 | Poems by William Stanley Roscoe |  |
49
Εν μυρτου κλαδι το ξιφος φορησω.
Green are the myrtle leaves that glowOn Beauty's fair and polish'd brow;
But greener are the leaves that shine,
And round the dirk of Freedom twine!
Those have flourish'd by the fount,
On Cythera's golden mount;
These have drunk a richer flood
From the perjur'd tyrant's blood:
These, by elder Greece ador'd,
I gird around my thirsty sword,
That flashes at the purple vest,
And slumbers in the traitor's breast.
| Poems by William Stanley Roscoe | |