"The last spot of Earth's orb I trod upon
Was a proud temple called the Parthenon;28
More beauty clung around her columned wall
Then even thy glowing bosom beats withal,29
And when old Time my wing did disenthral
Thence sprang I—as the eagle from his tower,
And years I left behind me in an hour.
What time upon her airy bounds I hung,
One half the garden of her globe was flung
Unrolling as a chart unto my view—
Tenantless cities of the desert too!
Ianthe, beauty crowded on me then,
And half I wished to be again of men."