There had the | Persian's | thousands | stood,

There had the | glad earth drunk their | blood | old Pla- | tæa's | day: |

On

And now, there | breathed that | haunted | air | The sons of sires who conquered there, | With arm to strike and soul to | dare, | As quick, as far as they.

739.

An hour pass'd | onthe | Turk a- | woke :

That

1971
bright

dream was his last; 71 He woke to hear his sentry's shriek, ។ "To arms! they come! the Greek, the | Greek." ។ |

He woke to die midst | flame and | smoke,
And shout, and groan, and | sabre stroke,

And

1

death-shots | falling | thick and | fast | from the mountain | cloud; 1771

As | lightnings

Strike for the green | graves of your sires,

God

-

and your native | land!"

They fought, like brave men, long and ❘ well

740.

with | Moslem | slain, |

They piled that ground

They conquered —| | but Boz- | zaris | fell,

Bleeding at every vein. 1111171771
| | |

His few sur- | viving | comrades || saw
His smile, when rang their proud | hurrah, |

Come to the

bridal chamber, | Death! |

Come to the mother, when she feels,

1

For the first time, her first-born's | breath; | Come when the blessed | seals |

Which

close the pestilence

are broke, 11791 And crowded cities | wail its stroke; -71771 Come in consumption's ghastly | form,

The earthquake | shock,

Come when the

the ocean | storm;
heart beats | high and | warm, ||

With banquet | song, and
thou art | terrible!

| And

The groan, the | knell,

dance, and | wine, ¶¦

the tear,

the | pall, 1| 1

or | dream, or | fear | thine. | 991 991

prophet's | word, 1771

The thanks of

Boz- zaris!

Greece nurtured

And in its hollow | tones are | heard |

Rest thee

millions | yet to be.

with the storied | brave | in her glory's time, 1771 there is no | prouder | grave, |

Even in her own proud clime. 11 171 We tell thy | doom with- | out a | sigh; | For thou art | Freedom's | now, and | Fame's; 171 One of the few, the im- | mortal | names, That were not | born to die. 1991 991.

743.

ANTONY'S ORATION OVER CESAR'S BODY.

Friends, Romans, Countrymen! | M Lend me your ears;

I come to bury | Cæsar, not to | praise | him. I

The evil, that

1971

men | do, | lives | after them;

The good is bones:

oft in- | terred

with their |

So let it be with Cæsar! The noble |

Brutus,

Hath told you, Cæsar was am- bitious. I If it were so, it was a grievous | fault; | 771 And grievously hath | Cæsar | answered it. Here, | under | leave of | Brutus and the rest, | (For Brutus is an honorable | man, | 11 |

So are they all,
Come Ito speak

all

honorable | men :) | 77 | in Cæsar's | funeral. 17971

744.

He was my friend,* || faithful | and | just to |

me:

But Brutus | says

|

he was am- | bitious; |

And Brutus is an | honorable | man. || 771

Did this

When that the

Ambition

many | captives | home to | Rome, | did the general | coffers | fill

in | Cæsar | seem am- | bitious? | MIMI poor have cried, || Cæsar hath | wept; 171

should be made of sterner | stuff. |

771771

* See Number 528, page 77.

Yet Brutus | says And Brutus 711

he

is an

was am- | bitious; |
honorable | man.

Yet

You all did | see,

I thrice pre- | sented him
Which he did thrice

this ambition? |

Brutus | says | he was am- | bitious; | And sure, he is an | honorable | man.

that,

745.

I speak not to dis- | prove what | Brutus | spoke;

But here I am to speak | what I do | know.

771

You all did | love him | once; not without |

cause:

What cause with- | holds you, then, to | mourn | for him?IMI

O | judgment, || Thou art | fled to | brutish | beasts,

And men have lost their reason! IMI Bear with me: |

My heart is in the coffin | there with | Cæsar;

And I must | pause till it | come back to me.

But yesterday,

746.

the

word of Cæsar | might |

Have stood against the world! || now

he there,

lies

11 And | none | so | poor to do him | rever

O masters! |

| If I were disposed to | stir | Your hearts and minds to mutiny and | rage, |

I should do Brutus | wrong, and Cassius | M│

wrong;

Who, you all | know, are honorable | men.

| |

I will not do | them | wrong; 11|I| rather | choose |

To wrong the

and you,

dead, to | wrong my- | self |

Than I will | wrong | such | honorable | men. | 1|

Let but the commons | hear this testament, |

(Which, pardon me,

And they would

wounds,

And dip their | napkins in his | sacred | blood; |

You all do | know | this | mantle: || I remem

ber

The first time | ever | Cæsar | put it | on; 11 'Twas on a summer's | evening, in his | tent;

That day

he overcame the | Nervii: | 1 Look! in this place | ran | Cassius' | dagger through!IMI

See what a rent the envious | Casca | made! |

771