Illyrian woodlands, echoing falls <br />Of water, sheets of summer glass, <br />The long divine Peneian pass, <br />The vast Akrokeraunian walls, <br /> <br />Tomohrit, Athos, all things fair, <br />With such a pencil, such a pen, <br />You shadow forth to distant men, <br />I read and felt that I was there: <br /> <br />And trust me while I turn'd the page, <br />And track'd you still on classic ground, <br />I grew in gladness till I found <br />My spirits in the golden age. <br /> <br />For me the torrent ever pour'd <br />And glisten'd -- here and there alone <br />The broad-limb'd gods at random thrown <br />By fountain urns; -- and Naiads oar'd <br /> <br />A glimmering shoulder under gloom <br />Of cavern pillars; on the swell <br />The silver lily heaved and fell; <br />And many a slope was rich in bloom <br /> <br />From him that on the mountain lea <br />By dancing rivulets fed his flocks, <br />To him who sat upon the rocks, <br />And fluted to the morning sea.<br /><br />Alfred Lord Tennyson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-edward-lear-on-his-travels-in-greece/
