Page:Poems Sigourney, 1834.pdf/155

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Summer breathed in Scio. Gay she hung Her coronal upon the olive boughs, Flushed the rich clusters on the ripening vines, And shook fresh fragrance from the citron groves 'Till every breeze was satiate. But the sons Of that fair isle bore winter in their soul, For 'mid the temples of their ancestors, And through the weeping mastic bowers, their step Was like the man who hears the oppressor's voice In Nature's softest echo. The stern Turk In sullen domination idly roamed Where mighty Homer awed the listening world. Once to the proud Divan, with stately step A youth drew near: Surpassing beauty sate Upon his princely brow, and from his eye A glance like lightning parted as he spake. "I had a jewel. From my sires it came In long transmission; and upon my soul There was a bond to keep it for my sons. Tis gone, and in its place a false one shines. I ask for justice." Brandishing aloft His naked scimitar, the Cadi cried "By Allah and his Prophet! guilt like this Shall feel the avenger's stroke. Show me the wretch Who robbed thy casket." Then the appellant tore The turban from his head, and cast it down;