Читать книгу Childe Harold's Pilgrimage (With Byron's Biography) - Lord Byron - Страница 166

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 behovedec To guard those relics ne'er to be restored:— Curst be the hour when from their isle they roved, And once again thy hapless bosom gored, And snatched thy shrinking Gods to Northern climes abhorred!123