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So fair, so calm, so softly seald,
Clime of the unforgotten brave !
40 Approach, thou craven crouching slave:
Say, is not this Thermopylæ ?
O servile offspring of the free-
45 The gulf, the rock of Salamis ! These scenes, their story not unknown, Arise, and make again your own; Snatch from the ashes of your sires The embers of their former fires;
50 And he who in the strife expires Will add to theirs a name of fear That Tyranny shall quake to hear,
And leave his sons a hope, a fame,
Slow sinks, more lovely ere his race be run,
On old Ægina's rock, and Idra's isle,
queen of night asserts her silent reign. No murky vapour, herald of the storm,
35 Hides her fair face, nor girds her glowing form; With cornice glimmering as the moon-beams play, There the white column greets her grateful ray,
264 'TIS TIME THIS HEART SHOULD BE UNMOVED.
And, bright around with quivering beams beset,
40 The groves
of olives scatter'd dark and wide, Where meek Cephisus pours his scanty tide, The cypress saddening by the sacred mosque, The gleaming turret of the gay kiosk, And, dun and sombre 'mid the holy calm, 45 Near Theseus' fane yon solitary palm, All tinged with varied hues, arrest the eye, And dull were his that pass’d them heedless by. Again the Ægean, heard no more afar, Lulls his chafed breast from elemental war; 50 Again his waves in milder tints unfold Their long array of sapphire and of gold, Mixt with the shades of many a distant isle, That frown—where gentler ocean seems to smile.
'T IS TIME THIS HEART SHOULD BE
'T is time this heart should be unmoved,
Since others it hath ceased to move; Yet though I cannot be beloved,
Still let me love!
My days are in the yellow leaf;
The flowers and fruits of love are gone; The worm, the canker, and the grief
Are mine alone!
The fire that on my bosom preys
Is lone as some volcanic isle ;
10 'TIS TIME THIS HEART SHOULD BE UNMOVED. 265
No torch is kindled at its blaze
A funeral pile!
The exalted portion of the pain
15 But wear the chain. But 't is not thus—and 't is not here
Such thoughts should shake my soul; nor now, Where glory decks the hero's bier, Or binds his brow.
20 The sword, the banner, and the field,
Glory and Greece, around me see !
Was not more free.
25 Awake, my spirit! think through whom Thy life-blood tracks its parent lake,
And then strike home!
30 Indifferent should the smile or frown
Of beauty be.
The land of honourable death
35 Away thy breathi Seek out—legs often sought than found
A soldier's grave, for thee the best; Then look around, and choose thy ground, And take thy rest.