The blade I bear A myrtle spray shall wear; Harmodius and Aristogeiton so Enwreathed the brand That laid the tyrant low And liberated our Athenian land. Not dead thou art, Harmodius, dear heart, But gone, men say, to islands of the blest, -- For all his speed Achilles there finds rest, And Tydeus' child, the gallant Diomede. The blade I bear A myrtle spray shall wear; Harmodius and Aristogeiton drest The brand even so, When at Athena's feast They laid Hipparchus, that great tyrant, low. Dear hearts, your worth Has deathless fame on earth, -- Harmodius and Aristogeiton, ye Who blade in hand Dealt death to tyranny And liberated our Athenian land. |