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Loud was the lightsome tumult on the shore,
And when a transient breeze swept o'er the wave, !
’T was, as if darting from her heavenly throne,
A brighter glance her form reflected gave, [lave. Till sparkling billows seem'd to light the banks they
Glanced many a light caique along the foam,
Let sage or cynic pratile as he will,
“ A glorious form thy shining city wore,
'Mid cypress thickets of perennial green,
With minaret and golden dome between,
Of sculptured barques and galleys many a score;
Whence noise was none save that of plashing oar;
Who, mute as Sinbad's man of copper, rows,
1, hardly conscious if I dreamed or woke,
But, midst the throng in merry masquerade,
How do they loathe the laughter idly loud,
This must he feel, the true-born son of Greece,
Their birth, their blood, and that sublime record
When riseth Lacedemon's hardihood,
Can man its shatter'd splendour renovate,
And yet how lovely in thine age
So perish monuments of mortal birth,
Save where some solitary column mourns
While strangers only not regardless pass, Lingering like me, perchance, to gaze, and sigh“Alas!"
(1) On many of the mountains, particularly Liakura, the snow never is entirely melted, notwithstanding the intense heat of the summer ; but I never saw it lie on the plains, even in winter.
(2) Of Mount Pentelicus, from whence the marble wasdug that constructed the public edifices of Athens. The modern name is Mount Mendeli. An immense cave, formed by the quarries, still remains, and will till the end of time.
(3) In all Attica, if we except Athens itself and Marathon, there is no scene more interesting than Cape Colonna. To the antiquary and artist, sixteen columns are an inexhaustible source of observation and design; to the philosopher, the supposed scene of some of Plato's conversations will not be unwelcome; and the traveller will be struck with the beauty of the prospect over “ Isles that crown the Ægean deep :" but, for an Englishman, Colonna has yet an additional interest, as the actual spot of Falconer's Shipwreck. Pallas and Plato are forgotten, in the recollection of Falconer and Campbell :
Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild;
Still in his beam Mendeli’s marbles glare;
Where'er we tread 'tis haunted, holy ground,
Defies the power which crush'd thy temples gone:
“ Here in the dead of night by Lonna's steep,
The seaman's cry was heard along the deep."
“ The hireling artist plants his paltry desk,
(See Hodgson's Lady Jane Grey, &c.) But there Nature, with the aid of Art, has done that for herself. I was
LXXXIX. The sun, the soil, but not the slave, the same; Unchanged in all except its foreign lord Preserves alike its bounds and boundless fame The Battle-field, where Persia's victim horde First bow'd beneath the brunt of Hellas' sword, As on the morn to distant Glory dear, When Marathon became a magic word; (')
Which utter'd, to the hearer's eye appear The camp, the host, the fight, the conqueror's career,
The flying Mede, his shaftless broken bow;
The rifled urn, the violated mound,
fortunate enough to engage a very superior German artist; and hope to renew my acquaintance with this and many other Levantine scenes, by the arrival of his performances.
(1) “Siste Viator-heroa calcas !" was the epitaph on the famous Count Merci ; — what then must be our feelings when standing on the tumulus of the two hundred (Greeks) who fell on Marathon? The principal barrow has recently been opened by Fauvel : few or no relics, as vases, &c. were found by the excavator. The plain of Marathon was offered to me for sale at the sum of sixteen thousand piastres, about nine hundred pounds! Alas! -“ Expende - quot libras in duce summo — invenies !"was the dust of Miltiades worth no more? It could scarcely have fetched less if sold by weight.