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3.
Sparta, Sparta, why in slumbers

Lethargic dost thou lie?
Awake, and join thy numbers

With Athens, old ally!
Leonidas recalling,

That chief of ancient song,
Who saved ye once from falling,

The terrible! the strong!
Who made tbat bold diversion

In old Thermopylæ,
And warring with the Persian

To keep bis country free;
With his three hundred waging

The battle, long be stood,
And like a lion raging,
Expired in seas of blood.

Sons of Greeks, &c.

TO THYRZA. WITHOUT a stone to mark the spot,

And say, what Truth might well have said, By all, save one, perchance forgot,

Ah, wherefore art thou lowly laid? By many a shore and many a sea

Divided, yet beloved in vain; The past, the future fled to thee

To bid us meet-10-be'er again! Could this have been a word, a look

That softly said, “ we part in peace, Had taught my bosom how to brook,

With fainter sighs, thy soul's release.

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And didst thou not, since Death for thee

Prepared a light and pangless dart, Once long for him thou ne'er shalt see,

Who held, and holds thee in his heart? Oh! who like him had watch'd thee bere?

Or sadly mark'd thy glazing eye, In that dread hour ere death appear,

When silent Sorrow fears to sigh, Till all was past? But when no more

'Twas thine to reck of buman wo, Affection's heart-drops, gushing o'er,

Had flow'd as fast-as now they flow. Shall they not flow, when many a day

In these, to me, deserted towers, Ere call'd but for a time away,

Affection's mingling tears were ours? Ours too the glance kone saw beside;

The smile none else might understand; The whisper'd thought of hearts allied,

The pressure of the thrilling hand; The kiss so guiltless and refined

That Love each warmer wish forbore; Those eyes proclaim'd so pure a mind,

Even passion blush'd to plead for more. The tone that taught me to rejoice,

When prone, unlike thee, to repine; The song, celestial from thy voice,

But sweet to me from none but tbine; The pledge we wore~ I wear it still,

But where is thine!-ah, where art thou: Oft have I borne the weight of ill,

But never bent beneath till now! Well hast thou left in life's best bloom

The cup of wo for me to drain : If rest alone be in the tomb,

I would not wish thee here again; But if in worlds more blest than this

Thy virtues seek a fitter sphere, Impart some portion of thy bliss,

To wean me from mide anguish hero. Teach metoo early taught by thee!

To bear, forgiving and forgiven: On earth thy love was such to me;

It fain would form my hope in beaven!

STANZAS.

1. war, away, ye notes of wo!

Be silent thou once soothing strain, Or I must flee from hence, for, oh!

I dare not trust those sounds again. To me they speak of brighter days

But lull the chords, for now, alas! I must not think, I may not gaze

On what I am, on what I was.

2. The voice that made those sounds more sweet

Is hush'd, and all their charms are fled; And now their softest notes repeat

A dirge, an anthem o'er the dead! Yes, Thyrza! yes, they breathe of thee,

Beloved dust! since dust thou art; And all that once was harmony

Is worse than discord to my heart!

3, 'Tis silent all!--but on my ear

The well-remember'd echoes thrill;

I hear a voice I would not hear,

A voice that now might well be still, Yet oft my doubting soul 'twill shake:

Even slumber owns its geotle tone, Till consciousness will vainly wake

To listen, though the dream be flown.

4. Sweet Thyrza! waking as in sleep,

Thou art but now a lovely dream; A star that trembled o'er the deep,

Then turn'd from earth its tender beam. But be, who through life's dreary way

Must pass, when heaven is veil'd in wrath, Will long lament the vanish'd ray

That scatter'd gladness o'er his path.

TO THYRZA.

1. One struggle more, and I am free

From pangs that rend my heart in twain; One last long sigh to love and thee,

Then back to busy life again. It suits me well to mingle now

With things that never pleased before: Though every joy is fled below,

What future grief cap touch me more?

2. Then bring me wine, the banquet bring;

Man was not form’d to live alone: I'll be that light unmeaning thing That smiles with all, and weeps with none. It was not thus in days more dear,

It never would have been, but thou Hast fled, and left me lonely bere;

Thou’rt nothing, all are nothing now,

3. In vain my lyre would lightly breathe!

The smile that sorrow fain would wear
But mocks the wo that lurks beneath,

Like roses o'er a sepulchre.
Though 'gay companions o’er the bowl

Dispel awhile the sense of ill;
Tbough pleasure fires the maddening soul,

The heart-the heart is lonely still!

4. On many a lone and lovely night

It sooth'd to gaze upon the sky; For then I deem's the heavenly light

Shone sweetly on thy pensive eye: And oft I thought at Cynthia's noon,

When sailing o'er the Ægean wave, “Now Thyrza gazes on that moon–

Alas, it gleam'd upon her grave!

5. When stretch'd fever's sleepless bed,

And sickness shrunk my throbbing veins, 66 'Tis comfort still," I faintly said,

“ That Thyrza cannot know my pains:" Like freedom to the time-worn slave,

A boon 'tis idle then to give, Relenting Nature vainly gave

My life, when Thyrza ceased to live!

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