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childe iiarold’s

Canto II.

X.

Here let me sit upon this massy stone,

The marble column’s yet unshaken base;

Here, son of Saturn! was thy fav’rite throne: 4Mightiest of many such! Hence let me traceThe latent grandeur of thy dwelling place.

It may not be: nor ev’n can Fancy’s eyeRestore what Time hath laboured to deface.

Yet these proud pillars claim no passing sigh,Unmoved the Moslem sits, the light Greek ca-rols by.

XI.

But who, of all the plunderers of yon faneOn high, where Pallas lingered, loth to fleeThe latest relic of her ancient x'cign;

The last, the worst, dull spoiler, who was he?Blush, Caledonia! such thy son could be!Kngland! I joy no child he was of thine :

Thy free-born men should spare what once wasfree;

Yet they could violate each saddening shrine,

And bear these altars o’er the long-reluctantbrine. 5