Mourn, olive bowers of Attica! and Thou, Partake the sadness of the groves, Famed hill Hymettus, round whose fragrant brow, Industrious bees, each seeking what she loves, Or fraught with treasure which she best approves, Their murmurs blend { in choral elevation } { with choral animation } Not wholly lost upon the abstracted ear Of unambitious men who wander near Immersed in lonely contemplation. Mourn, sunny Hill, and shady Grove! and mourn Ilyssus, bending o'er thy classic urn! Lament the fall of him whose spirit dreads Your once sweet memory, studious walks and shades! For He, who to divinity aspired, Not on the wings of popular applause, But through dependence on the sacred laws Framed in the schools where Wisdom dwelt retired, Meek Wisdom tracing with a steady hand The path which she alone hath scann'd-- The ideal path of right-- More fair than heaven's broad causeway paved with stars, Which Dion learned to gaze on with delight;-- But he hath overleap'd the eternal bars, And following guides whose craft holds no consent With aught that breathes the ethereal element, Hath stained the robes of civil power with blood, Unjustly shed, though for the public good. Blind choice--for since that day, the chief, the sage, Prime boast and envy of a glorious age, Droops, the slave of fear and sorrow; For since that hour the studious walks and shades, Whose once sweet memory her Spirit dreads, Depress'd to-day, and unrelieved to-morrow, Hath Dion pined with sharp regret and sorrow. Lament, ye studious walks and shades, The fall of Him whose spirit dreads Your once sweet memory--and mourn Ilyssus, bending o'er thy classic urn, For him who ... Mourn, { sunny hills and groves } of Attica! and mourn { olive bowers } Ilyssus, bending o'er thy classic urn! Mourn, and lament for him whose spirit dreads Your once sweet memory, studious walks and shades, For him who ... ... where Wisdom dwelt retired { Tracing with steady hand the path of right } { Intent to trace the ideal path of right } ... where Wisdom dwelt retired Tracing assiduously the path of right. That path which Dion travelled { in } delight. {with} Which Dion learned to travel with delight. Ever since that hour, ye studious walks and shades, Whose once sweet Memory now his spirit dreads, Hath Dion pined with sharp regret and sorrow. Blind choice--for since that word was given, the Sage, Prime boast and envy of a glorious age, {Hath droop'd and pined with sharp regret and sorrow,} {Droops with a burthen of repentant sorrow, } Depress'd to-day, and unrelieved to-morrow.