GREEK AIR

List!‘ tis a Grecian maid that sings,

While, from Ilissus’ silvery springs,

She draws the cool lymph in her graceful urn;

And by her side, in Music's charm dissolving,

Some patriot youth, the glorious past revolving,

Dreams of bright days that never can return;

When Athens nurst her olive bough

With hands by tyrant power unchained;

And braided for the muse's brow

A wreath by tyrant touch unstained.

When heroes trod each classic field

Where coward feet now faintly falter;

When every arm was Freedom's shield,

And every heart was Freedom's altar!