Round Grecian isles its cincture folds,
Where on Sunium falls the light,
And carves anew the columns white;
Where the gulf of Nauplia fills
The sculptured sides of Argos’ hills;
And through their gates thrown back do show
Fair gardens rich and trees arow,
Where yet in waking dreams one sees
The Apples of Hesperides,
With but the gleaming scales between