Woods that wave o’er Delphi’s steep,
Isles that crown the Ægean deep,
Fields that cool Ilissus laves,
Or where Mæander’s amber waves
In lingering labyrinths creep, 70
How do your tuneful echoes languish,
Mute, but to the voice of anguish?
Where each old poetic mountain
Inspiration breathed around;
Every shade and hallowed fountain 75