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LXXVI. Hereditary bondsmen! know ye not Who would be free themselves must strike the blow? By their right arms the conquest must be wrought ? Will Gaul or Muscovite redress ye? no! True, they may lay your proud despoilers low, But not for you will Freedom's altars flame. Shades of the Helots! triumph o'er your foe! Greece! change thy lords, thy state is still the same ; Thy glorious day is o'er, but not thine years of shame.
LXXVII. The city won for Allah from the Giaour, The Giaour from Othman's race again may wrest; And the Serai's impenetrable tower Receive the fiery Frank, her former guest; 1 Or Wahab's rebel brood who dared divest The prophet's 2 tomb of all its pious spoil, May wind their path of blood along the West;
But ne'er will freedom seek this fated soil, But slave succeed to slave through years of endless toil.
In motley robe to dance at masking ball,
| When taken by the Latins, and retained for several years.
2 Mecca and Medina were taken some time ago by the Waha. bees, a sect yearly increasing.
Nor oft I've seen such sight, nor heard such song, As woo'd the eye, and thrill'd the Bosphorus along. 2
i[Of Constantinople Lord Byron says, “ I have seen the ruins of Athens, of Ephesus, and Delphi ; I have traversed great part of Turkey, and many other parts of Europe, and some of Asia ; but I never beheld a work of nature or art which yielded an impression like the prospect on each side, from the Seven Towers to the end of the Golden Horn.”]
2 ['. The view of Constantinople," says Mr. Rose," which appeared intersected by groves of cypress (for such is the effect of its great burial-grounds planted with these trees), its gilded domes and minarets reflecting the first rays of the sun, the deep blue sea 'in which it glassed itself,' and that sea covered with beautiful boats and barges darting in every direction in perfect silence, amid sea-fowl, who sat at rest upon the waters, altogether conveyed such an impression as I had never received, and probably never shall again receive, from the view of any other place." The following sonnet, by the same author, has been so often quoted, that, but for its exquisite beauty, we should not have ventured to reprint it here:
“ A glorious form thy shining city wore,
Mid cypress thickets of perennial green,
With minaret and golden dome between,
Of sculptured barques and galleys many a score;
Whence noise was none save that of plashing oar;
Who, mute as Sinbad's man of copper, rows,
I, hardly conscious if I dreamed or woke,
LXXX. Loud was the lightsome tumult on the shore, Oft Music changed, but never ceased her tone, And timely echo'd back the measured oar, And rippling waters made a pleasant moan: The Queen of tides on high consenting shone, And when a transient breeze swept o'er the wave, 'T was, as if darting from her heavenly throne,
A brighter glance her form reflected gave, slave. Till sparkling billows seem'd to light the banks they
Let sage or cynic prattle as he will,
How do they loathe the laughter idly loud,
LXXXIII. This must he feel, the true-born son of Greece, If Greece one true-born patriot still can boast : Not such as prate of war, but skulk in peace, The bondsman's peace, who sighs for all he lost, Yet with smooth smile his tyrant can accost, And wield the slavish sickle, not the sword: Ah! Greece! they love thee least who owe thee most;
Of hero sires, who shame thy now degenerate horde !
An hour may lay it in the dust: and when
Can man its shatter'd splendour renovate, Recall its virtues back, and vanquish Time and Fate ?
So perish monuments of mortal birth,
i On many of the mountains, particularly Liakura, the snow never is entirely melted, notwithstanding the intense heat of the summer ; but I never saw it lie on the plains, even in winter.
While strangers only not regardless pass,
1 Of Mount Pentelicus, from whence the marble was dug that constructed the public edifices of Athens. The modern name is Mount Mendeli. An immense cave, formed by the quarries, still remains, and will till the end of time.
2 In all Attica, if we except Athens itself and Marathon, there is no scene more interesting than Cape Colonna. To the antiquary and artist, sixteen columns are an inexhaustible source of obseryation and design; to the philosopher, the supposed scene of some of Plato's conversations will not be unwelcome; and the traveller will be struck with the beauty of the prospect over “ Isles that crown the Ægean deep :" but, for an Englishman, Colonna has yet an additional interest, as the actual spot of Falconer's Ship wreck. Pallas and Plato are forgotten, in the recollection of Falconer and Campbell :
“ Here in the dead of night by Lonna's steep,
The seaman's cry was heard along the deep." This temple of Minerva may be seen at sea from a great distance. In two journeys which I made, and one voyage to Cape Colonna, the view from either side, by land, was less striking than the approach from the isles. In our second land excursion, we had a narrow escape from a party of Mainotes, concealed in the caverns beneath. We were told afterwards, by one of their prisoners, subsequently ransomed, that they were deterred from attacking us by the appearance of my two Albanians : conjecturing very sagaciously, but falsely, that we had a complete guard of these Arnaouts at hand, they remained stationary, and thus saved our party, which was too small to have opposed any effectual resist. ance. Colonna is no less a resort of painters than of pirates; there
“ The hireling artist plants his paltry desk,
(See Hodgson's Lady Jane Grey, &c.)