On old Platea's day; And now there breathed that haunted air The sons of sires who conquered there, With arm to strike, and soul to dare, An hour passed on-the Turk awoke ; He woke to hear his sentries shriek, And shout, and groan, and sabre stroke, "Strike-till the last armed foe expires; They fought—like brave men, long and well; Bleeding at every vein. His few surviving comrades saw His smile when rang their proud hurrah, MARCO BOZZARIS. And the red field was won: Then saw in death his eyelids close Like flowers at set of sun. Come to the bridal chamber, Death! The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier; And all we know, or dream, or fear, Of agony, are thine. But to the hero, when his sword Has won the battle for the free, Thy voice sounds like a prophet's word; The thanks of millions yet to be. 141 Come in her crowning hour-and then Thy sunken eye's unearthly light To him is welcome as the sight Of sky and stars to prisoned men: Thy summons welcome as the cry To the world-seeking Genoese, BOZZARIS! with the storied brave Greece nurtured in her glory's time, Rest thee-there is no prouder grave, Even in her own proud clime. She wore no funeral weeds for thee, Nor bade the dark hearse wave its plume, Like torn branch from death's leafless tree, In sorrow's pomp and pageantry, The heartless luxury of the tomb: But she remembers thee as one Long loved, and for a season gone; For thee her poet's lyre is wreathed, Her marble wrought, her music breathed; For thee she rings the birthday bells; Of thee her babes' first lisping tells: MARCO BOZZARIS. For thine her evening prayer is said Talk of thy doom without a sigh: That were not born to die. 143 THOUGHTS OF A STUDENT. BY J. LAWRENCE, JUN. MANY a sad, sweet thought have I, Many a wild and wandering dream, Oft when the south wind's dancing free And the flowers peep softly out to see The frolic Spring as she wantons by, When the breeze and beam like thieves come in, To steal me away, I deem it sin To slight their voice, and away I'm straying Over the hills and vales a Maying. |