Poems (Linn)/On the Acropolis
ON THE ACROPOLIS.
I STOOD 'mid Athens' ruined pride Upon her mighty templed hill,And saw the beauties far and wide Of purple mount and harbor still,Of grazing sheep and flowery sod And winding roads the great have trod
The sunlight bathed Hymettus' crest, Fair smiling valleys stretched below;The very breezes from the west Brought me some tale of long ago,From Salamis across the bay Along the cactus-bordered way.
Grand arches! through which used to come The virgin train with downcast eyesLeading from some fair hill-side home The flower-decked bull of sacrifice;With flowing robes and tramp of feet, And sound of music low and sweet.
Where once the blood flowed red and free Upon the altar of the god, I picked a flower dear to me, A flower of New England sodA dandelion bright as gold, Grown from those ruins fair and old.
Bright as the fillets were that bound The midnight hair of Athens' maids;Strong as the love of gods that found Worship in arch and colonnades,And like the ones that blossom gay Beside my door-sill far away.
The old and new you seemed to bind, Gay flower, with the yellow hair.We often travel far to find The home-like beauties grow more fair:To learn that nature is the same Whatever land we choose to name
That human hearts and lives and ends Own the same purpose year by year;Dreams, hopes, the good that still contends With evil, prayer and doubt and fear,Still thrill the heart and fire the brain, Through lives of kindred joy and pain.
My soul bowed low to heed the sign Upon that templed hill of old; That ancient altar was the shrine; The priestess was that flower of gold;Praying to God of earth and skies:— A living heart was sacrifice.