To make a new Thermopylæ!

What, silent still? and silent all?

Ah! no: the voices of the dead

Sound like a distant torrent’s fall,

And answer, “Let one living head,

But one arise,—we come, we come!”

’Tis but the living who are dumb.

In vain—in vain; strike other chords;

Fill high the cup with Samian wine!

Leave battles to the Turkish hordes,