Vii[14]

Rumele is a royal crown of ruby; Moreas is a glow of emerald; The Seven Isles, a jasmine sevenfold; And every Cyclad, a Nereid sea-born.

Even the chains of rugged Epirus laugh; And Thessaly spreads far her golden charms. Hidden beneath her present waves of woe, Methinks I look on Hellas, Queen of lands.

For still the ancient fir of valor blooms; And from the pangs and sighs of ages risen, The breath of Digenes fills all the land

Breeding a race of heroes strong and new; And in the depths of green and golden Night Sings on Colonus Hill the nightingale.