FROM A PAINTING BY WILLIAMS.
And there they sleep!—the men who stood
In arms before th’ exulting sun,
And bathed their spears in Persian blood,
And taught the earth how freedom might be won.
They sleep!—th’ Olympic wreaths are dead,
Th’ Athenian lyres are hush’d and gone;
The Dorian voice of song is fled—
Slumber, ye mighty! slumber deeply on.
They sleep—and seems not all around