Greece.—A Sonnet.

Land of the muses, and of mighty men !1
A shadowy grandeur mantles thee ; serene2
As morning skies, thy pictur’d realms are seen,3
When ether’s canopy is clear, and when4
The very zephyrs pause upon the wing5
In ecstasy, and wist not where to stray.—6
Beautiful Greece ! more glorious in decay7
Than other regions in the flush of spring :8
Thy palaces are tenantless ; —the Turk9
Hath quenched the embers of the holy fane ;10
Thy temples now are crumbling to the plain,11
For time hath sapped, and man hath helped the work.12
All cannot perish—thy immortal mind13
Remains a halo circling round mankind.14