Greece: a whole world

THE ISLES of Greece The isles of Greece! the isles of Greece
Where burning Sappho loved and sung,
Where grew the arts of war and peace,
Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung!
Eternal summer gilds them yet,	5
But all, except their sun, is set. The Scian and the Teian muse,     The hero's harp, the lover's lute,   Have found the fame your shores refuse:     Their place of birth alone is mute   10 To sounds which echo further west   Than your sires' 'Islands of the Blest.     The mountains look on Marathon—     And Marathon looks on the sea;   And musing there an hour alone,   15   I dream'd that Greece might still be free;   For standing on the Persians' grave,   I could not deem myself a slave.     A king sate on the rocky brow     Which looks o'er sea-born Salamis;   20 And ships, by thousands, lay below,     And men in nations;—all were his!   He counted them at break of day—   And when the sun set, where were they?

THE ISLES of Greece

The isles of Greece! the isles of Greece

 

  Where burning Sappho loved and sung,

 

Where grew the arts of war and peace,

 

  Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung!

 

Eternal summer gilds them yet,

         5

But all, except their sun, is set.

The Scian and the Teian muse,
The hero's harp, the lover's lute,
Have found the fame your shores refuse:
Their place of birth alone is mute	10
To sounds which echo further west
Than your sires' 'Islands of the Blest.
The mountains look on Marathon—
And Marathon looks on the sea;
And musing there an hour alone,	15
I dream'd that Greece might still be free;
For standing on the Persians' grave,
I could not deem myself a slave.
A king sate on the rocky brow
Which looks o'er sea-born Salamis;	20
And ships, by thousands, lay below,
And men in nations;—all were his!
He counted them at break of day—
And when the sun set, where were they?

The Scian and the Teian muse,

 

  The hero's harp, the lover's lute,

 

Have found the fame your shores refuse:

 

  Their place of birth alone is mute

  10

To sounds which echo further west

 

Than your sires' 'Islands of the Blest.

 

 

The mountains look on Marathon—

 

  And Marathon looks on the sea;

 

And musing there an hour alone,

  15

  I dream'd that Greece might still be free;

 

For standing on the Persians' grave,

 

I could not deem myself a slave.

 

 

A king sate on the rocky brow

 

  Which looks o'er sea-born Salamis;

  20

And ships, by thousands, lay below,

 

  And men in nations;—all were his!

 

He counted them at break of day—

 

And when the sun set, where were they?

 

 

George Gordon Byron, Lord Byron. 1788–1824 AMAZONES HOTELS CRETE http://www.amazoneshotels.com email: amazones@hol.gr Let's wave this summer together Amazones Village Suites - Amazones Villas Apartments - Amazones Villa Sun