The New Orleans daily Democrat. [volume] (New Orleans, La.) 1877-1880, 1877-08-26

IN IL w OhLhAND DNMOOI
master mind so unmistakable. We may
at least convey some impressions to our
readers OF Its strength and beauty by
few Of It's grand images and thoughts:
Alas for proud Byzantiuml On her head
The fire may shoulder and the foe may tread
Yet with heroic look and Lovely form
She mprks the deep, unconscious Of the storm
Her footstool is the shore, which hears the
| Of dying waves-the mountain is her throne.
Her princaly minareis, whose spires on high
CLEAN with their crescpns in the coude 8 sky:
Her donies that back watd flash the living ray:
Her cool kiosks round which from granite
High sparkling fountains catch rainbow light,
And the dark cypress sombre and o'ercas.
winch speaks the sleep the longest and the
Each scene around the naughty city throws
mingled charm OF action and rspose:
Each feature breathes of glory wrapt in gloom
The feast, the shroud the palace and the tombl
It was by his electric power that
Byron thrilled every fibre of the human
heart and filled all souls with lightning
splendor. But there 10 an intenser depth
and more magnificent energy in many
OF the superb lines of "Byzantium
than in anything Of Byron. It contains
none Of the Byronic frenzy, and is
wholly free from the all pervading ego
which rendered the greatest English
man Of his time mark for raillery.
Following the above matchless des-
scription are clusters Of magnificent
imagery, on which the power Of Ian
guage and of thought are alike ex-
hausted. A very rain Of glowing beau
ties, which we cannot preserve for want
of space, depict the wealth and glory Of
the renowned city Of the Bosphorus:
| The costly treasures of the marble isle.
| The spice of Ind the riches of the Nile.
| The stores OF EARTH like streams that seek the
Poured cut the tribute Of hair wealth To thee
How. proud was thy dominion States and kings
Slept meath the shadow of thine outstretehed
| wings.
To the expression of our regret at not
having the space to revive this glorious
poem, unbrolen and entire. we can but
add our desire to furnish to our readers
as many Of its sounding sentences in
the grand descriptive march of destiny
as our crowded columns can admit
Among the literary trash and tinsel of
the time, could no enterprising pub
Usher find either courage or encourage
ment to reproduce in fitting style one Of
| the most powerful and superb poems of
the century.
| Alas 0hat peace SO gentle, hope so fair,
| Should make but strife and herald but despair.
Oh thine, Byzantium, thine were bitter tears,
| A couch of fever and a throne Of fears.
| When Passion drugged the bowl and flashed
When Murder followed in the track of Zeal
| When that Religion. born to guide and bless,
itself became perverse and merciless,
And factions Of the circus and the shrine,
And lords like slaves and slaves like lords were
Then did thy empire sink in slow decay;
Then were its stately branches torn away:
And thou. exposed and stripped, vert left in
70 bear the lightnipgs on thy naked head. &
Yet for season did the Moslem's hand
Win II tn st to an aspect OF command.
Let Syria Egypt tell, let Pers rs sh me-
Let naughty re- nhods sas namG
We're we, to serve her, impotent to save.
Zeal in the rear and valor in the van
Spread far the flats OF thy sage divan.
tn stretched the scegtre Of Thy tSs NJ, awhe
Brief transitory gloryl III the day,
Foul thy dishonor when in Corinths bay
Meath the rich sun trMnmphantt Y nice spread
When proud Vienna's 'saulting troops were
seen,
When Zenta's laurels decked the brave Eugene
When the great Shepherd led the Pers an van
And Cyrus lived again in Kouli Khan;
And last and most when freedom spurned the
yoke,
And tyrants trembled. as the Greeks awoke.
Now 10y to Greece. the genius of her cline
| Shall cast his gauntlet at the tyrant Time.
And wake again the valor and the fire
Which rears the trophy and attunes the Tyre.
Ye sea -girt shrines Of battle and of songl
Ye clustering isles that by the Egean press'd
} | In sunshine slumber on her dark blue breast!
Land Of the brave, athwart whose gloomy
night
Breaks the bright dawn, red harbinger of light
May glory now efface each blot of shame,
May Freedoms torch yet light thy path to
fame: ,,
May hristian truth, in this thy sacred birth. .
| Add strength to empire give to wisdom worth
, And with the rich-fraught hopes OF coming
|, years :,
Inspire thy triumphs while 1t dries thy tears!
/