric and his hosts have been.
See how their naughty barriers fail
Beneath the terror If the Goth,
The Iron breasted legons quail
Before ray ruthless Sabaoth;
And low the Queen ui Empire" knecls,
And groyels at my chariot wheels.
With iron hand the scoarge reared
Ger guilty king and guilty realm
Destruction was the ship steered,
And Vengeance sat upon the helms
4 hfsd ia urxy h.
Ipluughed my way through seas of blood
And in the streams their hearts had split
Washed Out their long arrears Of guilt
Across the everlasting Alp
poured the torrent Of my powers,
And feeble Caesars shrickcd for help
In vain within their sevcn-hiied towers;
qnenehcd in blood the brightest gem
That sparkled in their diadem-
And struck darker, deeper dye
ia the purple Of their majesty
And babe my northern banners shine
Upon Iho conquered Palaline.
My course is rvn my errand done,
] go 10 him from whom came,
But never more shall set the sun
or glory that adorns my name
And Roman hearts shall long be sick,
When men shall think of Aaric.
My course is run, my GRAND done
But darker ministers Of fate
Impatient round the eternal throne,
And in the caves OF Vengeance wait;
And soon mankind shall blanch away,
Before the name Of Attia.