Page:Landon in Literary Gazette 1826.pdf/16

14

, fill the goblet, till the wave Dances above the golden rim, Sparkling as if a thousand stars We're floating on the purple brim.

Here is a rose, sweet as if Spring Had yielded her first love-sigh there— This red leaf has touch'd Leila's lip, And this has fallen from her hair.

Ay, fling the crimson leaves to float Like kisses on the sunny wine— Hallow it with thy maiden's name— Drink thou thy pledge—I will drink mine.

Here drink I to proud Marathon— Here drink I to our own blue skies— Here drink I to the Crescent's fall— Here drink I to the Cross's rise—

I drink to the red pine of War, And to the olive green of Peace— Here's to Greece and its memories— And here is to the hopes of Greece!

Break, break the cup—no meaner pledge This sacred goblet must profane; And may its fragments emblem those Predestined to the Moslem chain! L. E. L.