Made such by steps of patriots; thy high fame,
Alway unto our ears, a glorious sound,
Kindles, in all high hearts, heroic flame.
I walk beneath thy forests, high and lone,
I hear a voice that sinks into my heart,
The voice of fetterless Liberty; the tone
Which bids the flame of patriotism start.
Greece was the land of heroes, and her soil
Is sacred with the deathless memory
Of martyred virtue, which on Death could smile,