ODE TO ELOQUENCE.
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See the olive branches waving O'er Ilissus' winding stream;Their lovely limbs the Naiad's laving, The Muses smiling by, supreme!
See the nymphs and swains advancing,To harmonious measures dancing: Grateful Io Peans riseTo thee, O Power! who canst inspireSoothing woods—;or words of fire, And shook thy plumes in Attic skies!
Lo! from the regions of the North, The reddening storm of battle pours;Rolls along the trembling earth, Fastens on the Olynthian towers.
"Where rests the sword?—where sleeps the brave?Awake! Cecropia's ally save From the fury of the blast;Burst the storm on Phocis' walls;Rise! or Greece for ever falls; Up! or Freedom breathes her last!"
The jarring States, obsequious now, View the Patriot's hand on high;Thunder gathering on his brow, Lightning flashing from his eye!
Borne by the tide of words along, One voice, one mind, inspire the throng;— "To arms! to arms! to arms!" they cry; "Grasp the shield, and draw the sword,Lead us on to Philippi's lord, Let us conquer him or die!"
Oh, Eloquence! thou wast undone, Wast from thy native country driven,When tyranny eclipsed the sun And blotted out the stars of heaven!
When Liberty from Greece withdrew,And o'er the Adriatic flew To where the Tiber pours his urn,She struck the rude Tarpeian rock—Sparks were kindled by the stroke— Again thy fires began to burn!
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