Where the streams are gently laving.


An hour passed on;--the Turk awoke;--
That bright dream was his last;--
He woke--to hear his sentry's shriek,
(oo) "To ARMS! they come! (_ff_.) THE GREEK! THE GREEK!"
(_pl_.) He woke to die, midst flame and smoke,
And shout, and groan, and sabre stroke,
And death shots falling thick and fast
As lightnings from the mountain cloud;
And heard, with voice as trumpet loud,
Bozzaris cheer his band;--
(oo) "_Strike_--till the last armed foe expires!
_Strike_--for your altars and your fires!
_Strike_--for the green graves of your sires!
God, and your native land!" HALLECK.


He said, and on the rampart hights arrayed
His trusty warriors, few, but undismayed;
(_sl_) Firm paced and slow, a horrid front they form,
(_pp_) Still as the breeze, ([oo]) but dreadful as the storm!
(_p_.) Low, murmuring sounds along their banners fly,
(_ff_.) REVENGE, or DEATH!--the watchword and reply;
(oo) Then pealed the notes, omnipotent to charm,
(_f_.) And the loud tocsin tolled their last alarm! CAMPBELL.


([o]') His speech was at first low toned and slow. Sometimes