Page:The Forest Sanctuary.pdf/171

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LAYS OF MANY LANDS.
165


When banners caught the breeze,
When helms in sunlight shone,
When masts were on the seas,
And spears on Marathon.


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 pass'd!

When banners caught the breeze,
When helms in sunlight shone,
When masts were on the seas,
And spears on Marathon.

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