New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1897-04-11
THE ISLES OF GREECE.

The isles of Greece, the isles OF Greece!
Where burning Sappho loved and sung.
Where grew the arts OF war and peace
Where Deos rose. and Phoebus sprung!
Eternal summer gilds them yet
But all, except their sun. Is set
TIE 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 sounds which echo further west
Than your sres Islands or the best
The mountains look on Marathon
And Marathon looks on the seq:
And musing there an hour alone,
I dream'd that Greece might still be free;
For standing on the Pers!ans grave,
I could not deem myself slave
king safe on the rocky brow
Which looks Ger sea born Salamis;
And ships by thousands lay below
And men in natons-all were his!
He counted them at break or day
And when the sun set, where were they!
My country? On thy voiceless shore
The heroic lay Is tuneeSS now
The heroic bosom beats no more
And must thy Tyre so long divine,
Degenerate into hands like mine;
TITS something, in the dearth Of fame.
Though link'd among fetter.d race.
To feel at least a patriots shame,
Even as sing. suffuse my face;
For what is left the poet here?
For Greeks a blush-for Greece tear
Must we but weep DER days more blest7
Must we 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 Thermopylae.
What. silent still? and silent all?
All! no-the voices OF the dead
Sound like distant torrents fall.
And answer. Let one living head
But one arise-we come, we Gomez
IT'S but the living who are dumb.
In vain-ln vain; strike other chords:
FIJI high the cup with Samian wine!
Leave battles to the Turkish hordes.
And shed the blood of Scos vine!
Hank. rising to the ignoble call
How answers each bold Bacchanal
You have the Pyrrhic dance as yet.
Where Is the Pyrrhic phalanx gone?
or two such lessons. why forget
The nober and the manlier one?
You have the letters Cadmus gave
Think we he meant them for SLAYER
FIJI high the bowl with Samlan wine.
We Will not think of themes like thesc
II made Anacreon's song divine:
He served-but served Polycrates-
tyrant; but our masters then
Were still. at least. our countrymen
The tyrant OF the Chersonese
Was freedoms best and bravest friend;
That tyrant was Miltiades!
Oh. that the present hour would lend
Another despot OF the kind
Such chains as his were sure 10 bind.
FIJI high the bowl with Saman wine!
On Suits rock. and Parga's shore.
Exists the remnant Of a line
Such as the Doric mothers bore;
And there. perhaps. some seed is sown.
The Heracleldan blood might own.
Trust not for freedom TO the Franks
They have a king who buys and sells:
In native swords and native ranks.
The only hope OF courage dwells;
But Turkish force. and Latin fraud,
Would break your shield however broad.
FIJI high the bowl with samian wine.
Our virgins dance beneath the shade
see their glorious black eyes shine;
But gazing each glowing maid,
MY own the burning tear-drop laves.
TO think such breasts must suckle slaves.
Place me on Sun!ums marbled steep
Where nothing. save the waves and !,
May hear our mutual murmurs sweep;
There swan-lke let me sing and die!
A land Of slaves shall ne'er be mine
Dash down yon cup OF Samian wine.
rANzAs FROM "CHII.DE HAROLD's PI
GRIMAGE"
Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crass as Wild:
Sweet are thy groves and yerdant are thy nel(
And still his honey'd wealth Hymettus yields;
There the bIithe bee hts fragrant fortress bulk
The freeborn wanderer OF thy mountain-air.
A polio still thy long. long summer 81 ds.
still In his beam MendelPs marbles glare;
r. Glory Freedom fail but Nature still IL IA
Where'er we tread It's haunted. holy ground:
No earth OF thine Is lost In vulgar mould
But one vast realm OF wonder spreads around
And all the MUSES. tales seem truly told,