Читать книгу Childe Harold's Pilgrimage (With Byron's Biography) - Lord Byron - Страница 71

But all unconscious of the coming doom,70 The feast, the song, the revel here abounds; Strange modes of merriment the hours consume, Nor bleed these patriots with their country's wounds: Nor here War's clarion, but Love's rebeck71 sounds;cl Here Folly still his votaries inthralls; And young-eyed Lewdness walks her midnight rounds:cm Girt with the silent crimes of Capitals, Still to the last kind Vice clings to the tott'ring walls.