And his steps fell hushed like snows--
'Twas the shade of Theseus passed!

Far sweeping through the foe
With a fiery charge he bore;
And the Mede left many a bow
On the sounding ocean-shore.
And the foaming waves grew red,
And the sails were crowded fast,
When the sons of Asia fled,
As the shade of Theseus passed!
When banners caught the breeze,
When helms in sunlight shone,
When masts were on the seas,
And spears on Marathon.

It is said that to this day the peasant believes the field of
Marathon to be haunted with spectral warriors, whose shouts are
heard at midnight, borne on the wind, and rising above the din
of battle. Viewed in the light of such legends, the following
poem on Marathon, by PROFESSOR BLACKIE, is full of interest and
poetic beauty:

From Pentel'icus' pine-clad height
[Footnote: Pentelicus overhangs the south side of the plain of
Marathon.]
A voice of warning came,
That shook the silent autumn night
With fear to Media's name.
[Footnote: After the absorption of the Median kingdom into that