CONTENTS. PAGE THE ISLES OF GREECE FROM MILTON'S PARADISE LOST, Book V. THE ROSE. FROM MILTON'S COMUS. MILTON'S PARADISE LOST, Book VII. 2 14 16 20 24 MACBETH RICHARD III. BYRON PSALM CXXXVII. FROM MOORE RICHARD III. PSALM C. FROM THE Two GENTLEMEN OF VERONA. MILTON'S COMUS. TE DEUM ELYSIUM. FROM PETRARCH 70 72 76 78 82 84 86 THE ISLES OF GREECE. [The lines of Lord Byron are printed, on account of the similarity of some passages in the Greek.] The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece, Where burning Sappho loved and sung, Where grew the arts of war and peace, Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung! Eternal summer gilds them yet, But all, except their sun, is set. The Scian and the Teian muse, The hero's harp, the lover's lute, Have found the fame your shores refuse; To sounds which echo further west Than your sires' Islands of the Bless'd.' THE ISLES OF GREECE. [This Ode obtained the Gold Medal in the University of Cambridge. A few alterations have been made in it since.] Εἴθε τις κούφαις πτερύγεσσιν ἄρας ἅ ποτ ̓ εἰς ἔρωτα καὶ ἡδονὰν κῆρ χαρμονὰν ἅβαν τε πνέοισα χορδάς καρδίας θρήνον δυσέρωτ ̓ ἐφώνει· The Mountains look on Marathon- And Marathon looks on the sea; And musing there an hour alone, I dream'd that Greece might still be free; For standing on the Persians' grave, I could not deem myself a slave. A king sate on the rocky brow Which looks o'er sea-born Salamis; And ships, by thousands, lay below, And men in nations :-all were his! He counted them at break of day- And where are they? and where art thou, My country? On thy voiceless shore The heroic lay is tuneless now The heroic bosom beats no more And must thy lyre, so long divine, |