His dust yet quick with love of country. Yes,
A god speaks to us from this sacred peace,
That nursed for Persians upon Marathon,
Where Athens gave her heroes sepulture,
Greek ire and virtue. There the mariner
That sailed the sea under Euboea saw
Flashing amidst the wide obscurity
The steel of helmets and of clashing brands,
The smoke and lurid flame of funeral pyres,
And phantom warriors, clad in glittering mail,
Seeking the combat. Through the silences
And horror of the night, along the field,
The tumult of the phalanxes arose,
Mixing itself with sound of warlike tubes,
And clatter of the hoofs of steeds, that rushed
Trampling the helms of dying warriors,--
And sobs, and hymns, and the wild Parcae's songs![9]


Notes:

[1] Question of Machiavelli. Whether "The Prince" was
written in earnest, with a wish to serve the Devil, or in irony,
with a wish to serve the people, is still in dispute.

[2] Michelangelo.

[3] Galileo.

[4] Newton.