"THE sky is bright — the breeze is fair, "And the mainsail flowing, full and free

"Our farewell word is woman's prayer, "And the hope before us - Liberty! "Farewell, farewell. "To Greece we give our shining blades,

"And our hearts to you, young Zean Maids!

"The moon is in the heavens above, "And the wind is on the foaming

sea

66 Thus shines the star of woman's love "On the glorious strife of Liberty!

"Farewell, farewell.

"To Greece we give our shining blades,

"And our hearts to you, young Zean Maids!"

Thus sung they from the bark, that

now

Turned to the sea its gallant prow,
Bearing within it hearts as brave,
As e'er sought Freedom o'er the wave;
And leaving on that islet's shore,

Where still the farewell beacons burn, Friends that shall many a day look o'er The long, dim sea for their return.

Virgin of Heaven! speed their way Oh, speed their way, the chosen flower,

Of Zea's youth, the hope and stay

Of parents in their wintry hour,
The love of maidens and the pride
Of the young, happy, blushing bride,
Whose nuptial wreath has not yet died

you.

Home to your chambers! home, and pray
For the bright coming of that day,
When, blest by heaven, the Cross shall
sweep

The Crescent from the Ægean deep,
And your brave warriors, hastening back,
Will bring such glories in their track,
As shall, for many an àge to come,
Shed light around their name and home.

There is a Fount on Zea's isle, Round which, in soft luxuriance, smile All the sweet flowers, of every kind,

On which the sun of Greece looks down,

Pleased as a lover on the crown His mistress for her brow hath twined, When he beholds each floweret there, Himself had wisht her most to wear; Here bloomed the laurel-rose,1 whose wreath

Hangs radiant round the Cypriot shrines,

1 "Nerium Oleander. In Cyprus it retains its ancient name, Rhododaphne, and the Cypriots

Dishevelled, o'er her azure bed; All these bright children of the clime, (Each at its own most genial time, The summer, or the year's sweet prime,) Like beautiful earth-stars, adorn The Valley where that Fount is born: While round, to grace its cradle green, Groups of Velani oaks are seen Towering on every verdant height — Tall, shadowy, in the evening light, Like Genii set to watch the birth Of some enchanted child of earthFair oaks that over Zea's vales,

Stand with their leafy pride unfurled; While Commerce from her thousand sails

Scatters their fruit throughout the world! 4

That on the maiden's mirror rests, Not swifter, lighter from the glass, Than sadness from her brow doth pass.

Soon did they now, as round the Well

They sat, beneath the rising moonAnd some with voice of awe would tell Of midnight fays and nymphs who dwell

In holy founts - while some would

tune

Their idle lutes that now had lain
For days without a single strain; -
And others, from the rest apart,
With laugh that told the lightened heart,
Sat whispering in each other's ear
Secrets that all in turn would hear;-
Soon did they find this thoughtless play
So swiftly steal their griefs away,

That many a nymph tho' pleased
the while,

Reproached her own forgetful smile, And sighed to think she could be gay.

Among these maidens there was one Who to Leucadia 5 late had been

5 Now Santa Maura the island, from whose cliffs Sappho leaped into the sea.

Had stood beneath the evening sun
On its white towering cliffs and seen
The very spot where Sappho sung
Her swan-like music, ere she sprung
(Still holding, in that fearful leap,
By her loved lyre,) into the deep,
And dying quenched the fatal fire,
At once, of both her heart and lyre.

Mutely they listened all and well Did the young travelled maiden tell Of the dread height to which that steep Beetles above the eddying deep 1Of the lone sea-birds, wheeling round The dizzy edge with mournful sound And of those scented lilies 2 found Still blooming on that fearful place As if called up by Love to grace The immortal spot o'er which the last Bright footsteps of his martyr past!

While fresh to every listener's thought
These legends of Leucadia brought
All that of Sappho's hapless flame
Is kept alive, still watcht by Fame -
The maiden, tuning her soft lute,
While all the rest stood round her,
mute,

Thus sketched the languishment of soul,
That o'er the tender Lesbian stole;
And in a voice whose thrilling tone
Fancy might deem the Lesbian's own,
One of those fervid fragments gave,
Which still, like sparkles of Greek
Fire,

Undying, even beneath the wave,

Burn on thro' Time and ne'er expire.

SONG.

As o'er her loom the Lesbian Maid

In love-sick languor hung her head, Unknowing where her fingers strayed, She weeping turned away, and said, "Oh, my sweet Mother- 't is in vain

"I cannot weave, as once I wove

1 "The precipice, which is fearfully dizzy, is about one hundred and fourteen feet from the water, which is of a profound depth, as appears from the dark blue color and the eddy that plays round the pointed and projecting rocks. Goodisson's Ionian Isles.

2 See Mr. Goodisson's very interesting description of all these circumstances.

Of some lost melody, some strain Of other times, whose faded trace She sought among those chords again, Slowly the half-forgotten theme

(Tho' born in feelings ne'er forgot) Came to her memory -as a beam

Falls broken o'er some shaded spot; And while her lute's sad symphony

Filled up each sighing pause between; And Love himself might weep to see What ruin comes where he hath been

As withered still the grass is found Where fays have danced their merry round

Thus simply to the listening throng
She breathed her melancholy song:

3 I have attempted, in these four lines, to give some idea of that beautiful fragment of

But some there were among the group Of damsels there too light of heart To let their spirits longer droop,

Even under music's melting art; And one upspringing with a bound From a low bank of flowers, looked round

With eyes that tho' so full of light

Had still a trembling tear within;
And, while her fingers in swift flight
Flew o'er a fairy mandolin,
Thus sung the song her lover late

Had sung to her the eve before
That joyous night, when as of yore
All Zea met to celebrate

The Feast of May on the sea-shore.

Sappho, beginning yλureîa pârep, which represents so truly (as Warton remarks) "the languor and listlessness of a person deeply in love."

SONG.

WHEN the Balaika 1
Is heard o'er the sea,
I'll dance the Romaika
By moonlight with thee.
If waves then advancing
Should steal on our play,
Thy white feet in dancing
Shall chase them away.2
When the Balaika

Is heard o'er the sea, Thou 'lt dance the Romaika My own love, with me.

Then at the closing
Of each merry lay,
How sweet 't is, reposing
Beneath the night ray!
Or if declining

The moon leave the skies, We'll talk by the shining Of each other's eyes.

Oh then how featly

The dance we 'll renew,' Treading so fleetly

Its light mazes thro': 3 Till stars, looking o'er us

From heaven's high bowers, Would change their bright chorus For one dance of ours! When the Balaika

Is heard o'er the sea, Thou 'It dance the Romaika, My own love, with me.

1 This word is defrauded here, I suspect, of a syllable; Dr. Clarke, if I recollect right, makes it "Balalaika."

2 "I saw above thirty parties engaged in dancing the Romaika upon the sand; in some of these groups, the girl who led them chased the retreating wave." - Douglas on the Modern Greeks.

3 "In dancing the Romaika [says Mr. Douglas] they begin in slow and solemn step till they have gained the time, but by degrees the air becomes more sprightly; the conductress of the dance sometimes setting to her partner, sometimes darting before the rest, and leading them through the most rapid revolutions; sometimes crossing under the hands, which are held up to let her pass, and giving as much liveliness and intricacy as she can to the figures, into which she conducts her companions, while their business is to follow her in all her movements, without breaking the chain, or losing the measure."