CII.

Bright land, with glory mantled o’er by song! Land of the vision-peopled hills, and streams, And fountains, whose deserted banks along Still the soft air with inspiration teems; Land of the graves, whose dwellers shall be themes To verse for ever; and of ruin’d shrines, That scarce look desolate beneath such beams, As bathe in gold thine ancient rocks and pines? --When shall thy sons repose in peace beneath their vines?