In secret we niet In silence I grieve, That thy heart could forget, Thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee After long years, How should I greet thee?— MAID OF ATHENS Ζώη μοῦ, σᾶς ἀγαπῶ. Give, oh give me back my heart! By those tresses unconfined, Kiss thy soft cheeks' blooming tinge; By that lip I long to taste; By all the token-flowers that tell What words can never speak so well; Maid of Athens! I am gone: ΤΟ Think of me, sweet! when alone. 20 Athens holds my heart and soul; AND THOU ART DEAD "Heu, quanto minus est cum reliquis versari quam tui meminisse!" AND thou art dead, as young and fair As aught of mortal birth; And form so soft, and charms so rare, There is an eye which could not brook I will not ask where thou liest low, There flowers or weeds at will may grow, So I behold them not: It is enough for me to prove That what I loved, and long must love, Like common earth can rot; To me there needs no stone to tell,· Yet did I love thee to the last As fervently as thou, Who didst not change through all the past, And canst not alter now. The love where Death has set his seal, Nor age can chill, nor rival steal, Nor falsehood disavow: And, what were worse, thou canst not see The better days of life were ours; The worst can be but mine: The sun that cheers, the storm that lowers, ΤΟ 20 30 The silence of that dreamless sleep Nor need I to repine That all those charms have pass'd away; I might have watch'd through long decay. The flower in ripen'd bloom unmatch'd Since earthly eye but ill can bear To trace the change to foul from fair. I know not if I could have borne The night that follow'd such a morn Had worn a deeper shade: Thy day without a cloud hath pass'd, Extinguish'd, not decay'd; As stars that shoot along the sky As once I wept, if I could weep, My tears might well be shed, Uphold thy drooping head; 40 50 60 Yet how much less it were to gain, The all of thine that cannot die Through dark and dread Eternity And more thy buried love endears THE GLORY THAT WAS GREECE CLIME of the unforgotten brave ! These waters blue that round you lave, O servile offspring of the free- These scenes, their story not unknown, They too will rather die than shame: While kings, in dusty darkness hid, KNOW YE THE LAND KNOW ye the land where the cypress and myrtle Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime? Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle, Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime? Know ye the land of the cedar and vine, 30 39 Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever shine; ΤΟ Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky, And the purple of ocean is deepest in dye; Where the virgins are soft as the roses they twine, And all, save the spirit of man, is divine? 'Tis the clime of the East; 'tis the land of the Sun Can he smile on such deeds as his children have done? Oh! wild as the accents of lovers' farewell Are the hearts which they bear, and the tales which they tell. 19 |