Page:Poems Sigourney 1827.pdf/28

Fell like his lowliest subject. Light of heart,
The expectant prince received a nation's vows,
And rear'd himself to reign. But watchful Fate,
As if determin'd still to mar the joys
Of him who dealt in guile, with hasty hand
Number'd his days. The royal forehead droop'd
To dire disease, and the slight diadem
Disown'd its brief companionship.—One grave
Open'd for both.—Whom rivalry disjoin'd,
Nature in burial, as in birth made one.
Grief mark'd their obsequies, and the sad tribe
Like orphans mourning, heap'd the hallow'd mould.
—Not thus the Persian brothers, fired with rage
Of mad ambition for their father's throne,
Respected kindred ties. Not like those kings
Nurtured by nature o'er her wilds to roam
And to her teachings bow,—their rash swords spared
That blood which through their rival breasts was pour'd
From the same fountain.
                                  —On Cunaxa's plain
The war they raised. Bold Artaxerxes brought
His scythe-arm'd chariots, and his countless troops,
Egyptians, by their ample bucklers hid,
And white-robed Persians with uncover'd heads
And glittering armour. Fiery Cyrus came,
Proud of his allied Greeks to blood inured
On Peloponnesus,—while his furious voice
The Paphlagonian cavalry inspired,
With rage like his.—
                                    But see! his life-tide flows
Beneath his brother's javelin,—and he falls
Foaming, like him of Bosworth, while his teeth
Gnashing vindictive, testify the force
Of hatred built on love.