The Wilmingtonian, and Delaware register., 1825-07-28
sfarco l}ozZai.is.

5ine.
s'arc0 BozZai.is.
The Epamnondas ,fmodern Greece. lie fell
III a a,ght 4ttar,s apoath Turkish camp at Laspi,
the site Of the ant ent flaira, August 20, 1928,
ard expired in the mo ient of victory. His last
worls were--"i'o die for liberty Is pleasure,
and not pain."l
At i.t, ii, i'll his guarded tent,
IAe LINK was dreaming Of tac hour
When Greece, her knee III oippliancr bent,
Should tremblc tt his power;
In dreams, through camp and court, he bore
The trophies OF u conqucror;
In dreams his snng Of triumph heard;
Then wore his monarch's sgnct riug:--
Then prcss'd that nonArcll's thronc,-a king:
IS wlld Ills thoughts, and gay OF wing,
As Edens garden bird.
At midaght, in the forest shades,
Bozzaris ranged ms Sullotc band,
True As ihe steel Of ihcir tried blades,
Heroes in heart and hana.
There had the Perslan's thousands stood,
There had the glad earth drunk theirblood
On old Piatea's day;
And now there breatll'd that haunted air
The Sous ofs res who conquered there,
With arm 10 strike, and soul to dare,
As quick, AS far as they.
An hour pasSd on--tnc farks awobc;
That bright dream was his last;
He woke 10 aear his sentiies Shrek,
sfo AIMS! they come! tic Greek! the Greck!'
lie woke to die ndst flame and smoke,
And shout, and groan, and sabre stroke,
And death shots falling thick and fast
As beginnings from III mountain cloud;
And nrard with voice as trumpet loud
BoAzaris cheer his band;
"Strike--till the last armed foe expires
Str,tle-fot youra alter, and your fires,
Strike-tor the green graves ofy YOUR sres,
God-and your native land"
They fouglit-like brave men, long and well,
They pd that ground with Moslcn slain,
They conqueretl-but i5ol1ars fell,
Recding At every VEIN
Ills few surviving comrades saw
Ills smile when rang their proud hurrah,
Aud the red field was won;
Then saw in death his cyclids close
Calmly, as to nights rcposc.
Like hoWers at set of sun.
Come to the bridal chamber, Death!
Come TO the mothers, when she feels
Tor the first time, her first born's brcath;--
Come when the blessed seals
Which close the pestilcncc are broke,
\ d crowded cites wall its stroke
Come in consumptons ghasty form,
The carthquahe shock, the ocean storm;-
Come when the heart beats high and warm,
With banquet song, and dance, and wine,
And thou art terrible; the tear,
Ihe groan, the knel, the pail, the bier,
And all We know, or dream, or fear
Ofagony, arc thine.
Bnt 10 the Hero, when his sword
iIas won the battle or the free,
Thy voice sounds like prophets word,
And in its hollow tones are heard
The thanks Of millions yet to be.
Come when his task off.me is wrought
Come with her laurel leaf blood bought
Come in her crownng hour; and then
THY sunken eyes uneaithly light
10 him is welcome as the sight
OF sky and stars to prisoncd men,
Thy Grasp is welcome as the hand
Of brother in a foreign land
Thy summons welcome Us the cry
Which told the indian Isles were nigh
TO the world-seekng Genoese,
when the land wind, from the woods of palm,
And orange groves, and fields If balm,
Blew o'er the llaytan seas.
Bozzars! with the storied brave
Greece nurtur'd in her glory's time,
Rest thec-therc is no prouder grave,
Even in her own proud Cline
She wore no funeral weeds for thee,
Nor bade the ,iark hGarSe wave It's plume,
Like torn branch from death, lcahcss tree,
In sorrows pomp and pageantry,
The heartess luxury Of the tomb;
But she remembers tn c as one
Long lov'd, and for Il season gone.
For thee her poets Tyre IS w!p.stsi'd,
II marble wrought, her mnsic breath'd
For thee she rings the birthday bells;
Of thee her babcs' first l!splng tciis,
For thine her evening prayer is said
At palace couch and cottage bed,
Her soldier, closing with the toe,
Gives for thy sake a deadlicr blow;
His phghtcd maiden, when she hears
For him, the JOY of heryoapgef years,
Thinks of thy fate, and checks aer tears
And she, the mother OF thy boys,
Though IN her eye and faded check
Nread the gr.. she viii not speak,
The memory Of her huried oySI