tight pantaloons, boots, and straps, seemed to repress the free *energies of the mountain warrior; and I could not but think how awkward it must be, for one who had spent his whole life in a dress which hardly touched him, at fifty, to put on a stock, and straps to his boots. Our guide introduced us, with an apology for our intrusion. The colonel received us with great kindness, thanked us for the honor done his brother's widow, and requested us to be seated, ordering coffee and pipes. 7. And here, on the very first day of our arrival in Greece, and from a source which made us proud, we had the first evidence of what afterward met me at every step, the warm feeling existing in Greece toward America; for almost the first thing that the brother of Marco Bozzaris said, was to express his gratitude as a Greek, for the services rendered his country by our own; and after referring to the provisions sent out for his famishing countrymen, his eye sparkled and his cheek flushed, as he told us, that when the Greek revolutionary flag first sailed into the port of Napoli di Romania, among hundreds of vessels of all nations, an American captain was the first to recognize and salute it. 8. In a few moments, the widow of Marco Bozzaris entered. I have often been disappointed in my +preconceived notions of personal appearance, but it was not so with the lady who now stood before me. She looked the widow of a hero; as one worthy of those Grecian mothers, who gave their hair for bow-strongs, and their girdles for sword-belts, and while their heart-strings were cracking, sent their young lovers from their arms, to fight and perish for their country. Perhaps it was she that led Marco Bozzaris into the path of timmortality, that roused him from the wild guerilla warfare in which he had passed his early life, and fired him with the high and holy ambition of freeing his country. Of one thing I am certain, no man could look her in the face, without finding his wavering purposes fixed, without treading more firmly in the path of high and honorable enterprise. She was under forty, tall and stately in person, and habited in deep black, fit emblem of her widowed condition. We all rose as she entered the room; and, though living *secluded, and seldom seeing the face of a stranger, she received our compliments and returned them with far less embarrassment, than we both felt and exhibited. 9. But our embarrassment-at least, I speak for myselfwas induced by an unexpected circumstance. Much as I was interested in her appearance, I was not insensible to the fact, that she was accompanied by two young and beautiful girls, who were introduced to us as her daughters. This somewhat bewildered me; for, while waiting for their appearance, and talking with Constantine Bozzaris, I had, in some way, conceived the idea that the daughters were mere children, and had fully made up my mind to take them both on my knee and kiss them; but the appearance of the stately mother recalled me to the grave of Bozzaris; and the daughters would probably have thought that I was taking liberties, upon so short an acquaintance, if I had followed up my benevolent purpose in regard to them; so, with the long pipe in my hand, which at that time, I did not know how to manage well, I can not flatter myself that I exhibited any of the advantages of continental travel. 10. The elder was about sixteen, and even in the opinion of my friend, Dr. W., a cool judge in these matters, a beautiful girl, possessing all the elements of Grecian beauty; a dark, clear complexion; dark hair, set off by a little red cap, embroidered with gold thread, and a long blue tassel hanging down behind; and large black eyes expressing a melancholy quiet, but which might be excited to shoot forth glances of fire more terrible than her father's sword. Happily too, for us, she talked French, having learned it from a French marquis, who had served in Greece, and been domesticated with them; but young, and modest, and unused to the company of strangers, she felt the embarrassment common to young ladies, when attempting to speak a foreign language. And we could not talk to her on common themes. Our lips were sealed, of course, upon the subject which had brought us to her house. We could not sound for her the praises of her gallant father. 11. At parting, however, I told them that the name of Marco Bozzaris was as familiar in America, as that of a hero of our own revolution; and that it had been hallowed by the +inspiration of an American poet; and I added, that if it would not be unacceptable, on my return to my native country, I would send the tribute referred to, as an evidence of the feeling existing in America toward the memory of Marco Bozzaris. My offer was gratefully accepted; and afterward, while in the act of mounting my horse to leave Missolonghi, our guide, who had remained behind, came to me with a message from the widow and her daughters, reminding me of my promise. 12. I make no apology for introducing to the public, the widow and daughters of Marco Bozzaris. True, I was received by them in private, without any expectation, either on their part or mine, that all the particulars of the interview would be noted and laid before the eyes of all who choose to read. I hope it will not be considered +invading the *sanctity of private life; but, at all events, I make no apology; the widow and children of Marco Bozzaris are the property of the world. CXXIII. - MARCO BOZZARIS. FROM HALLECK. 1. Ar midnight, in his guarded tent, The Turk lay dreaming of the hour, In dreams, through camp and court, he bore In dreams, his song of triumph heard; 2. At midnight, in the forest shades, Heroes in heart and hand. There, had the Persian's thousands stood; And now, there breath'd that haunted air, 3. An hour pass'd on; the Turk awoke; That bright dream was his last: He woke to hear his tsentries shriek "To arms! they come! the Greek! the Greek!" "Strike! till the last arm'd foe expires; 4. They fought like brave men, long and well; They pil'd the ground with Moslem slain; They conquer'd, but Bozzaris fell, Bleeding at every vein. His few surviving +comrades saw They saw in death his eyelids close, Like flowers at set of sun. 5. Come to the bridal-chamber, Death; The groan, the +knell, the pall, the bier, Of agony, are thine. But to the hero, when his sword Has won the battle for the free, Thy voice sounds like a prophet's word, The thanks of millions yet to be. 6. Bozzaris! with the storied brave, Greece nurtur'd in her glory's prime, We tell thy doom without a sigh, GEORGE GORDON BYRON, one of the most distinguished of English poets, was born in London, in 1788. His poems are numerous, and display astonishing skill in versification, a wonderful perception of the sublime and beautiful, and an intellectual power, perhaps never surpassed. Unfortunately, however, his great genius was exerted too much against all that is good, if not in favor of all that is evil. He embarked in the cause of the Greek revolution, and died at Missolonghi, in 1824. A modern Greek is here supposed to compare the present +degeneracy of his country with its ancient glory, and to utter his lamentations in the words of the song. The KING referred to in the 4th stanza is Xerxes, king of Persia. 1. THE Isles of Greece, the Isles of Greece! 2. The Scian and Teian muse, The hero's heart, the lover's lute, 3. The mountains look on +Marathon, And musing there an hour alone, I dream'd that Greece might still be free ; |