THE SISTERS OF SCIO.* 



WEEP'ST thou for Greece, my sister, say ? 

 And weep'st thou for her glory o'er ? 

 And must thy lyre's once happy lay 

 Breathe forth a happy strain no more ? 



Weep not for Greece ! she is not dead, 

 Our brothers count them of the free ; 

 They pant for glory's hallowed bed, 

 Or pant for glorious liberty ! 



And is it so ! and wilt thou weep, 

 And dost thou deem thy brother slave ? 

 His mind his soul alike asleep 

 Unworthy of the name of Brave ? 



Strike high thy lyre ! and give the wind 

 A lay like it all wild and free ! 

 Even we must never be behind, 

 To urge our land to liberty. 



Look round ! the sky and sun are bright, 

 And music swells in every breeze ; 

 There's merry carols from the height, 

 And Freedom's chaunted from the trees 



Look round ! a Spirit passes by ! 

 I hear his voice in thunder borne ; 

 And darkness veils the summer sky, 

 And drowns the rosy beams of morn ! 



He cries " Awake ! old Greece, awake ! 

 The Genius of thy children calls ! 

 For Fame, for Freedom's hallow'd sake, 

 Rise and defend your helpless walls 1" 



So rise ! our hearths' unguarded glow 



Provokes barbarians' ruthless hand 



Arise ! and strike th* intruder low, 



And guard our ocean- girdled land ! M. 



* It is but justice to a very talented artist to state that the above verses were 

 suggested by a drawing which, I think, appeared in one of the Annuals of 1832, 

 bearing the name of" The Sisters of Scio." It appeared to me that the feeling 

 and beauty of the painter were but feebly illustrated in the tale appended to the 

 engraving. Whether I may have succeeded in catching somewhat of that feel- 

 ing, it is'not, of course, for me to determine. 



