O, ye Athenians, drunken with self-praise,
What dreams I had of you, beside the sea,
In far Miletus! while the golden days
Slid into silver nights, so sweet to me;
For then I dreamed my day-dreams sweetly o'er,
Fancying the touch of Pallas on my brow—
Libations of both heart and wine did pour,
And offered up my being with my vow.