They tell me of thy youthful fame, they talk of victory won— -Speak thou, and I will hear! my child, Ianthis! my sweet son!" A wail was heard around the bed, the deathbed of the young, I would that I had follow'd thee, Ianthis, my belov'd! And stood as woman oft hath stood where faithful hearts are prov'd! That I had bound a breastplate on, and battled at thy side-It would have been a blessed thing together had we died! "But where was I when thou didst fall beneath the fatal sword? Was I beside the sparkling fount, or at the peaceful board? Or singing some sweet song of old, in the shadow of the vine, Or praying to the saints for thee, before the holy shrine? And thou wert lying low the while, the life-drops from thy heart Fast gushing like a mountain-spring!-and couldst thou thus depart? Couldst thou depart, nor on my lips pour out thy fleeting breath? -Oh! I was with thee but in joy, that should have been in death! "Yes! I was with thee when the dance through mazy rings was led, And when the lyre and voice were tun'd, and when the feast was spread; But not where noble blood flow'd forth, where sounding javelins flew -Why did I bear love's first sweet words, and not its last adieu ? What now can breathe of gladness more, what scene, what hour, what tone? The blue skies fade with all their lights, they fade, since thou art gone! Ev'n that must leave me, that still face, by all my tears unmov'd— -Take me from this dark world with thee, Ianthis! my belov'd!" A wail was heard around the bed, the death-bed of the young, source, And like a stag's, the rocks along, was thy fleet fearless course! "I come with flowers-for spring is come!—Ianthis! art thou here? I bring the garlands she hath brought, I cast them on thy bier! Thou shouldst be crown'd with victory's crown-but oh! more meet they seem, The first faint violets of the wood, and lilies of the stream! send, -Woe, that it smiles, and not for thee!-my brother and my friend!" THE PARTING SONG. This piece is founded on a tale related by Fauriel, in his " Chansons Populaires de la Grèce Moderne," and accompanied by some very interesting particulars respecting the extempore parting songs, or songs of expatriation, as he informs us they are called, in which the modern Greeks are accustomed to pour forth their feelings on bidding farewell to their country and friends. A YOUTH Went forth to exile, from a home The longest treasur'd, and most oft recall'd, That, with the murmur of its rocking pines And this was what he left!-Yet many leave Lives in affection's tones. He left not these. -Happy the weeper, that but weeps to part Was his-To part unlov'd !—of her unlov❜d, That should have breath'd upon his heart, like Spring, Fostering its young faint flowers! Yet had he friends, And they went forth to cheer him on his way The parting spot was reach'd:-a lone deep glen, |