The poets of the nineteenth century

This historic book may have numerous typos, missing text, images, or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1886. Not illustrated. Excerpt: ... Like them, to the home of my youth, Like them, to its shades I retire; Receive me, and shield my vex'd spirit, ye groves, From the pangs of insulted desire! To thy rocks, stormy Lannow, adieu 1 DARWIN. MARCH OF CAMBYSES. When Heaven's dread justice smites in crimes o'ergrown The blood-nurs'd tyrant on his purple throne, Gnomes! your bold forms unnumber'd arms outstretch, And urge the vengeance o'er the guilty wretch. Thus when Cambyses led his barbarous hosts From Persia's rocks to Egypt's trembling coasts, Defiled each hallow'd fane, and sacred wood, And, drunk with fury, swell'd the Nile with blood; Wav'd his proud banner o'er the Theban states, And pour'd destruction through her hundred gates; In dread divisions march'd the marshall'd bands, And swarming armies blacken'd all the lands, By Memphis these to Ethiop's sultry plains, And those to Ammon's sand-encircled fanes. Slow as they pass'd the indignant temples frown'd, Low curses muttering from the vaulted ground; Long aisles of cypress wav'd their deepen'd glooms, And quivering spectres grinn'd amid the tombs; Prophetic whispers breath'd from Sphinx's tongue, And Memnon's lyre with hollow murmurs rung: Burst from each pyramid expiring groans, And darker shadows stretch'd their lengthen'd cones. Day after day their dreadful rout they steer, Lust in the van, and rapine in the rear. Gnomes! as they march'd, you hid the gather'd fruits, The bladed grass, sweet grains, and mealy roots; Scar'd the tired quails, that journey o'er their heads, Retain'd the locusts in their earthy beds; Bade on your sands no night-born dews distil, Stay'd with vindictive hands the scanty rill. Loud o'er the camp the fiend of Famine shrieks, Calls all her brood, and champs her hundred beaks; O'er ten square leagues her penn...