CIIILDE'HAROLD'S

P I L G R I M A G E*

A ROMAUNT.

CANTO II.

I.

Come, blue-eyed maid of heaven,—butthou,alas!

If’ Didst never yet one mortal song inspire —Goddess of Wisdom ! here thy temple was.And is, despite of war and wasting fire, 1And years, that bade thy worship to expire:But worse than steel, and flame, and ages slow,Is the dread sceptre and dominion direOf men who never felt the sacred glowThat thoughts of thee and thine on polish’dbreasts bestow. 2