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(From Liberty)
AMID the hoary ruins, sculpture first, | |
| Deep digging, from the cavern dark and damp, | |
| Their grave for ages, bid her marble race | |
| Spring to new light. Joy sparkled in her eyes, | |
| And old remembrance thrilled in every thought, | 5 |
| As she the pleasing resurrection saw, | |
| In leaning site, respiring from his toils, | |
| The well-known Hero, who delivered Greece, | |
| His ample chest, all tempested with force, | |
| Unconquerable reared. She saw the head, | 10 |
| Breathing the hero, small, of Grecian size, | |
| Scarce more extensive than the sinewy neck: | |
| The spreading shoulders, muscular and broad; | |
| The whole a mass of swelling sinews, touched | |
| Into harmonious shape; she saw, and joyed. | 15 |
| The yellow hunter, Meleager, raised | |
| His beauteous front, and through the finished whole | |
| Shows what ideas smiled of old in Greece. | |
| Of raging aspect, rushed impetuous forth | |
| The Gladiator: pitiless his look, | 20 |
| And each keen sinew braced, the storm of war, | |
| Ruffling, o’er all his nervous body frowns. | |
| The dying other from the gloom she drew: | |
| Supported on his shortened arm he leans, | |
| Prone, agonizing; with incumbent fate, | 25 |
| Heavy declines his head; yet dark beneath | |
| The suffering feature sullen vengeance lowers, | |
| Shame, indignation, unaccomplished rage, | |
| And still the cheated eye expects his fall. | |
| All conquest-flushed, from prostrate Python, came | 30 |
| The quivered god. In graceful act he stands, | |
| His arm extended with the slackened bow: | |
| Light flows his easy robe, and fair displays | |
| A manly, softened form. The bloom of gods | |
| Seems youthful o’er the beardless cheek to wave: | 35 |
| His features yet heroic ardor warms; | |
| And sweet subsiding to a native smile, | |
| Mixed with the joy elating conquest gives, | |
| A scattered frown exalts his matchless air. | |
| On Flora moved; her full proportioned limbs | 40 |
| Rise through the mantle fluttering in the breeze. | |
| The Queen of Love arose, as from the deep | |
| She sprung in all the melting pomp of charms. | |
| Bashful she bands, her well-taught look aside | |
| Turns in enchanting guise, where dubious mix | 45 |
| Vain conscious beauty, a dissembled sense | |
| Of modest shame, and slippery looks of love. | |
| The gazer grows enamored, and the stone, | |
| As if exulting in its conquest, smiles. | |
| So turned each limb, so swelled with softening art, | 50 |
| That the deluded eye the marble doubts. | |
| At last her utmost masterpiece she found, | |
| That Maro fired; the miserable sire, | |
| Wrapt with his sons in fate’s severest grasp: | |
| The serpents, twisting round, their stringent folds | 55 |
| Inextricable tie. Such passion here, | |
| Such agonies, such bitterness of pain, | |
| Seem so to tremble through the tortured stone, | |
| That the touched heart engrosses all the view. | |
| Almost unmarked the best proportions pass, | 60 |
| That ever Greece beheld; and, seen alone, | |
| On the rapt eye the imperious passions seize: | |
| The father’s double pangs, both for himself | |
| And sons convulsed; to Heaven his rueful look, | |
| Imploring aid, and half accusing, cast; | 65 |
| His fell despair with indignation mixed, | |
| As the strong curling monsters from his side | |
| His full extended fury cannot tear. | |
| More tender touched, with varied art, his sons | |
| All the soft rage of younger passions show. | 70 |
| In a boy’s helpless fate one sinks oppressed; | |
| While, yet unpierced, the frighted other tries | |
| His foot to steal out of the horrid twine. | |
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