Blackwood's Edinburgh magazine, Vol. 76, No. 467, September 1854 — John Shaqi
Blackwood's Edinburgh magazine, Vol. 76, No. 467, September 1854Various
History
Blackwood's Edinburgh magazine, Vol. 76, No. 467, September 1854
Various
England -- Periodicals; Scotland -- Periodicals
The evening dew was clear and cold:
Upon the harsh ungrateful mould
All stiffly lay the hero bold
Thorough the dreamless night;
But when the face of peering day
Shot o’er the cliff its crimson ray,
All stiff and aching as he lay,
Sleep seized the weary knight—
A blissful sleep; for when the sense
Was bound with blindness most intense,
With sharp-eyed soul he saw,
Ev’n at his side, in light arrayed,
Serene with placid power displayed,
The chaste Athenian Jove-born maid,
And worshipped her with awe;
And in her hand—a well-known sight—
The wingèd steed she led,
That bent the knee before the knight,
And bowed its lofty head.
Raptured he woke; with sense now clear
He saw the heavenly maid,
And in her hand a massive spear,
Firm-planted, she displayed;
And thus she spake: “Ephyrian knight,
Dear to the gods art thou,
Not vainly did thy prayer invite
My aid to wing thy airy flight
To Cragus’ rocky brow.
A friendly god is thy provider;
If thou hast wisely planned,
Fear not; the steed doth wait the rider,
The spear doth claim the hand.
That snake-born monster’s horny hide,
That was not made to feel,
May never yield life’s crimson tide
To sharpest Rhodian steel;
But with this spear from Vulcan’s forge,
Right through the mouth in the deep gorge
If thou shalt pierce it, then
This dire Chimera, breathing flame,
Thou with a hero’s hand shalt tame,
And win thyself a glorious name
Among the Xanthian men.”
Upstood the knight, with hope elate,
And felt the aching pain abate
From all his sore-bruised limbs;
The wingèd steed he straight bestrode,
And to Chimera’s black abode
Through liquid air he swims.
The deep-mouthed Terror ’gan to bray,
The forky fire-tongues ’gan to play,
The fretful serpents hissed dismay
Round all the rocky wall;
But with direct and eager speed
The rider and the heavenly steed
Rushed to achieve the fearless deed
At glorious danger’s call.
The knight, with curious eye, did note
The centre of the roaring throat,
And while it gaped with gory jaws
To thunder fear around,
Forward he rode—nor any pause,
But right into Chimera’s gorge
He drove the spear from Vulcan’s forge,
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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