Page:Tristram of Lyonesse and other poems (IA tristramoflyonesswinrich).pdf/190

 But the fathers of their spirits, how may men adore them, With what rapture may we praise, who bade our souls be free? Sons of Athens born in spirit and truth are all born free men; Most of all, we, nurtured where the north wind holds his reign: Children all we sea-folk of the Salaminian seamen, Sons of them that beat back Persia they that beat back Spain. Since the songs of Greece fell silent, none like ours have risen; Since the sails of Greece fell slack, no ships have sailed like ours; How should we lament not, if her spirit sit in prison? How should we rejoice not, if her wreaths renew their flowers? All the world is sweeter, if the Athenian violet quicken: All the world is brighter, if the Athenian sun return: All things foul on earth wax fainter, by that sun’s light stricken: All ill growths are withered, where those fragrant flower-lights burn. All the wandering waves of seas with all their warring waters Roll the record on for ever of the sea-fight there,