Strophe I. <br />Ye shades, where sacred truth is sought; <br />Groves, where immortal Sages taught; <br />Where heav'nly visions of Plato fir'd, <br />And Epicurus lay inspir'd! <br />In vain your guiltless laurels stood <br />Unspotted long with human blood. <br />War, horrid war, your thoughtful walks invades, <br />And steel now glitters in the Muses' shades. <br /> <br />Antistrophe I. <br />Oh heav'n-born sisters! source of art! <br />Who charm the sense, or mend the heart; <br />Who lead fair Virtue's train along, <br />Moral Truth, and mystic Song! <br />To what new clime, what distant sky, <br />Forsaken, friendless, shall ye fly? <br />Say, will you bless the bleak Atlantic shore? <br />Or bid the furious Gaul be rude no more? <br /> <br />Strophe II. <br />When Athens sinks by fates unjust, <br />When wild Barbarians spurn her dust; <br />Perhaps ev'n Britain's utmost shore, <br />Shall cease to blush with strager's gore. <br />See Arts her savage sons control, <br />And Athens rising near the pole! <br />'Till some new Tyrant lifts his purple hand, <br />And civil madness tears them from this land. <br /> <br />Antistrophe II. <br />Ye Gods! what justice rules the ball? <br />Freedom and Arts together fall; <br />Fools grant whate'er Ambition craves, <br />And men, once ignorant, are slaves. <br />Oh curs'd effects of civil hate, <br />In ev'ry age, in ev'ry state! <br />Still, when the lust of tyrant power succeeds, <br />Some Athens perishes, some Tully bleeds.<br /><br />Alexander Pope<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/chorus-of-athenians/
