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And revel deeply in the joy divine

Of bright ecstatic wine!
"A mighty, mighty light, O Nereid dear,"
Thessalian virgins cried, "thou soon shalt rear!"
And Chiron wise, and heaven's immortal seer,

"A mighty, mighty light!" did name, "Who, landing there, with many a spear and shield, Through Priam's high realm should spread relentless flame First warrior on the battle-field,

All armed in panoply of burning gold,

By Vulcan old,

Wrought at the sweet sea-nymph's request,
Thetis, who so supremely blest

The god-like hero bore."
Then did the gods forsake the Olympian bowers,
For choral dances on the ocean shore,

And culled high song's prophetic flowers,
To hail the noble Nereid's wedded state,
And Peleus' bridal day to celebrate.

EPODE.

But o'er thy bright locks, and thy snowy brow,
With votive wreaths the Greeks shall crown thee now,
Iphigenia fair!

And lead thee forth, a victim pure and young,
Like some white heifer, spotless, wild, and free,
Nursed the dim woods and shaggy cliffs among.
Yet never, never did the rustic glee

Of the rough shepherd's lair,
Nor Pan's wild wood-notes, waken thee
On the lone shore;

Though they shall drag thee by the flower-crowned hair,
And stain thy neck of snow with purple gore,

The sacred hearths before, --
Who erst didst grace thy queenly mother's side,
Meet, in the fragrance of thy glowing charms,
To fill some hero-husband's royal arms,
A happy bride!

Ah, whither, whither now has fled
The might of holiness, the empire dread
Of maiden modesty,
When impious daring stalks with dauntless tread,
And lowly virtue shrinks unheeded by,

And laws are trampled down by lawless scorn ?
How long, great gods! how long have ye forborne ?

II.

CHORUS OF GREEK VIRGINS IN THE TEMPLE OF THE TAURIC DIANA.

ὄρνις ἃ παρὰ τὰς πετρίνας. - Euripides, Iphigenia in Tauris

STROPHE I.

Thou bird, who pourest aye thy mournful dirge,
Along the rock-bound verge
Of the deep sea,

Thy mournful dirge, which all compassionate,
Wailing thy mate!

- v. 1089:

Be it mine, sad Halcyon, to compete with thee,
A melancholy bird of no wild wing

To soar the while I sing!

Pining, alas! for the Greek forum free!
Pining for Dian, whom faint mothers call
From the green top of Cynthus tall!
For the soft tresses of the waving palm!
For the dark Daphne's verdant screen,
And holiest umbrage of the olive's sheen,
Dear to Latona!—for the glassy calm
Of those swan-haunted lakes,
Which not a ripple breaks,

Save when a white wing stirs it, where they float,
The Muses' sacred birds of saddest note!

ANTISTROPHE I.

Witness, ye tears, which from your deep founts gushed,
And down my pale cheeks rushed

In copious flow;

When reft from thee by the barbaric spear,

My country dear,

I clomb the foreign galley, sad and slow,

And through the slave-mart reached this cursed spot,
Wo, for the captive's lot!

While smoking yet they lay in ashes low,
My native towers! - Alas! alas! the time,
That bound me thus a slave in maiden prime —
Slave to the virgin-huntress of the wold,

Her gory altars tending - slave of thine,
High child of Agamemnon's royal line!
Ay me! the noblest heart may well grow cold,

At fortune's bitter spite,

When, unaccustomed quite,

It falls from bliss sublime to ruin base!

Such change no heart may brook, and not despair.

STROPHE II.

But thee, fair Argive, to thy native shores
A flying bark shall waft of fifty oars,
The spirit-stirring reed
Of the wild wood-god, with its shrilly note,
Timing the rower's speed!

Thee, with sweet songs, that all around shall float,
Tuned to the seven-stringed lyre,

The minstrel master of prophetic fire,

Shall the swift oars dash up the foamy sea-
Nor the sails belly to the snoring blast,

While every sheet is strained-nor free and fast
The galley brave

Walk in glad triumph the tumultuous wave!

ANTISTROPHE II.

Oh! could I stand, a slave no more, at home, Where streams the sun on shrine and hippodrome! Oh! could I cease to pray

That breezy pinions o'er my back would spread,
And bear me hence away

To those old halls, and that accustomed bed!
Oh! could I stand again

In festive dance amid the choral train,

A happy maid, my mother dear beside,
Tending some happy bride!

Even as I stood of old, my ringlets flinging,
In rich abundant clusters loosely swinging,
When, decked with gauzy veils that rose and fell
To the voluptuous music's thrilling swell,

I filled my place

In the blithe contests for the crown of grace!

III.

