730

Though thrice his might were mustered for our scathe

And thicker set with fence of thorn-edged spears

Than sands are whirled about the wintering beach

[Pg 42]

When storms have swoln the rivers, and their blasts

Have breached the broad sea-banks with stress of sea,

That waves of inland and the main make war

As men that mix and grapple; though his ranks

Were more to number than all wildwood leaves

The wind waves on the hills of all the world,

Yet should the heart not faint, the head not fall,

740

The breath not fail of Athens. Say, the Gods

From lips that have no more on earth to say

Have told thee this the last good news or ill

That I shall speak in sight of earth and sun

Or he shall hear and see them: for the next

That ear of his from tongue of mine may take

Must be the first word spoken underground

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