LXVIII.

How oft hath war his host of spoilers pour’d, Fair Elis! o’er thy consecrated vales?[42] There have the sunbeams glanced on spear and sword, And banners floated on the balmy gales. Once didst thou smile, secure in sanctitude, As some enchanted isle mid stormy seas; On thee no hostile footstep might intrude, And pastoral sounds alone were on thy breeze. Forsaken home of peace! that spell is broke: Thou too hast heard the storm, and bow’d beneath the yoke.