Fame around her warriors living rang through Greece and lightened, [_Str. 2._ Moving equal with their stature, stately with their strength: Thebes and Lacedaemon at their breathing presence brightened, Sense or sound of them filled all the live land's breadth and length. All the lesser tribes put on the pure Athenian fashion, One Hellenic heart was from the mountains to the sea: Sparta's bitter self grew sweet with high half-human passion, And her dry thorns flushed aflower in strait Thermopylae. Fruitless yet the flowers had fallen, and all the deeds died fruitless, Save that tongues of after men, the children of her peace, Took the tale up of her glories, transient else and rootless, And in ears and hearts of all men left the praise of Greece. Fair the war-time was when still, as beacon answering beacon, Sea to land flashed fight, and thundered note of wrath or cheer; But the strength of noonday night hath power to waste and weaken, Nor may light be passed from hand to hand of year to year If the dying deed be saved not, ere it die for ever, By the hands and lips of men more wise than years are strong; If the soul of man take heed not that the deed die never, Clothed about with purple and gold of story, crowned with song. Still the burning heart of boy and man alike rejoices, Hearing words which made it seem of old for all who sang That their heaven of heavens waxed happier when from free men's voices _Well-beloved Harmodius and Aristogeiton_ rang. Never fell such fragrance from the flower-month's rose-red kirtle As from chaplets on the bright friends' brows who slew their lord: Greener grew the leaf and balmier blew the flower of myrtle When its blossom sheathed the sheer tyrannicidal sword. None so glorious garland crowned the feast Panathenaean As this wreath too frail to fetter fast the Cyprian dove: None so fiery song sprang sunwards annual as the paean Praising perfect love of friends and perfect country's love.