What, silent still? and silent all? And answer, 'Let one living head, But one arise-we come, we come!' 'Tis but the living who are dumb. In vain-in vain: strike other chords; And shed the blood of Scio's vine! You have the Pyrrhic dance as yet; The nobler and the manlier one? Fill high the bowl with Samian wine! We will not think of themes like these! It made Anacreon's song divine : He served-but served Polycrates A tyrant; but our masters then Were still, at least, our countrymen. The tyrant of the Chersonese Was freedom's best and bravest friend; That tyrant was Miltiades! Oh! that the present hour would lend Another despot of the kind! Such chains as his were sure to bind. Fill high the bowl with Samian wine! Such as the Doric mothers bore; Trust not for freedom to the Franks- Fill high the bowl with Samian wine! Place me on Sunium's marbled steep, Where nothing, save the waves and I, ON THE DAY I COMPLETE MY THIRTY-SIXTH YEAR. IS time this heart should be unmoved, 'TIS Since others it hath ceased to move : Yet, though I cannot be beloved, Still let me love! My days are in the yellow leaf; The flowers, the fruits of love are gone; The fire that on my bosom preys The hope, the fear, the jealous care, But 'tis not thus-and 'tis not here Such thoughts should shake my soul, nor now Where glory decks the hero's bier, Or binds his brow. The sword, the banner, and the field, Awake! (not Greece-she is awake!) Tread those reviving passions down, If thou regret'st thy youth, why live? Is here:-up to the field, and give Seek out-less often sought than foundA soldier's grave, for thee the best ; Then look around, and choose thy ground, And take thy rest. 邀 THOMAS MOORE. Born 1779. Died 1852. 'MY MY BIRTHDAY. Y birthday!'--what a different sound When first our scanty years are told, How hard that chain will press at last! He would do all that he had done.1 Lavished unwisely, carelessly- 1 Fontenelle: 'Si je recomençais ma carrière, je ferai tout ce que j'ai fait.' |