Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/408

366 Whose steps have pressed, whose eye has marked afar,

The clime that nursed the sons of song and war,

The scenes which Glory still must hover o'er,

Her place of birth, her own Achaian shore.

But doubly blest is he whose heart expands

With hallowed feelings for those classic lands;

Who rends the veil of ages long gone by,

And views their remnants with a poet's eye!

! 'twas thy happy lot at once to view

Those shores of glory, and to sing them too;

And sure no common Muse inspired thy pen

To hail the land of Gods and Godlike men.

And you, associate Bards! who snatched to light

Those gems too long withheld from modern sight;