CIII.

_Thou_ wert not made for bonds, nor shame, nor fear! --Do the hoar oaks and dark-green laurels wave O’er Mantinea’s earth?--doth Pindus rear His snows, the sunbeam and the storm to brave? And is there yet on Marathon a grave? And doth Eurotas lead his silvery line By Sparta’s ruins? And shall man, a slave, Bow’d to the dust, amid such scenes repine? --If e’er a soil was mark’d for freedom’s step, ’tis thine!