The soul of him who scorn'd to fear or fly—
Who liv'd and died, as none can live or die!
But lo! from high Hymettus to the plain,1200
The queen of night asserts her silent reign.12
No murky vapour, herald of the storm,
Hides her fair face, nor girds her glowing form;
With cornice glimmering as the moon-beams play,
There the white column greets her grateful ray.
And bright around with quivering beams beset
Her emblem sparkles o'er the minaret:
The groves of olive scattered dark and wide
Where meek Cephisus pours his scanty tide.
The cypress saddening by the sacred mosque,1210
The gleaming turret of the gay Kiosk,13
And, dun and sombre 'mid the holy calm,
Near Theseus' fane yon solitary palm,
All tinged with varied hues arrest the eye—
And dull were his that pass'd them heedless by.
Again the Ægean, heard no more afar,
Lulls his chaf'd breast from elemental war;