Читать книгу Childe Harold's Pilgrimage (With Byron's Biography) - Lord Byron - Страница 86

Oft have I dreamed of Thee! whose glorious name

Who knows not, knows not man's divinest lore:

And now I view thee—'tis, alas, with shame

That I in feeblest accents must adore.

When I recount thy worshippers of yore

I tremble, and can only bend the knee;

Nor raise my voice, nor vainly dare to soar,

But gaze beneath thy cloudy canopy

In silent joy to think at last I look on Thee!80