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I would that I had follow'd thee, Ianthis, my beloved !
are proved! That I had bound a breastplate on, and battled at thy
side-It would have been a blessed thing together bad we
“ 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
« Yes! I was with thee when the dance through mazy
rings was led, And when the lyre and voice were tuned, and when the
feast was spread ; But not where noble blood Aow'd forth, where sounding
javelins few-Why did I hear 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
unmoved -Take me from this dark world with thee, Ianthis ! my
A wail was heard around the bed, the deathbed of the
young, Amidst her tears the Funeral Chant a mournful sister sung. “ Ianthis ! brother of my soul !-oh! where are now the
days That laugh'd among the deep green hills, on all our
infant plays ?
When we two sported by the streams, or track'd them to
And like a stag's, the rocks along, was thy feet fearless
-I see the pines there waving yet, I see the rills descend, I see thy bounding step no more--my brother and my
“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 oli !
more meet they seem, The first faint violets of the wood, and lilies of the stream ! More meet for one so fondly loved, and laid thus early
low-Alas! how sadly sleeps thy face amidst the sunshine's
glow: The golden glow that through thy heart was wont such joy
to 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 with 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
And this was what he left !-Yet many leave
Yet had he friends, And they went forth to cheer him on his way Unto the parting spot—and she too went, That mother, tearless for her youngest-born.
The parting spot was reach'd :-a lone deep glen,