The tyrant of the Chersonese Was freedom's best and bravest friend; That tyrant was Miltiades! O 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! Such as the Doric mothers bore; Trust not for freedom to the FranksThey 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. Fill high the bowl with Samian wine! Place me on Sunium's marbled steep, Where nothing, save the waves and I, May hear our mutual murmurs sweep; There, swan-like, let me sing and die: A land of slaves shall ne'er be mineDash down yon cup of Samian wine! 483 ON THIS DAY I COMPLETE MY THIRTY- 'Tis time this heart should be unmoved, My days are in the yellow leaf; The flowers and fruits of love are gone; The fire that on my bosom preys The hope, the fear, the jealous care, But 'tis not thus-and 'tis not here Such thoughts should shake my soul, nor now, Where glory decks the hero's bier, Or binds his brow. The sword, the banner, and the field, Awake! (not Greece-she is awake!) And then strike home! 484 Tread those reviving passions down, If thou regret'st thy youth, why live? Seek out-less often sought than found- AT MisSOLONGHI, January 22, 1824. THOMAS MOORE [1779-1852] THE LIGHT OF OTHER DAYS OFT in the stilly night Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Fond Memory brings the light Of other days around me: The smiles, the tears Of boyhood's years, The words of love then spoken; Now dimm'd and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken! Thus in the stilly night Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Sad Memory brings the light Of other days around me. When I remember all The friends so link'd together I've seen around me fall Like leaves in wintry weather, I feel like one Who treads alone Some banquet-hall deserted, Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Of other days around me. 485 PRO PATRIA MORI WHEN he who adores thee has left but the name Of his fault and his sorrows behind, O! say wilt thou weep, when they darken the fame Yes, weep, and however my foes may condemn, Thy tears shall efface their decree; For, Heaven can witness, though guilty to them, I have been but too faithful to thee. With thee were the dreams of my earliest love; In my last humble prayer to the Spirit above O! blest are the lovers and friends who shall live But the next dearest blessing that Heaven can give 486 THE MEETING OF THE WATERS THERE is not in the wide world a valley so sweet Yet it was not that nature had shed o'er the scene 'Twas that friends, the beloved of my bosom, were near, Sweet vale of Avoca! how calm could I rest In thy bosom of shade, with the friends I love best, Where the storms that we feel in this cold world should cease, And our hearts, like thy waters, бe mingled in peace. 487 THE LAST ROSE OF SUMMER 'Tis the last rose of summer I'll not leave thee, thou lone one! Since the lovely are sleeping, Go, sleep thou with them. Thus kindly I scatter Thy leaves o'er the bed, So soon may I follow, When friendships decay, |