Page:Hemans in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine 11 1822.pdf/10



there they sleep!—the men who stood In arms before th' exulting sun, And bath'd their spears in Persian blood, And taught the earth how Freedom might be won.

They sleep!–-th' Olympic wreaths are dead: Th’ Athenian lyres are hush'd and gone; The Dorian voice of song is fled— Slumber, ye mighty! slumber deeply on!

They sleep!–-and seems not all around As hallow'd unto Glory's tomb? Silence is on the battle-ground, The heavens are loaded with a breathless gloom.

And stars are watching on their height, But dimly seen through mist and cloud, And still and solemn is the light Which folds the plain, as with a glimmering shroud.