ATHENS REPLIES:—
Shot-dinted, but defiant of decay,
Stand my gaunt columns in a tragic line,
The shattered relics of a glorious day,
Mute guardians of the lost Athena's shrine.
The flame of hope, that faded to despair
Ere Hellas burst her chains, is imaged there.
Yet one there was who came to her for gain,
Ere yet the years of her despair were run;
And with harsh zeal defaced the ruined fane
Full in the blazing light of Hellas' sun.
Spoiling my home with sacrilegious hand,
He bore his captives to a foreign land.
Ilissus mourns his tutelary god,
Theseus in some far city doth recline:
Lost is the Horse of Night that erstwhile trod
My hall; the god-like shapes that once were mine
Call to me, "Mother save us ere we die,
Far from thy arms beneath a sunless sky."
How shall I answer? for my arms are fain
To clasp them fast upon the rock-bound steep,
Their ancient home. Shall Athens yearn in vain,
And all in vain must woful Hellas weep?
Must the indignant shade of PHIDIAS mourn
For his dear city, free but how forlorn?
How shall I answer? Nay, I turn to thee,
England, and pray thee, from thy northern throne
Step down and hearken, give them back to me,
O generous sister, give me back mine own.
Thy jewelled forehead needs no alien gem
Torn from a hapless sister's diadem.
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