Obeyed  the  Spartan  laws — and  here  we  lie ! "  *
Sleep  soft  I — the  fresher  from  your  blood  shall  grow
The  fruitful  olive! — Wealth,  and  peace,  and  art»
Seeds  from  the  dust  of  patriot  martyrs.     Lo,
How  lusty  Commerce  gathers  to  the  Mart  1
Blue  Neptune  beckons  from  the  reedy  shore ;
Leaps  on  its  prey  the  axe — (the  nymph  is  gone  1) —
Loud  from  the  hill-top  thunders  down  the  oak—
Wing*d  by  the  lever,  soars  the  quickening  stone
From  its  cold  bed — the  miner  wrings  the  ore
From  the  dusk  shaft — and  the  huge  hammer's  stroke
Times,  through  the  fiery  spray,  its  measured  roar ;
The  bright  web  round  the  dancing  spindle  gleams  ;
Blithe  bears  the  pilot-guarded  mariner.
Or  to  far  lands  toe  industry  of  home.
Or  homeward  all  the  riches  from  afar<—
High  from  his  mast  the  garland-banner  streaming :
Life  swarms  through  mart,  and  quay,  and  tower,  and  dome—*
And  many  a  language,  the  broad  streets  within.
