The Massachusetts spy. [volume] (Worcester [Mass.]) 1821-1823, 1821-12-12
THE isles of Greece, the isles of Greece !

THE isles of Greece, the isles of Greece )!
Where burning Sarpho loy,d and sung,
Where grew the arts of war and peace
Where Dalos rose, and Phebus sprung !;
Eternal summer gilds them yet,
But all, except their sun, is set.
The Scian and the Teian muse,
The hero's harp, the lovers lutte,
Have found the fame your shores refuse :;
Their place of birth alone is mute
To sound which echo further west,
Than your sires tlslands of the Blest."
The mountains look on Marathon
And Marathon looks on the sea;
And musing there an hour alone,
dream,d that Greece might still be free
For standing on the Persian's grave,
could mot deem myself slave.
A kingcsat on the rocky brow,
Whichlooks Ger sea-bornYSalamis
And ships, by thousands, lay below,
And men in nations al were his !!
He counted them at break of day.,
And when the sun set, where we're they
And where were they and where art thou
My country On thy voiceless shore.
Tn heroick lay is tuneless now
TIL heroick bosom beats no more
And must thy Tyre, So long divine,
Degenerate into landslide mine.
IT'S something, in the deas;h of fame.
Though link'd among ietter'd race.
To feel at least patriots shame,
Fen as sing, suduse my face
For what is lett the poet here!
For Greeks a blush-for Greece tesE.-
Must lre but weep DER days more blest ?
Must zee but blush Our fathers bled.
Earth render back from out thy breast
A remnant of our Spartan dead
OF the three hundred grant but three.
To make new Thermopyla.
What, silent still ? and silent all ,
All no 1.-THE voices of the dead
Sound like a distant torrents fall.
And answer, "Let.one living head,,
But one arise,-we come, we come ~
7Tis but the living who are dumb.
In Tain-in vain: strike other chords
Fill high the cup with Samian wine,.
Leave battles to the Turkish hordes,
And shed the blood of Scio's vine
Hank rising to the ignoble CAL
How answers each bold bacchanal :,
You have the Pyrrhick dance as yet:
Where is the PyrrhiclS phalanx gone ,,
Oftwo such lessons, why forget
The nobler and the manlier orle..
You have the letters Cadmus gave
Think ye he meant them fora slave
Fiji high the bowl with Samian vine
We will not think of themes like these!-
tmade Anacreon's song divine:
He serv'd-but sery'd Poiycrates,.
A tyTant J; but our masters then
Were still, at least, our countrymen.
The tyrant of the Chersonese
Was freedoms best and braYest friend.
19sct tyrant was Miltiades!
Oh! that the present hour would lend
Another despot of the kind!
Such chains as his were sure to bind.
Fill high the bowl with Samian wine :.
On Suits rock, and Parga's shore.
Exists the remnant of line
Such as the Dorick mothers bore
And there, perhaps, some seed is sown,.
The Heracleidan blood might own.
Trust not for freedom TO the Franks
They have king who buys and sells.
IN native swords and native ranks.
The only hope of courage dweHs.:
But Turkish force, and Latin fraud,
Would break your shield, however broad
Fill high the bowl with Samian wine!
Our virgins dance beneath the shade
lsee their glorious black eyes shine;
But, gazing on each glowing maid,
My own the burning tear-drop laves,
To think such breasts must suclle Slaves
Place me .Sunium's marble steep,
Where nothing, save the waves and /,
Mag hear our mutual muunur sweep
There, swan-like, let me sing and die
A land of slaves shall meier be mine
Dash down yon cnp of Samian wine