Decadence of Greece, 1830

Young tourist to the land whose hope has pass'd!
Fain would I seek with thee those shores sublime
That hear no promise from the lips of Time,
Of hours so bright as those he overcast!
There is that Athens! still in ruin fair,
Though long gone by her intellectual reign;
Arcadia waits in patient beauty there,
To hear her lingering shepherd's voice again!
Too oft our travellers ply a clumsy art
Here in the West! No faithful light they lend;
But keep the dues of Fame so ill apart,
That the great claims of mount and valley blend;
Misname the passes with incurious ease,
And mix the records of the plashing seas!