Classic Poem

PART II .

A voice was heard in Antioch,
Whence uttered none could know;
But from their sleep it wakened all,
Proclaiming, Woe, woe, woe!
It sounded here, it sounded there,
Within, without, and every where,
A terror and a warning;
Repeated thrice the dreadful word
By every living soul was heard
Before the hour of morning.

And in the air a rushing
Past over, in the night;
And as it past, there past with it
A meteoric light;
The blind that piercing light intense
Felt in their long-seal'd visual sense,
With sudden, short sensation:
The deaf that rushing in the sky
Could hear, and that portentous cry
Reach'd them with consternation.

The astonished Antiocheans
Impatiently await
The break of day, not knowing when
Or what might be their fate.
Alas! what then the people hear,
Only with certitude of fear
Their sinking hearts affrighted;
For in the fertile vale below,
Came news that, in that night of woe,
A Dragon had alighted.

It was no earthly monster
In Libyan deserts nurs'd;
Nor had the Lerna lake sent forth
This winged worm accurs'd;
The Old Dragon's own laid egg was this,
The fierce Young Dragon of the abyss,
Who from the fiery fountain,
Through earth's concavities, that night
Had made his way, and taken flight
Out of a burning mountain.

A voice that went before him
The cry of woe preferred;
The motion of his brazen wings
Was what the deaf had heard;
The flashing of his eyes, that light
The which upon their inward sight
The blind had felt astounded;
What wonder then, when from the wall
They saw him in the vale, if all
With terror were confounded?

Compared to that strong armor
Of scales which he was in,
The hide of a rhinoceros
Was like a lady's skin
A battering-ram might play in vain
Upon his head, with might and main,
Though fiftymen had work'd it;
And from his ail they saw him fling
Out, like a rocket, a long sting,
When he for pastime jerk'd it.

To whom of Gods or Heroes
Should they for aid apply?
Where should they look for succor now,
Or whither should they fly?
For now no Demigods were found
Like those whose deathless deeds abound
In ancient song and story;
No Hercules was then on earth,
Nor yet of her St. George's birth
Could Cappadocia glory.

And even these against him
Had found their strength but small;
He could have swallowed Hercules,
Club, lion-skin, and all.
Yea, had St. George himself been there
Upon the fiercest steed that e'er
To battle bore bestrider,
This dreadful Dragon, in his might,
One mouthful only, and one bite,
Had made of horse and rider.

They see how unavailing
All human force must prove;
Oh, might their earnest prayers obtain
Protection from above!
The Christians sought our Lady's shrine,
To invocate her aid divine;
And, with a like emotion,
The Pagans, on that fearful day,
Took to Diana's fane their way,
And offered their devotion.

But there the offended Goddess
Beheld them with a frown;
The indignant altar heaved itself,
And shook their offerings down;
The Priestess, with a deathlike hue,
Pale as the marble Image grew;
The marble Image redden'd;
And these poor suppliants, at the sight,
Felt, in fresh access of affright,
Their hearts within them deaden'd

Behold the marble eyeballs
With life and motion shine!
And from the moving marble lips
There comes a voice divine,
A demon voice, by all the crowd
Distinctly heard, nor low, nor loud,
But deep, and clear, and thrilling;
And carrying to the soul such dread
That they perforce must what it said
Obey, however unwilling.

Hear! hear! I said, ye people!
The ancient Gods have sent,
In anger for your long neglect,
This signal punishment.
To mortal Mary vows were paid,
And prayers preferr'd, and offerings made;
Our temples were desered;
Now when our vengeance makes ye wise,
Unto your proper Deities
In fear ye have reverted!

Hear now the dreadful judgment
For this which ye have done: —
The infernal Dragon will devour
Your daughters, one by one;
A Christian Virgin, every day,
Ye must present him for his prey,
With garlands deck'd, as meet is:
That with the Christians he begins
Is what, in mercy to your sins,
Ye owe to my entreaties.

Whether, if to my worship
Ye now continue true,
I may, when these are all consumed,
Avert the ill from you,
That on the Ancient Gods depends,
If they be made once more your friends
By your sincere repentance:
But for the present, no delay;
Cast lots among ye, and obey
The inexorable sentence.