Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt, Del 2 |
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Side 21
Cold is the heart , fair Greece ! that looks on thee , Nor feels as lovers o'er the
dust they loved ; Dull is the eye that will not weep to see Thy walls defaced , thy
mouldering shrines removed By British hands , which it had best behoved To
guard ...
Cold is the heart , fair Greece ! that looks on thee , Nor feels as lovers o'er the
dust they loved ; Dull is the eye that will not weep to see Thy walls defaced , thy
mouldering shrines removed By British hands , which it had best behoved To
guard ...
Side 61
... Sadness , not by Fiction , ledClimes , fair withal as ever mortal head Imagined
in its little schemes of thought ; Or e'er in new Utopias were ared , To teach man
what he might be , or he ought ; If that corrupted thing could ever such be taught .
... Sadness , not by Fiction , ledClimes , fair withal as ever mortal head Imagined
in its little schemes of thought ; Or e'er in new Utopias were ared , To teach man
what he might be , or he ought ; If that corrupted thing could ever such be taught .
Side
... but Nature still is fair . LXXXVIII . Where'er we tread ' tis haunted , holy ground ;
No earth of thine is lost in vulgar mould , But one vast realm of wonder spreads
around , And all the Muse's tales seem truly told , Till the sense aches with gazing
...
... but Nature still is fair . LXXXVIII . Where'er we tread ' tis haunted , holy ground ;
No earth of thine is lost in vulgar mould , But one vast realm of wonder spreads
around , And all the Muse's tales seem truly told , Till the sense aches with gazing
...
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