’Twas the helpless to help, and the hopeless to save,
That your thunderbolts swept o’er the brine;
And as long as yon sun shall look down on the wave
The light of your glory shall shine.
For the guerdon ye sought with your bloodshed and toil,
Was it slaves, or dominion, or rapine, or spoil?
No! your lofty emprize was to fetter and foil
The uprooter of Greece’s domain!
When he tore the last remnant of food from her soil,
Till her famished sank pale as the slain!