Historical: HELPS TO STUDY The decline of Greece is the theme of this poem. Byron represents a Greek poet as contrasting ancient and modern Greece, showing that, in modern Greece, "all except their sun is set.'' MARCO BOZZARIS FITZ-GREENE HALLECK Ar midnight, in his guarded tent, In dreams, through camp and court he bore In dreams, his song of triumph heard; At midnight, in the forest shades, There had the Persian's thousands stood, And now there breathed that haunted air, An hour passed on-the Turk awoke; And death-shots falling thick and fast "Strike!-till the last armed foe expires; They fought-like brave men, long and well; Bleeding at every vein. His few surviving comrades saw His smile, when rang their proud—“hurrah,” And the red field was won: Then saw in death his eyelids close, Calmly, as to a night's repose, Like flowers at set of sun. 50 55 But to the hero, when his sword Has won the battle for the free, The thanks of millions yet to be. We tell thy doom without a sigh; For thou art Freedom's now, and Fame's- That were not born to die. HELPS TO STUDY Biographical and Historical: Fitz-Greene Halleck was born in Connecticut, July 8, 1790, and died November 19, 1867. Of his poems, "Marco Bozzaris" is probably the best known. Marco Bozzaris, leader of the Greek revolution, was killed August 20, 1823, in an attack upon the Turks near Missolonghi, a Greek town. His last words were: die for liberty is a pleasure, not a pain." To 10 THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE CHARLES WOLFE Nor a drum was heard, not a funeral note, 5 We buried him darkly at dead of night, No useless coffin inclosed his breast, Nor in sheet nor in shroud we wound him; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him. Few and short were the prayers we said, 20 We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, 25 But half of our heavy task was done When the clock struck the hour for retiring; And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing. |