Western union. (City of Hannibal, Mo.) 1850-1851, 1851-08-14
FOR the Western Union
THE CITY OF ARCHIAS.

A mournful plague spot in land so fair?
The peaks Of Etna and the floral plain
Only the tones of festal music hear
Where are the war notes which were wont TO sound,
And wake the echos Of the forests round.
The blue seas foam dashed in the days of yore
On glad Sicila's Island, and that spray
Falls with its murmuring cadence on the shore,
As softly now as in the olden dayj
The waves on Scylla and Charybdis roar;
Those rocks which lift amid the sea their gray
Old heads, as when the TrOjans tiled the main
Their fleets have pershed, but their names remain.
The Sybps rave hath vanished, but the fate
Is left thy portion which her skill fo'e,oid;
The circling years which once oeheid thee great,
Proud city of the Grecian, now behold
Thy glory persisted, and the desoate.
Time, as the destined pages yet unfold,
Sees the fulfllment OF her prophecies,
And mocks and taunts tLee with thy miseries.
The SIRENS song is hushed, but thy distress
IL but the follower Of empty fame;
The thousand woes thy children's walls express,
Sprung from thy old time grandeur-'twas name,
A draught like hers, the ancient sorceress,
Whose taste was pleasant, kndling up flame
To blaze, to flicker, and TO fade in night,
To bring upon thy pow'rs lasting blight.
The hollow songs of pleasure seldom end
Till TO the plants oil agony they turn;
Her wreaths Of verdant weavngs always blend
The cypress to expiring virtues urn
The cleaning lights that on her altars bend,
With false, delusive brightness, always burn,
Till changed TO raging flames, they mock alarms,
As the base serpent stings the breast that warns
The worthy child of Corinth-she that safe
In triumph on her lofty lsthmus throne,
Seeing double gulf beneath her feet;
Filled with the wealth from distant regions blown;
hearing the ocean grOan beneath fleet
Of mighty ships, aud they were all her own
Her wealth, her commerce, and her empire wide,
Have suceumbed 10 the influence Of pride.
And she was brave as brave as thou once vast,
Fer thou hadst tasted the alluring draught
Which Despotism brews to fetter fast
The iated victim Of her willy craft.
Her age Of strength, Of victory has past;
Her day OF triumph saw a rambling shaft
Strike deep and deadly to her breast; the field
OF conquest saw her to q master yield.
And yet her glory cannot be forgot,
Although she sleepeth in eternal rest;
Although her fame be soiled by many blot,
And days of evil darken days more blest.
The child surpassed the mother, and thy lot
Will be remembered, and thy fame expressed,
When Time shall mantle o'er thee his dark pail,
And crush beneath his iron hand, thy wall
Or hast thou chosen still nobler part,
And labored with thy genius yet to find
The airy fancies Of the dreams Of art?
And hast thou striven that thou mightst unbind
The mysteries Of nature and the heart
The secret impulse Of the normal mind?
No sloth hath bound thee, and the soul's defect
Hath marred the working Of the intellect.
The silent rustlng of the evening breeze
Is not so soft SO effeminate
As are the pleasure seeking souls uf those
Who make thee blush 20 call thee parent State.
Where is the spirit Of AIchmides,
Whose genius parried long the blows Of fate?
His wondTous mind hath lighted up flame
Elsewhere, but here is scarcely known his name.
Where are the gorgeous dyes thy painters called
To stand upon the canvass as in life,
And colors deep, until the eye was palled
With gazing on scene SO rich and te?
Where is the marble, which, though has' and cold,
Cheated the fancy into the belief
That living forms the sculpt0r's haud obeyedP-
The marble crumbles and The tablets fade
The rural seats of Enna's fragrant plain;
The shades which over Arethusa hang,
And Etna's groves, where laughing dryads reign,
Echoed the song when Thee critus sang;
The distant wales prolonged the sylvan strain,
And round thy iow'rs Arcadian idyls rang;
But now the tunelul breathings Of the bard,
In fair Sicania are no longer heard
All pomp and beauty hasten TO decay;
The pride of wealth, the panoply Of arms,
A cloud fire aashings, vanish straight away;
But science OF retains her pristine charms,
And even tyrants reverence her swayj
Her light redeems the bosom which II warns,
But gloomy darkness rests upon thy day
A night redeemed not by single ray.
The setting sun shines far more gorously
In his calm, glowing, meditatlve light,
As slowly sets he in the western sea,
Than are the midday besmings, though 80 brish