POEMS OF GREECE
CRETE
Though Arkádi's shattered pile
Hides her dead without a dirge,
Lo! where still the mountain isle
Fronts the angry Moslem surge!
Hers, in old, heroic days,
Her unfettered heights afar
'Twixt the Grecian Gulf to raise,
And the torrid Libyan star.
From her bulwarks to the North
Stretched the glad Ægaean Sea,
Sending bards and warriors forth
To the triumphs of the free;
Ill the fierce invader throve,
When, from island or from main,
Side by side the Grecians strove:
Swift he sought his lair again!
Though the Cretan eagle fell,
And the ancient height were won,
Freedom's light was guarded well,—
Handed down from sire to son;
Through the centuries of shame,
Ah! it never wholly died,
But was hid, a sacred flame,
There on topmost Ida's side.
Shades of heroes Homer sung—
Wearing once her hundred crowns—
Rise with shadowy swords among
Candia's smoking fields and towns;
Not again their souls shall sleep,
Nor the crescent wane in peace,
Till from every island-keep
Shines the starry Cross of Greece.
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