Old Greece lightens up with emotion Her inlands, her isles of the ocean: Fanes rebuilt, and fair towns, shall with jubilee sing, And the Nine shall new-hallow their Helicon's spring. Our hearths shall be kindled with gladness, That were cold, and extinguished in sadness; Whilst our maidens shall dance with their white waving arms, Singing joy to the brave that delivered their charms,-- When the blood of you Mussulman cravens Shall have crimsoned the beaks of our ravens. T. Campbell. CCXVII. THE FLIGHT OF XERXES. I saw him on the battle-eve When like a king he bore him; Proud hosts in glittering helm and greave, And prouder chiefs, before him. The warrior and the warrior's deeds, The morrow and the morrow's meeds,-- No daunting thought came o'er him; He looked around him, and his eye Defiance flashed to earth and sky. He looked on ocean,--its broad breast Was covered with his fleet: On earth,--and saw from east to west His bannered millions meet; While rock, and glen, and cave, and coast, Shook with the war-cry of that host, The thunder of their feet! He heard the imperial echoes ring,-- He heard, and felt himself a king. I saw him next alone;--nor camp Nor chief his steps attended; Nor banner blazed, nor courser's tramp With war-cries proudly blended. He stood alone, whom Fortune high So lately seemed to deify, He, who with Heaven contended, Fled like a fugitive and slave!-- Behind, the foe; before, the wave! He stood--fleet, army, treasure, gone-- Alone, and in despair! But wave and wind swept ruthless on, For they were monarchs there; And Xerxes, in a single bark, Where late his thousand ships were dark Must all their fury dare. What a revenge, a trophy, this, For thee, immortal Salamis! Miss Jewsbury. CCXVIII. OLD IRONSIDES.