Still for their suffering land we trust,
Wherein the past its fame hath laid
With freedom’s sword and valour’s dust.
[250] See Potter’s Grecian Antiquities, vol. ii. p. 234.
THE MYRTLE BOUGH.
Still green, along our sunny shore,
The flowering myrtle waves,
As when its fragrant boughs of yore
Were offer’d on the graves—
The graves wherein our mighty men