CHORUS OF GREEK VIRGINS.

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Afei dǹ Lipóevra, kaì. — Euripides, Iphigenia in Aulis — v. 751.

STROPHE.

The host shall sail the mighty Grecian host!
To Trojan Simois, that silver stream;
Its ships shall crowd Apollo's chosen coast;

Its spears round Ilion gleam!

Where wild Cassandra - as we hear them say

Shakes loose the clusters of her golden hair,
A priestess young and fair,

All decked with wreaths of green immortal bay;
When, by the prophet god possess'd,
That solemn phrensy fills her laboring breast.

ANTISTROPHE.

Then! as that host with brazen bucklers glancing,
Shall fill their rivers with the oary sound
Of hostile squadrons to the shore advancing,
Then, their strong ramparts round,
And on their citadel, shall brave the fight

Troy's chosen chiefs !--- while all in burnished arms,
To rescue Helen's charms-

Sister to those twin powers who star the night—
All Greece shall sweep in proud career!
All Greece- and bear thee back, won by the spear!

EPODE

Then, then shall they defile thy mighty wall
With battle's crimson hue-

And beat thy towers and rock-built ramparts down,

Old Phrygian town!

Then shall they sack thy broad streets through and through,
While many a sacred head to earth shall fall,
And wild shall wail through many a marble hall
Priam's lone spouse and all his daughters rare!
Loud! loud shall ring the echoes of despair
In homes o'erthrown, all for thy guilty sake,
That didst thy nuptial vows so foully break,
Helen, Jove's child divine!

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Oh! never fall so hard a fate on me,
Nor on my children's children, as shall be
To the rich maidens of the Lydian line,

Or Phrygian brides, who, as their webs they twine,
Sadly in mournful songs must soon inquire-
"Ah! who shall drag me by the tresses bright,
While sinks my home in the red death-fire's light,
The captive victim of a chief's desire?

All, all through thee, thou fair predestined child
Of that high dame and the white sea-bird wild;
If that be true, as mystic legends tell,

Which to the lovely Leda once befell
When, Jove's immortal glory cast aside,

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A swan's broad wings he wore and neck of pride.
Unless the tablets of Pierian song

A tide of errors strange have rolled along,

Teaching the sons of men no truth, but impious wrong."

ON ASSOCIATION AND ATTRACTIVE INDUSTRY.

BY A FOURIERIST.

First Article.

THERE is a monstrous mass of misery in the world, which pleads with deep and earnest tones for alleviation! This misery, under its innumerable forms of moral affliction and of physical wretchedness, extends to all classes of society, and renders human existence, which contains all the elements of a high order of happiness, a mournful pilgrimage, in which disappointment, suffering, and despair domineer with bitter tyranny over our feelings and our destinies.

I intend to give, in a series of articles, a practical idea of a system of Association, which I believe will remedy this misery, to which so little regard is paid by the political and scientific leaders of the world, who believe it to be the natural and unavoidable lot of mankind upon this earth.

To realize the system, no appeal will be made to the charity

* We have acceded to the request of the able and intelligent author of the papers of which the present is the first, to allow him to lay them before the readers of the Democratic Review, in mode here adopted. Although such a course involves a departure from the general editorial system of the work, yet the peculiar interest of the subject induces us to do so, notwithstanding that they may contain many propositions to which we are far from yielding our assent or endorsement. The subject is one of the mightiest extent and moment. "Fourierism" claims to be a full solution of the great problem of human society. It claims, too, to be the perfect development of a truly democratic freedom, as well as the earthly consummation of that Christianity which fell from the lips of Him who "spake as never man spake." To these pretensions we are far from yielding the assent demanded by its eloquent and enthusiastic disciples. The subject is too profound, and its bearings and relations too vast, to permit us to pass any judgment upon it, on such a study as we have as yet been enabled to give it. But there is no doubt that it has made a rapid progress within the past ten years, and also that not a few minds of a very elevated order have, to a greater or less extent, embraced its doctrine. We have long, indeed, perceived the general tendency of the age to the idea of Association, and believed that it contains the germ of a new civilization destined to overspread the earth, and to produce results of happiness and good undreamed of yet by human hope. Whether "Fourierism" contains the true theory for the practical application of this idea, discussion must demonstrate, and experience can alone confirm. Meanwhile it is entitled at least to an attentive and candid hearing-and from none more than from an American democracy. With these remarks, to place the Democratic Review rectus in curia in reference to the subject of the present article, we leave the author to speak for himself and his doctrine-vouching simply for the generous enthusiasm of philanthropy and conviction from which alone we know his disinterested labors to proceed.-Ed, D. R.

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