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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=530026" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Ghost of Miltiades</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Ghost of Miltiades came at night,<br>And he stood by the bed of the Benthamite,<br>And he said, in a voice, that thrill'd the frame,<br>&quot;If ever the sound of Marathon's name<br>Hath fir'd they blood or flush'd thy brow,<br>Lover of Liberty, rise thee now!&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>The Benthamite, yawning, left his bed --<br>Away to the Stock Exchange he sped,<br>And he found the Scrip of Greece so high, <br>That it fir'd his blood, it flush'd his eye,<br>And oh, 'twas a sight to see,<br>For never was Greek more Greek than he!<br>And still as the premium higher went, <br>His ecstas rose - so much per cent., <br>(As we see in a glass, that tells the weather,<br>The heat and the silver rise together,)<br>And Liberty sung from the patriot's lip,<br>While a voice from pocket whisper'd &quot;Scrip!&quot;<br>The Ghost of Miltiades came again; --<br>He smil'd as the pale moon smiles through rain,<br>For his soul was glad at the patriot strain;<br>(And poor, dear ghost -- how little he knew<br>The jobs and the tricks of the Philhellene crew!)<br>&quot;Blessings and thanks!&quot; was all he said,<br>Then, melting away, like a night-dream, fled!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>The Benthamite hears -- amaz'd that ghosts<br>Could be such fools -- and away he posts,<br>A patriot still? Ah no, ah no --<br>Goddess of Freedom, thy scrip is low,<br>And, warm and fond as they lovers are,<br>Thou triest their passion, when under par.<br>The Benthamite's ardour fast decays,<br>By turns he weeps, and swears, and prays,<br>And wishes the d--l had Crescent and Cross,<br>Ere he had been forc'd to sell at a loss.<br>They quote thim the Stock of various nations,<br>But, spite of his classical associations,<br>Lord how he loathes the Greek quotations!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>&quot;Who'll buy my Scrip! Who'll buy my Scrip?&quot;<br>Is now the theme of the patriot's lip,<br>And he runs to tell how hard his lot is<br>To Messrs. Orlando and Luriottis,<br>And says, &quot;Oh Greece, for Liberty's sake,<br>Do buy my Scrip and I vow to break<br>Those dark, unholy bonds of thine --<br>If you'll only consent to buy up mine!&quot;<br>The Ghost of Miltiades came once more; --<br>His brow, like the night, was lowering o'er,<br>And he said, with a look that flash'd dismay,<br>&quot;Of Liberty's foes the worst are they<br>Who turn to a trade her cause divine,<br>And gamble for gold on Freedom's shrine!&quot;<br>Thus saying, the Ghost, as he took his flight,<br>Gave a Parthian kick to the Benthamite,<br>Which sent him, whimpering, off to Jerry --<br>And vanish'd away to the Stygian ferry!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Thomas+Moore">Thomas Moore</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=530026" data-title="The Ghost of Miltiades de Thomas Moore" data-description="The Ghost of Miltiades came at night,
And he stood by the bed of the Benthamite,
And he said, in a voice, that thrill'd the frame,
&quot;If ever the sound of Marathon's name
Hath fir'd they blood or flush'd thy brow,
Lover of Liberty, rise thee no..."></div>
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