With all my honours blooming round my head,
Repines my foul? or rather to forfake,
Eternally forfake my weeping wife,
My infant offspring, and my faithful friends
Leonidas, awake! Shall these withstand
The public fafety? Lo! thy country calls.-
O facred voice, I hear thee! At that found
Returning Virtue brightens in my heart;
Fear vanishes before her. Death, receive
My unreluctant hand, and lead me on.
Thou too, O Fame, attendant on my fall,
With wings unwearied fhalt protect my tomb 235
Nor Time himself shall violate my praise.
The hero thus confirm'd his virtuous foul.
When Agis enter'd. If till now my tongue
(He thus began) O brother, has delay'd
To pay its grateful off'ring of the praife,
Thy merit claims, and only fill'd the cries
Of general applause, forgive thy friend;
Since her diftreffes, hers, whom most you love,
Detain'd me from thee. O unequall'd man!·
Though Lacedæmon call thy first regard,
Forget not her, who now for thee laments,
In forrows which fraternal love in vain
Hath ftrove to footh. Leonidas embrac'd
His gen'rous friend, and thus replied. Moft dear And best of men! conceive not, but my heart 250 Muft ftill remember her, from whom my life
Its largest share of happiness derives.
Can I, who yield my breath, left others mourn, Left thousands fhould be wretched; when the pines,
More lov'd than any, though lefs dear than all,
Can I neglect her griefs? In future days
If thou with grateful memory record
My name and fate, O Sparta, pass not this
Unheeded by; the life I gave for thee
Knew not a painful hour to tire my foul,
Nor were they common joys I left behind.
So fpake the patriot. and his heart o'erflow'd With fondeft paffion, then in eager hafte The faithful partner of his bed he fought. Amid her weeping children fat the queen, Immoveable and mute; her (wimming eyes Fix'd on the earth. Her arms were folded o'er Her lab'ring bosom blotted with her tears.
As, when a dufky mift involves the sky,.
The moon through all the dreary vapours spreads The radiant vesture of its filver light
O'er the dull face of nature; fo her charms
Divinely graceful fhone upon her grief,
Bright'ning the cloud of woe.
Soon as in gentleft phrafe his well-known voice 275 Her drooping mind awaken'd, for a time
Its cares were hush'd: she lifts her languid head,
And thus gives utt'rance to her tender thoughts.
O thou, whose prefence is my only joy,
If thus, Leonidas, thy looks and voice
Can diffipate at once the sharpest pangs,
How greatly am I wretched; who no more
Must hear, that voice, which lulls my anguish thus,
Nor fee that face, which makes affliction fmile!
This faid, returning grief her breaft invades.
Her orphan children, her devoted lord
Pale, bleeding, breathlefs on the field of death,
Her ever during folitude of woe,
All rife in mingled horrour to her fight,
When thus in bitt'reft agony the spoke.
O whither art thou going from my arms!
Shall I no more behold thee! oh! no more
In conqueft clad, and wrapt in glorious duft
Wilt thou return to greet thy native soil,
And make thy dwelling joyful! Ah! too brave,
Why wouldst thou haften to the dreary gates
Of death, uncall'd? Another might have fall'n,
Like thee a victim of Alcides' race,
Lefs dear to all, and Sparta been secure.
Now ev'ry eye with mine is drown'd in tears, 300
All with thefe babes lament their father loft.
But oh! how heavy is our lot of pain !
Our fighs muft laft, when ev'ry other breaft
Exults with tranfport, and the public joy
Will but increase our anguish. Yet unmov'd 305
Thou didst not heed our forrows, didft not feek
A moment's pause to teach us how to bear
Thy endless absence, or like thee to die.
Unutterable forrow here confin'd'
Her voice. Thefe words Leonidas return'd.
I fee, I feel thy anguifl:, nor my foul
Has ever known the prevalence of love,
E'er prov'd a father's fondness as this hour;'
Nor, when most ardent to affert my fame,
Was once my heart infenfible to thee.
How had it ftain'd the honours of my name
To hesitate a moment, and fufpend
My country's fate, till shameful life, prefer'd
By my inglorious colleague, left no choice,
But what in me were infamy to fhun,
Not virtue to accept? Then deem no more,
That of thy love regardless, or thy tears,
I hafte uncall'd to death... The voice of Fate The gods, my fame, my country bid me bleed. '-Oh! thou dear mourner! wherefore ftreams
That flood of woe? why heaves with fighs renew'd That tender breat? Leonidas muft fall.
Alas! far heavier mifery impends
O'er thee and thefe, if, foften'd by thy tears,
I fhamefully refufe to yield that breath
Which juftice, glory, liberty, and heav'n
Claim for my country, for my fons, and thee.
Think on my long unalter'd love. Reflect
On my paternal fondness. Has my heart
E'er known a pause of love, or pious care?
Now fhall that care, that tenderness be prov'd
Most warm and faithful. When thy husband dies
For Lacedæmon's fafety, thou wilt share,
Thou and thy children, the diffufive good.
Should I, thus fingled from the rest of men,
Alone intrusted by th' immortal gods
With pow'r to fave a people, should my foul
Defert that facred caufe, thee too I yield
To forrow, and to shame; for thou must weep
With Lacedæmon, must with her sustain
Thy painful portion of oppreffions weight.
Thy fons behold, now worthy of their names,
And Spartan birth. Their growing bloom must
In fhame and bondage, and their youthful hearts Beat at the found of liberty no more.
On their own virtue, and their father's fame,
When he the Spartan freedom hath confirm'd,
Before the world illuftrious fhall they rise,
Their country's bulwark, and their mother's joy.
Here paus'd the patriot. With religious awe
Grief heard the voice of Virtue. No complaint
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