wide,

But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride;

And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,

And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.

And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow and the rust on his mail;

And the tents were all silent. the banners

alone,

The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.

And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail;

And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal;

ranks are contending:

Bright is the wreath of our fame; glory awaits us for aye-

Glory, that never is dim, shining on with light never ending

Glory that never shall fade, never, oh! never away.

Oh! it is sweet for our country to die! How softly reposes

Warrior youth on his bier, wet by the tears of his love,

Wet by a mother's warm tears; they crown him with garlands of roses,

Weep, and then joyously turn, bright where he triumphs above.

the sword,

ilath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!

LORD BYRON.

HARMODIUS AND ARISTOGEITON.

I'LL wreathe my sword in myrtle bough,
The sword that laid the tyrant low,
When patriots burning to be free,
To Athens gave equality.

Harmodius, hail! though 'reft of breath,
Thou ne'er shalt feel the stroke of death;
The heroes' happy isles shall be
The bright abode allotted thee.

I'll wreathe my sword in myrtle bough,
The sword that laid Hipparchus low,
When at Athena's adverse fane
He knelt, and never rose again.

While freedom's name is understood,
You shall delight the wise and good;
You dared to set your country free,
And gave her laws equality.

Translation of LORD DENMAN. CALLISTRATUS (Greek).

who for country hath perished;

Hebe awaits him in heaven, welcomes him there with her smile;

There, at the banquet divine, the patriot spirit is cherished;

Gods love the young who ascend pure from the funeral pile.