"To-day thou art a wanderer sad, but thou shalt sit, erelong, Within thy fair ancestral hall, and hear the minstrel's song; To-day thou art a homeless man—to-morrow thou shalt stand— A conqueror and a sceptred king—upon thy native land.
XII.
"A cloud is on thy brow to-day—thy lot is poor and low, To all who gaze on thee thou seem'st a man of want and wo; But thou shalt drain the bowl erelong within thy own bright isle, A wreath of roses round thy head, and on thy brow a smile."
XIII.
And he called the proud Otanes, one of the seven was he Who laid the Magian traitor low, and set their country free; And he bade him man a gallant fleet, and sail without delay, To the pleasant isle of Samos, in the fair Icarian bay.
XIV.
"To place yon chief on Samos' throne, Otanes, be thy care, But bloodless let thy victory be, his Samian people spare!" For thus the generous chieftain said, when he made his high demand, "I had rather still an exile roam, than waste my native land."