Even then, ere loath their hands could part, That, soon as the fierce fight was o'er, Might be the last he'd breathe at home. "By day," he cried, "thou'lt know my bark, "But, should I come through midnight dark, "A blue light on the prow shall tell "That GREECE hath won, and all is well!” Fondly the maiden, every night, Had stolen to seek that promised light, Fleetly the boat now nears the land, While voices, from the shore-edge, call For tidings of the long-wish'd band. Oh the blest hour, when those who 've been Through peril's paths by land or sea, Lock'd in our arms again are seen Smiling in glad security When heart to heart we fondly strain, Such is the scene, so full of joy, With beaming faces, at that board, Coming, as he, their herald, told, With blades from victory scarce yet cold, And wounds that home's sweet breath will heal. "Ere morn" said he, and, while he spoke, On yonder wave we'll greet their sail!" To wait them here, beneath this bower; 'TIS THE VINE! I. "TIs the Vine! 'tis the Vine!" said the cup-loving boy, As he saw it spring bright from the earth, And call'd the young Genii of WIT, LOVE and Joy, The fruit was full grown, like a ruby it flam'd Till the sun-beam that kiss'd it turn'd pale: "Tis the Vine! 'tis the Vine!" ev'ry Spirit exclaim'd, "Hail, hail to the Wine-tree, all hail!" II. First, fleet as a bird, to the summons WIT flew, In flashes so quick and so brilliant, all knew "Bright tree! let thy nectar but cheer me," he cried, "And the fount of Wit never can fail;' "Tis the Vine! 'tis the Vine!" hills and valleys reply, “Hail, hail to the Wine-tree, all hail!” III. Next, LovE, as he lean'd o'er the plant to admire From his rosy mouth sent such a breath of desire, As made the tree tremble all o'er, Oh! never did flower of the earth, sea, or sky, Such a soul-giving odour inhale: "Tis the Vine! 'tis the Vine!" all re-echo the cry, "Hail, hail to the Wine-tree, all hail!" IV. Last, Joy, without whom even Love and WIT die, "Tis the Vine! 'tis the Vine!" laughing myriads resound, "Hail, hail to the Wine-tree, all hail!" PRINTED BY J. B. HIRSCHFELD. |