Hymn To Aristogeiton And Harmodius
I Wreathed in myrtle, my sword Ill conceal, Like those champions devoted and brave, When they plunged in the tyrant their steel, And to Athens deliverance gave. II Beloved heroes! your deathless souls roam In the joy breathing isles of the blest; Where the mighty of old have their home, Where Achilles and Diomed rest. III In fresh myrtle my blade Ill entwine, Like Harmodius, the gallant and good, When he made at the tutelar shrine A libation of Tyrannys blood. IV Ye deliverers of Athens from shame! Ye avengers of Libertys wrongs! Endless ages shall cherish your fame, Embalmed in their echoing songs!
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