1852.] THE PHILADELPHIA FLOR IST. 81 



U) A Voice from Marathon. £©■) 



O £A Suppressed Poem — By Tom Moore, the Irish Poet.] c (j 



(.'. _ ~.. ... ... \ 



O for a voice as loud as that of Fame, 

 To breathe the word — Arise! 



From Pindus io Taygetus to proclaim — 

 Let every Greek, arise ! 



Ye who have hearts to strike a single 

 blow, 



Hear my despairing: cries ! 

 Ye who have bands to immolate one foe, 



Arise! arise! arise! 



From the dim fields of Asphodel beneath, 



Up'iorne by cloudy sighs 

 Of those who love their country still in 

 death — 



Even I — even J — arise ! 



These are not hands for earthly wringing, 

 these! — 



Blood should not blind these eves; 

 Yet here I srand, uniomb'd Miltiades, 



Weeping — arise! arise! 



Hear ye the srroans that heave this burial 

 field? 

 Old Graecia*s saviour-band 



High-bosom 'd Greece, thro' her unnum- 

 ber'd vales, 

 Broke forth in glorious song! 

 Her classic streams that plough the head- 

 long dales, 

 Thunder'd the notes along! 



But there's a bloodier wreath to gain, oh 

 friends! 



Now rise, or ever fall ! 

 If ye fight now no fiercer ihan the fiends, 



Belter not fight at all ! 



The feverish war-drum mingles with the 

 fife 



In dismal symphony, 

 And Moslem strikes at liberty and life — 



For both, strike harder ye ! 



Mark! how Cithaeron with his earthquake 

 voice 



Calls to the utmost shores! 

 While Pluto bars, against the riving noise 



His adamantine doors ! 



Athene, tiptoe on her crumbling dome, 



Cry from the dust — "Fight on! nor dare Cries "Youth, ye must be men! 



to yield ! 

 Save ye our father-land! 



" Blunt with your bosom the barbaric 

 spear ! 

 Break it within your breas'; 

 Then come, brave Greek! and join your 

 bro'hers here 

 In our immortal rest!" 



Shall modern Datis, swoln with Syrian 

 pride, 

 Cover the land with slaves! — 



Ay — let them cover it, both far and wide- 

 Cover it with their graves! 



Much has been done— but more remains 



to do — 



Ye have fought long and well! 



The trump that, on the iEgean, glory 



blew, 



Seem'd with a storm to swell! 



Asia's grim tyrant shuddered at the 

 sound, 

 He leap'd upon his throne; 

 Murmur'd his horse-tail'd chieftainry 

 around — 

 "Another Marathon!" 



DoJona. 'mid h^r fanes and forests hoar 

 Heard it with solemn glee : 



And old Pirnassus, with a lofty roar, 

 Told it from 6ea to sea ! 



A.nd Echo shouts within her rocky tomb, 

 "Greeks, become Greeks again!" 



The stone first brought his living tomb 

 to close, 



Pausanias' mother piled: 

 Matrons of Greece will ye do less for foes 



Than she did for her child? 



Let boyhood strike! — let every rank and 

 age 

 Do each what each can do! 

 Let him whose arm is mighty as his rage 

 Strike deep — strike home — strike 

 through! 



Be wise, be firm, be cautious, yet be 

 bold! 

 Be brother-true — be One! 

 I teach but what the Phrygian taught of 

 old— 

 Divide, and be undone! 



[iallow'd in life, in death itself, is he 



Who for his country dies ; 

 A light, a star to all futurity — 



Arise ye, then! arise! 



countrymen! O countrymen ! once 

 more — 



By earth — and seas — and skies — 

 By Heaven — by sacred Hades — I implore! 



Arise! arise! arise ! 



O Thorns or Spinas are soft in May and June ; they grow woody to- A 

 P wards winter, and become more dangerous. May Thorns are ye'ry-g • 

 '/* striking specimens of Horticulture. cfy 



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