DEMETRIUS and LEONTIUS in Turkish Habits.
ND is it thus Demetrius meets his friend,
Hid in the mean disguise of Turkish robes, With fervile fecrecy to lurk in fhades,
And vent our fuff'rings in clandeftine groans?
Till breathlefs fury refted from destruction
These groans were fatal, thefe difguifes vain:
But now our Turkish conquerors have quench'd
Their rage, and pall'd their appetite of murder;
No more the glutted fabre thirfts for blood,
And weary cruelty remits her tortures.
Yet Greece enjoys no gleam of tranfient hope,
No foothing interval of peaceful forrow;
The luft of gold fucceeds the rage of conqueft,
The luft of gold, unfeeling and remorfelefs!
The laft corruption of degenerate man!
Urg'd by th' imperious foldier's fierce command, The groaning Greeks break up their golden caverns Pregnant with ftores, that India's mines might envy Th' accumulated wealth of toiling ages.
That wealth, too facred for their country's ufe!
That wealth, too pleafing to be loft for freedom!
That wealth, which granted to their weeping prince,
Had rang'd embattled nations at our gates:
But thus referv'd to lure the wolves of Turkey,
Adds fhame to grief, and infamy to ruin.
Lamenting Av'rice now too late difcovers
Her own neglected, in the publick fafety.
Reproach not mifery.-The fons of Greece,
Ill-fated race! fo oft befieg'd in vain,
With falfe fecurity beheld invafion.
Why should they fear?-That power that kindly spreads
The clouds, a fignal of impending fhow'rs,
To warn the wand'ring linnet to the fhade,
Beheld without concern expiring Greece,
And not one prodigy foretold our fate.
A thousand horrid prodigies foretold it.
A feeble government, eluded laws,
A factious populace, luxurious nobles,
And all the maladies of finking ftates.
When publick villany, too ftrong for justice,
Shews his bold front, the harbinger of ruin,
Can brave Leontius call for airy wonders,
Which cheats interpret, and which fools regard?
When fome neglected fabrick nods beneath.
The weight of years, and totters to the tempeft,
Muft heaven difpatch the meffengers of light,
Or wake the dead to warn us of its fall?
Well might the weakness of our empire fink
Before fuch foes of more than human force;
Some pow'r invifible, from heav'n or hell,
Conducts their armies, and afferts their cause.
And yet, my friend, what miracles were wrought
Beyond the power of conftancy and courage?
Did unrefifted lightning aid their cannon?
Did roaring whirlwinds fweep us from the ramparts ? 'Twas vice that shook our nerves, 'twas vice, Leontius, That froze our veins, and wither'd all our powers.
Whate'er our crimes, our woes demand compaffion. Each night, protected by the friendly darkness,
Quitting my close retreat, I range the city,
And weeping, kifs the venerable ruins :
With filent pangs I view the tow'ring domes,
Sacred to prayer, and wander thro' the ftreets.
Where commerce lavish'd unexhausted plenty,
And jollity maintain'd eternal revels.—
-How chang'd, alas!-Now ghaftly defolation In triumph fits upon our fhatter'd fpires;
Now fuperftition, ignorance, and error,
Ufurp our temples, and profane our altars.
From ev'ry palace burst a mingled clamour,
The dreadful diffonance of barb'rous triumph,
Shrieks of affright, and wailings of diftrefs.
Oft when the cries of violated beauty
Arose to heav'n, and pierc'd my bleeding breast,
I felt thy pains, and trembled for Afpafia.
Afpafia! fpare that lov'd, that mournful name: Dear hapless maid-tempeftuous grief o'erbears My reasoning pow'rs-Dear, hapless, loft Afpafia!
DEMETRIUS.
All thought on her is madness:
Yet let me think-I fee the helpless maid,
Behold the monsters gaze with favage rapture,
Behold how luft and rapine ftruggle round her.
Awake, Demetrius, from this difmal dream,
Sink not beneath imaginary forrows:
Call to your aid your courage, and your
Think on the fudden change of human fcenes;
Think on the various accidents of war;
Think on the mighty pow'r of awful virtue;
Think on that Providence that guards the good.
O Providence! extend thy care to me,
For courage droops unequal to the combat,
And weak philofophy denies her fuccours.
Sure fome kind fabre in the heat of battle,
Ere yet the foe found leisure to be cruel,
Difmifs'd her to the sky.
LEONTIUS.
Some virgin-martyr,
Perhaps, enamour'd of refembling virtue,
With gentle hand restrain'd the streams of life,
And fnatch'd her timely from her country's fate.
From those bright regions of eternal day,
Where now thou fhin'ft among thy fellow-faints,
Array'd in purer light, look down on me:
In pleafing visions, and affuafive dreams,
O! foothe my foul, and teach me how to lose thee.
Enough of unavailing tears, Demetrius ;
I came obedient to thy friendly fummons,
And hop'd to fhare thy counfels, not thy forrows:
While thus we mourn the fortune of Afpafia,
To what are we referv'd?
But hope, yet hope, to happiness and honour;
If happiness can be without Afpafia.
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