No More Learning

But tell me (if your guide allow a space
The semblance of those tendant shades to trace)
The names and fortunes of the following pair
Who seem the noblest gifts of mind to share. "--
"My name," he said, "you seem to know so well
That faithful Memory all the rest can tell;
But as the sad detail may soothe my woes,
Listen, while I my mournful doom disclose:--
To Rome and Scipio's cause my faith was bound,
E'en Laelius scarce a warmer friendship own'd:
Where'er their ensigns fann'd the summer sky,
I led my Libyans on, a firm ally;
Propitious Fortune still advanced his name,
Yet more than she bestow'd, his worth might claim.
Still we advanced, and still our glory grew
While westward far the Roman eagle flew
With conquest wing'd; but my unlucky star
Led me, unconscious, to the fatal snare
Which Love had laid. I saw the regal dame--
Our hearts at once confess'd a mutual flame.
Caught by the lure of interdicted joys,
Proudly I scorn'd the stern forbidding voice
Of Roman policy; and hoped the vows
At Hymen's altar sworn, might save my spouse.
But, oh! that wondrous man, who ne'er would yield
To passion's call, the cruel sentence seal'd,
That tore my consort from my fond embrace,
And left me sunk in anguish and disgrace.
Unmoved he saw my briny sorrows flow,
Unmoved he listen'd to my tale of woe!
But friendship, waked at last, with reverent awe,
Obsequious, own'd his mind's superior law;
And to that holy and unclouded light,
That led him on through passion's dubious night,
Submiss I bow'd; for, oh! the beam of day
Is dark to him that wants her guiding ray! --
Love, hardly conquer'd, long repined in vain,
When Justice link'd the adamantine chain;
And cruel Friendship o'er the conquer'd ground
Raised with strong hand th' insuperable mound.
To him I owed my laurels nobly won--
I loved him as a brother, sire, and son,
For in an equal race our lives had run;
Yet the sad price I paid with burning tears;--
Dire was the cause that woke my gloomy fears!
Too well the sad result my soul divined,
Too well I knew the unsubmitting mind
Of Sophonisba would prefer the tomb
To stern captivity's ignoble doom.
I, too, sad victim of celestial wrath,
Was forced to aid the tardy stroke of death:
With pangs I yielded to her piercing cries,
To speed her passage to the nether skies;
And worse than death endured, her mind to save
From shame, more hateful than the yawning grave. --
What was my anguish, when she seized the bowl,
She knows!
and you, whose sympathising soul
Has felt the fiery shaft, may guess my pains--
Now tears and anguish are her sole remains.
That treasure, to preserve my faith to Rome,
Those hands committed to th' untimely tomb;
And every hope and joy of life resign'd
To keep the stain of falsehood from my mind.
But hasten, and the moving pomp survey,
(The light-wing'd moments brook no long delay),
To try if any form your notice claims
Among those love-lorn youths and amorous dames. "--
With poignant grief I heard his tale of woe,
That seem'd to melt my heart like vernal snow,
When a low voice these sullen accents sung:--
"Not for himself, but those from whom he sprung,
He merits fate; for I detest them all
To whose fell rage I owe my country's fall. "
"Oh, calm your rage, unhappy Queen! " I cried;
"Twice was the land and sea in slaughter dyed
By cruel Carthage, till the sentence pass'd
That laid her glories in the dust at last. "--
"Yet mournful wreaths no less the victors crown'd;
In deep despair our valour oft they own'd.
Your own impartial annals yet proclaim
The Punic glory and the Roman shame. "
She spoke--and with a smile of hostile spite
Join'd the deep train, and darken'd to my sight.
Then, as a traveller through lands unknown
With care and keen observance journeys on;
Whose dubious thoughts his eager steps retard,
Thus through the files I pass'd with fix'd regard;
Still singling some amid the moving show,
Intent the story of their loves to know.
A spectre now within my notice came,
Though dubious marks of joy, commix'd with shame,
His features wore, like one who gains a boon
With secret glee, which shame forbids to own,
O dire example of the Demon's power!
The father leaves the hymeneal bower
For his incestuous son; the guilty spouse
With transport mix'd with honour, meets his vows!
In mournful converse now, amidst the host,
Their compact they bewail'd, and Syria lost!
Instant, with eager step, I turn'd aside,
And met the double husband, and the bride,
And with an earnest voice the first address'd:--
A look of dread the spectre's face express'd,
When first the accents of victorious Rome
Brought to his mind his kingdom's ancient doom.
At length, with many a doleful sigh, he said,
"You here behold Seleucus' royal shade.
Antiochus is next; his life to save,
My ready hand my beauteous consort gave,
(From me, whose will was law, a legal prize,)
That bound our souls in everlasting ties
Indissolubly strong.