Chime with the Ilian chant of the “crest-waving Hector,” and “Ares the sacker of cities.”
Absorbed in the charm of the harmony and the soft Grecian rhythm, they stand intent and heed not the passage of time until a silvery light recalls their attention to the rear, and there, beyond the bright track of the moonbeams, appear the low shores and forests of India, dim in the distance, fast sinking beneath the horizon.
“——————————Behold
Where on the Ægean shore a city stands,
Built nobly, pure the air, and light the soil;
Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts
And eloquence————
See there the olive grove of Academe,
Plato’s retirement, where the Attic bird