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Banners of battle o'er him hung,
And warriors slept beneath, And light, as noon's broad light, was flung On the settled face of death.
On the settled face of death
A strong and ruddy glare, [breath,
Of earthly years to show,
The marble floor was swept
As the kneeling priests round him that slept,
And solemn were the strains they poured
With the cross above, and the crown and
There was heard a heavy clang,
With a sounding thrill of dread;
And the holy chant was hushed awhile,
A gleam of arms up the sweeping isle,
He came with haughty look
An eagle glance and clear, [shook But his proud heart through his breast-plate As he stood beside the bier;
He stood there still with drooping brow,
And silently he strove
With the workings of his breast; But there's more in late repentant love, Then steel may keep suppressed!
And his tears brake forth, at last like rain; Men held their breath in awe,
For his face was seen by his warrior train, And he recked not that they saw.
He looked upon the dead,
He stoop'd and kiss'd the frozen cheek,
"Oh, father! is it vain,
This late remorse and deep?
Alas! my guilty pride and ire!
"Speak to me: mighty grief
"Thy silver hairs I see
I bore thee down high heart at last,
"Thou wert the noblest king
On royal throne e'er seen,
And thou didst wear in knightly ring
Of all the statliest mien;
And thou didst prove where spears are proved,
Oh! ever the renowned and loved,
Thou that my boyhood's guide
How will that sad, still face of thine,
Look on me till I die !"
SONG OF THE GREEK BARD.
THE isles of Greece, the isles of Greece!
Where Delos rose and Phoebus sprung!
The Scian and the Teian muse,
The hero's harp, the lover's lute,
The mountains look on Marathon
And Marathon looks on the sea; And, musing there an hour alone,
I dream'd that Greece might still be free;
For standing on the Persian's grave,