Athens, The Eye Of Greece, Mother Of

A Boundless Continent, Dark, Waste, And Wild, Under The Frown Of Night Starless Expos'd.

I See Thou Art Implacable, More Deaf To Pray'rs Than Winds And Seas. Yet Winds To Seas Are Reconcil'd At Length, And Sea To Shore: Thy Anger, Unappeasable, Still Rages Eternal Tempest Never To Be Calm'd.

But Oh! As To Embrace Me She Inclin'd, I Wak'd, She Fled, And Day Brought Back My Night.

Sense Of Pleasure We May Well Spare Out Of Life Perhaps, And Not Repine, But Live Content, Which Is The Calmest Life; But Pain Is Perfect Misery, The Worst Of Evils, And Excessive, Overturns All Patience.

Sweet Is The Breath Of Morn, Her Rising Sweet, With Charm Of Earliest Birds.