To confound weak wits with phrases, To convert most right to wrong.

And they mewed him in a prison, And they doomed him there to die, And he drank the deathful hemlock,

And he died, as wise men die,

With smooth brow, serene, unclouded, With a bright, unweeping eye, Marching with firm step to Hades,

When the word came from on high.

29

ALEXANDER.

I WILL sing of Alexander,
Macedonia's peerless boy,

In whose veins the blood of heroes
Ran like rivers in their joy.

In his father's camp at Pydna Up he grew in ruddy grace, Lithe of limb and tight of sinew, And with eager forward face.

First to run the race with racers,

First to mount the restive steed,

First to chase the stag fleet-footed

O'er the hills with flying speed.

Nor in feats of muscle merely,

But in tricks of wit excels,

Drinking wisdom at Stagira,

From the master-thinker's wells.

Born a king, the charm of kingship Went with him; and where he came,

Subtle Greek and rude Triballi

Owned the virtue of his name.

Petty strifes might not detain him

;

Great souls long for large expanse ; Europe's age-long feud with Asia

Claimed the service of his lance.

And he passed the stream of Helle,
Where the Sea-nymph's fervid boy
With a thousand-masted navy

Crossed to curb the pride of Troy.

And his eager foot he planted

On that ten years' battle-ground,

And flung his war-gear off, and gaily
Round Pelides' grassy mound

Rode three times; and with his captains

In devout self-dedication

Crowned his tomb with bloom of flowers, And poured sweet oil of consecration.

Thence with foot that knew no resting,
And a soul that spurned delay,
On to thy steep banks, Granicus,
Where in bristling close array

Stood Darius' high-trained legions
In proud pomp of glittering mail,
And from bend of bows gigantic

Pouring arrows thick as hail,

Vainly; never pride of Susa

Blocked to free-souled Greece the road; Through surging tide and slippery bank

On the Macedonian strode,

And stood white-plumed a victor. Onward Where the Sardian gold was stored, Where the knot of Fate, the Gordian,

Gaped to greet the Grecian sword.

Onward by the steep sea-ladders

Where Pamphylia's tideful wave

Timed its swell to leave free passage
To the footsteps of the brave.

Onward where high-ridged Amanus

Towered o'er Issus' widespread waters,

Where Damascus' leafy gardens

Wove green bowers for Syria's daughters.

Onward where the hold of Hiram,

Sea-girt Tyre, his might defied;

But with heart that never fainted,
O'er its haughty-crested tide

He flung a highway. Tyre submissive
Bowed her neck: stout Gaza yields,