XV.

Not mindless of these mighty times 390 Was Alp, despite his flight and crimes; And through this night, as on he wandered,[pc] And o'er the past and present pondered, And thought upon the glorious dead Who there in better cause had bled, He felt how faint and feebly dim[pd] The fame that could accrue to him, Who cheered the band, and waved the sword,[pe] A traitor in a turbaned horde; And led them to the lawless siege, 400 Whose best success were sacrilege. Not so had those his fancy numbered,[353] The chiefs whose dust around him slumbered; Their phalanx marshalled on the plain, Whose bulwarks were not then in vain. They fell devoted, but undying; The very gale their names seemed sighing; The waters murmured of their name; The woods were peopled with their fame; The silent pillar, lone and grey, 410 Claimed kindred with their sacred clay; Their spirits wrapped the dusky mountain, Their memory sparkled o'er the fountain;[pf] The meanest rill, the mightiest river Rolled mingling with their fame for ever. Despite of every yoke she bears, That land is Glory's still and theirs![pg] 'Tis still a watch-word to the earth: When man would do a deed of worth He points to Greece, and turns to tread, 420 So sanctioned, on the tyrant's head: He looks to her, and rushes on Where life is lost, or Freedom won.[ph]