When eve thy azure book expands, He sees in starry letters bright, The work of thy eternal hands; Great Sovereign of etherial light. With heaven's effulgent type, serene The beauteous rainbow's cheering ray, Imprint upon his soul the scene That opens in celestial day. And when this earthly mouldering form That hurls the vicious from thy face. XXIII. LIBERTY TO ATHENS, THE flag of freedom floats once more As bright a glory, from the skies, Pours down its light around those tow'rs, And once again the Greeks arise, As in their country's noblest hours; Their swords are girt in virtue's cause, Minerva's sacred hill is free O! may she keep her equal laws, While man shall live, and time shall be. The pride of all her shrines went down ; The Goth, the Frank, the Turk, had reft The laurel from her civic crown; Her helm by many a sword was cleft: She lay among the ruins low Where grew the palm, the cypress rose ; And, crush'd and bruis'd by many a blow, She cower'd beneath her savage foes; But now again she springs from earth, Her loud, awakening trumpet speaks; She rises in a brighter birth, X And sounds redemption to the Greeks. It is the classic jubilee Their servile years have roll'd away; The clouds that hover'd o'er them flee, They hail the dawn of freedom's day; From Heaven the golden light descends, The times of old are on the wing, And glory there her pinion bends, And beauty wakes a fairer spring; The hills of Greece, her rocks, her waves, Are all in triumph's pomp arrayed; A light that points their tyrants' graves, Plays round each bold Athenian's blade. The Parthenon, the sacred shrine, Where wisdom held her pure abode : The hill of Mars, where light divine Proclaim'd the true, but unknown God; Where justice held unyielding sway, And trampled all corruption down, And onward took her lofty way To reach at truth's unfading crown: The groves and gardens, where the fire To truth, has long in worship turn'd : In all the light of science reign'd: To all, who would not kiss her rod; On these a dawn of glory springs, Her weeds, her shackles, and her shame; Again her ancient souls awake, Harmodious bares anew his sword; Her sons in wrath their fetters break, And freedom is their only lord. [Evening Post. New-York.] ONCE more, old friend, we meet Then fill the goblet high, Let it sparkle to the brim, First we'll pledge the shrouded dead; Those for whom our bosoms bled: Let us pledge their grassy graves: Let us pledge our early hours- No, we'll bathe their memory Let us pledge our countless foes, None are left who wish us well As we plege each other's worth. We have tried life's varied round, We have culled the flowers we found, And have proved them worthless all! We have worn the wreath of love We have studied woman's heart, For we found her vain and vile. Fill the goblet full and high, There is pleasure on each brow; By our strong and mystic le Let us pledge each other now! When the grass shall o'er me grow, Thou wilt pledge my memory; And if thou art first to go, I will do the same for thee. |