He paused--and then abrupt: Victor, avaunt! he cried, Hence! and the banners of thy pride Bear to the deep! Behold on high Yon range of mountains mingled with the sky! It is the place Where the great Father of the human race Rested, when all the world and all its sounds Ceased; and the ocean that surrounds The earth, leaped from its dark abode 190 Beneath the mountains, and enormous flowed, The green earth deluging! List, soldier, list! And dread His might no mortal may resist.
Great Bramah rested, hushed in sleep, When Hayagraiva[174] came, With mooned horns and eyes of flame, And bore the holy Vedas[175] to the deep.
Far from the sun's rejoicing ray, Beneath the huge abyss, the buried treasures lay.
Then foamed the billowy desert wide, 200 And all that breathed--they died, Sunk in the rolling waters: such the crime And violence of earth.

But he above, Great Vishnu, moved with pitying love, Preserved the pious king, whose ark sublime Floated, in safety borne: For his stupendous horn, Blazing like gold, and many a rood Extended o'er the dismal flood, The precious freight sustained, till on the crest 210 Of Himakeel,[176] yon mountain high, That darkly mingles with the sky, Where many a griffin roams, the hallowed ark found rest.
And Heaven decrees that here Shall cease thy slaughtering spear: Enough we bleed, enough we weep, Hence, victor, to the deep! Ev'n now along the tide I see thy ships triumphant ride: I see the world of trade emerge 220 From ocean's solitude! What fury fires My breast! The flood, the flood retires,[177] And owns its future sovereign! Urge Thy destined way; what countless pennants stream! (Or is it but the shadow of a dream ?) Ev'n now old Indus hails Thy daring prows in long array, That o'er the lone seas gliding, Around the sea-gods riding, Speed to Euphrates' shores their destined way.

230 Fill high the bowl of mirth! From west to east the earth Proclaims thee Lord; shall the blue main Confine thy reign?
But tremble, tyrant; hark in many a ring, With language dread Above thy head, The dark Assoors[178] thy death-song sing.
What mortal blow Hath laid the king of nations low?
240 No hand: his own despair .-- But shout, for the canvas shall swell to the air, Thy ships explore Unknown Persia's winding shore, While the great dragon rolls his arms in vain.
And see, uprising from the level main, A new and glorious city springs;-- Hither speed thy woven wings, That glance along the azure tide; Asia and Europe own thy might;-- 250 The willing seas of either world unite: Thy name shall consecrate the sands, And glittering to the sky the mart of nations stands.
He spoke, and rushed into the thickest wood.
With flashing eyes the impatient monarch cried-- Yes, by the Lybian Ammon and the gods Of Greece, thou bid'st me on, the self-same track My spirit pointed; and, let death betide, My name shall live in glory! At his word 260 The pines descend; the thronging masts aspire; The novel sails swell beauteous o'er the curves Of INDUS; to the Moderators' song[179] The oars keep time, while bold Nearchus guides Aloft the gallies.

On the foremost prow The monarch from his golden goblet pours A full libation to the gods, and calls By name the mighty rivers, through whose course He seeks the sea.

To Lybian Ammon loud The songs ascend; the trumpets bray; aloft 270 The streamers fly, whilst on the evening wave Majestic to the main the fleet descends.
[173] Nebuchadnezzar, the destroyer of Tyre.
[174] Hayagraiva, the evil spirit of the ocean.
[175] The sacred writings of the Hindus.
[176] Caucasus.
[177] Alluding to the astonishment of Alexander's soldiers, when they first witnessed the effects of the tide.
[178] Assoors, the evil genii of India.
[179] Moderators were people stationed on the poop, to excite with songs the maritime ardour, while the oars kept time..