At midnight, in his guarded tent,
The Turk was dreaming of the hour
When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent,
Should tremble at his power:
In dreams, through camp and court, he bore
The trophies of a conqueror;
In dreams his song of triumph...
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Green be the turf above thee, Tears fell when thou wert dying, |
Home of the Percys’ high-born race, |
Wild rose of Alloway! my thanks; Like thine, beneath the thorn-tree’s bough, |
Cooper, whose name is with his country’s woven, And throned her in the senate-hall of nations, |
From “Fanny” |
Died in New York, September, 1820 GREEN be the turf above thee, Tears fell, when thou wert dying, |
From “Fanny” |
[At Laspi—Ancient Platæa—August 20, 1823] AT midnight, in his guarded tent, |
Home of the Percys’ high-born race, |