Page:Sea songster.pdf/23

23 Why should we get our sail unfurl, There is not a breath the blue wave to curl; But when the wind blows off the shore, Oh! sweetly we'll rest our weary oar, Blow, breezes, blow; the stream runs fast, The rapids are near, and the daylight's past.

Utawa', tide; this trembling moon Shall see us float o'er thy surges soon! Saint of this green isle! hear our prayers, Oh! grant us cool heavens and favouring airs: Blow, breezes, blow, the stream runs fast, The rapids are near, and the daylight's past!

THE GRECIAN'S SONG. Ah! say not ye ruler, ye tyrants of Greece,
 * Ah! say not that freedom defend our green shore,

O tell not our sons that fair plenty was smiling,
 * Ah! freedom and plenty, alas! are no more.

We ask not for mercy from tyrants so cruel,
 * Our rights we demand, and our rights we shall have,

We still shall inherit the blood of our fathers,
 * Who fell at famed Marathon,—their country to save,

O hush'd be the trumpet that wakes the war-lion,
 * Fair Peace we adore thee with olive so green,

But say, shall breve millions ay bow to oppression,
 * And weep out existence in sorrow and pain.

No—mark the brave sons of the land of Columbia,
 * Their broad spreading eagle fair freedom unfolds.

Their rich glowing vallies are sounding with gladness!
 * And each toiling peasant sweet plenty beholds.

O come, yo Spartans! tho' dreary the prospect,
 * Come, for our children demand no delay;

Arouse! or our country will fall into ruins,
 * And grim-eyed oppression will hail the dark day.

Then rally, ye Grecians—thy chiefs, O famed Luctra!
 * Still gaze on our sons, though enwrapt with a chain;

Arouse! from thy fetters, fair land of the sages,
 * And boast not of famous Lucargus in vain.

FINIS.