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Of this ethereal seminary claim,
Which gives immortal vigour to sustain
The varying seasons, till old tyrant Time
Sooth'd by her charms, his deadly scythe resigns.

Conduct me, Clio! not to vine-ciad hills,
Pasture of herbage deep, nor genial mould
That loves the plough, and pays the peasant's toil
"Till his wide granaries refund the store :
It was not there that Freedom first drew breath,
Tho' soinetimes there she dwells. Oh


she dwell Long on the banks of Liger! may she learn

! To love the lowings of the lusty droves And sport amid the vines ! But on the verge, The sea-beat verge, where old * Cecropia's hills Over th' Ægean look with barren frown, With + us she first saw light. Even now she loves With light step o'er the lofty range to stray, From the hill's breezy brow to catch the gale, And listen to the carols of the lark Which wakes the toiling train. She loves to brace The nerves of her laborious band. From toil, From hard necessity she bids them learn How, from encroaching despots to defend Their pittance, dearly earn'd, and firmly hold With grasp of steel. Tho' in th' ungrateful soil The vegetable tribes in pigmy files Scarce colonize the long extended hills, And clothe their giant limbs with scanty robe, Let not their naked majesty, be scorn’d; For there, by sharp necessity compress’d, Like fame by frost, with unoppressive might, The mental energies ascend the sky,

* Attica, so called from Cecrops. + Viz. in Europe.

* And oft, like meteors, o'er the cultur'd plain
Terrific hang. But from the lighter hand
Of him, who from the long, luxuriant vale
Her tribute culls with ease, unnerv'd by dread
The cheap-earned blessing falls, as cheaply lost ;
Scard at the free-man's angry look he flies.
The freeman, in the bounty of the plain
Battens at ease, till slack’ning sloth untwines
Those nerves, that hurld the lance, or bent the bow.
Meantime to barren hills exil'd, the slave
From toil new strength obtains, the vig’rous task
Invigorates the mind, and down by hordes
Destructive as the torrent from the heights
Of Appenine, on their degen’rate foes
Once victors, down at once the vanquish'd come,
And vengeance, vengeance fires the cultur’d plain.

'Twas at that season when the pamper'd sons
Of Israel, scorn'd their Theocratic law,
And, drunk with licence, or in love with change,
Clamour'd for monarchy, just as the lamp
Of Liberty, to mortal vision lost,
Extinguish'd seem'! on CARMEL's lofty brow,
Or in mid ocean setting, far above
The windy contest, and conflicting brine,
An Angel bore it with unruffl'd beam
To fair Cecropia's shore. (A nobler freight
Than his, who wafted o'er the Ægean main
His deities from Ida to the strand
Where the wide Tuscan roars.) 'Twas then he saw,
He saw, and pitied, from Bæotia's plains,
By a fell band of Thracian pirates driven
Her antient habitants † in flying hordes,

* Frequent invasions of Asia by the Scythians. + This is an historical fact. See Pausanias in Atticis,

66 Turu on your

O'er wide Cecropia's limits, o'er her hills
In wild precipitance, till stretch'd afar
Below, th’interminable waste of waves
(Shipless, or by the solitary sail
Of Corsair only crost) impos'd a pause
On their disastrous flight. Not like the host
Of Israel, when the Red Sea stop'd their course,
Did they long stand aghast, but on their fues
Turn'd head and stood at bay. For mid their bands,
In show like a plebeian militant,
Walk'd their new guardian. “ Stop your flight,"
he cries,

fell pursuers! Yonder pass
“ Seize, and prevent the torrent of
" Who to the rocky porch innum'rous pour,
• Which seems to court their entrance.

your foes

From yon

brow " That glooms above the valley, downward sweep, * And bid invasion tremble! At yon pass, “ Where, with fraternal frown, the hostile hills “ Menace above their heads, prevent their haste, " And under rocky ruin thund'ring down, Their ranks o'erwhelm !” They heard, their swelling

hearts In full concordance to the descant bold, Danc'd a new measure: Like the rallying storm, Which midst two mountains eddies on the plain, They doubled on their foes. Their trembling foes Over the long vales fled in loose array, Or left their lives behind. Anon the song, Of triumph rises, but the Pæan soon Was dash'd with discontented murmurs, breath'd From mingled voices round: Why o'er those hills “ Delightless roam, or with repeated toil, 66 Force the delusive glebe to render up

“ Her scanty boon, ambiguous, hard to gain, “ And easy lost? Why not, with better hopes “ And better omens, while security “ With night and peace combin’d, have wrapt our

foes In deep Elysian charm, with close intent “ And stealthy pace fall on them, and expell (As late expell’d) the ruffians from our homes, “ And to our homes return?”—But now began A louder strain, as from no mortal voice, Deep as the thunder's prelude heard afar, And solemn as her tones. " Be those bleak hills “ Your home for ever! Here the sweeping storms “ Will bring you health and vigour, high resolves,

Aspiring thoughts, and mental energy, ,

Upon their frory pinions. Court no more “ TANAGRA's bowers of bliss, the green retreats • Throʻ which IsmEN Os wanders to the main “ Enchanted, ling’ring on with sweet delay; 66 There live the SYRENS, there the Lotos grows, “ Of which, whoever tastes, renounces straight “ The glorious image of the gods in man, “ His mem’ry and his worth. Be that revenge, “ To see your foes in these Circæan toils “ Entangled more, as each revolving moon " Marks their embarrassment, till time itself “ Without your toil destroys them, or presents “ An easy prey.”—They listen’d and obey’d.

Soon rose their hamlets on the breezy hills,
The Mother city by the toiling main
In rustic pomp ascends, unknown to fame:
For yet the length of the Piræan walls
Slept in the quarry, and the Attic name


No startling panic to the neighb'ring tribes
Brought in the sound. The long Hymettian vales,
Each held her band of harmless villagers,
Whose sole ambition was to turn the glebe,
To prune their olives, or their flocks attend,
Or on a festive morn, in rustic glee,
To foot the green sward morrice, or to share
The smoking victim by the simple Fane.
These future arbiters of nations, doom'd
To bear the freighted thunders of the state
From old Pelorus to the Caspian bound,
Nurst by content, with unambitious aim,
Follow'd their task inglorious, nor perceiv'd
That unextinguishable spark within
With horrible displosion doom'd to shake
The thrones of Elam, * to their basis deep.
Oft with mute rapture, on the Ægean wave,
Its fluid mirrour to the purple dawn,
Unfolding wide, they gaz’d, unconscious then
Of their own dawning triumphs, yet involv'd
In Time's prolific womb, o'er these blue waves,
And mid those cloud-cap'd isles, to break away,
In glory like the springing morn.

But now
Ægides' + mind, the glowing thought inspires
To raise his people o'er the neighb'ring tribes,
To bid them taste the deep enchanting cup
Of liberty, and feel their powers expand
From the nectareous draught. From woody haunts
The valley's deep recess, the sunny hill
And river's brim, much wondering at the call,
They reach the city; here the mountain tribes
Salute their brethren of the shore, and learn

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