And who may grieve that, rescued from their hands, Spoilers of excellence and foes to art, Thy relics, Athens! borne to other lands, Claim homage still to thee from every heart Though now no more th’ exploring stranger’s sight, Fix’d in deep reverence on Minerva’s fane, Shall hail, beneath their native heaven of light, All that remain’d of forms adored in vain; A few short years--and, vanish’d from the scene, To blend with classic dust their proudest lot had been. LXXXIX. Fair Parthenon! yet still must Fancy weep For thee, thou work of nobler spirits flown. Bright, as of old, the sunbeams o’er thee sleep In all their beauty still--and thine is gone! Empires have sunk since thou wert first revered, And varying rights have sanctified thy shrine. The dust is round thee of the race that rear’d Thy walls; and thou--their fate must soon be thine! But when shall earth again exult to see Visions divine like theirs renew’d in aught like thee? XC. Lone are thy pillars now--each passing gale Sighs o’er them as a spirit’s voice, which moan’d That loneliness, and told the plaintive tale Of the bright synod once above them throned. Mourn, graceful ruin! on thy sacred hill, Thy gods, thy rites, a kindred fate have shared: Yet art thou honour’d in each fragment still That wasting years and barbarous hands had spared; Each hallow’d stone, from rapine’s fury borne, Shall wake bright dreams of thee in ages yet unborn. XCI. Yes! in those fragments, though by time defaced And rude insensate conquerors, yet remains All that may charm th’ enlighten’d eye of taste, On shores where still inspiring freedom reigns. As vital fragrance breathes from every part Of the crush’d myrtle, or the bruisèd rose, E’en thus th’ essential energy of art There in each wreck imperishably glows![49] The soul of Athens lives in every line, Pervading brightly still the ruins of her shrine. XCII. Mark on the storied frieze the graceful train, The holy festival’s triumphal throng, In fair procession to Minerva’s fane, With many a sacred symbol, move along. There every shade of bright existence trace, The fire of youth, the dignity of age; The matron’s calm austerity of grace, The ardent warrior, the benignant sage; The nymph’s light symmetry, the chief’s proud mien-- Each ray of beauty caught and mingled in the scene. XCIII.