Athos

To be read slowly, languidly, savoring the imagery of each and every word ...

FRAGMENT FROM THE 'MONK OF ATHOS'

Beside the confines of the Aegean main,

Where northward Macedonia bounds the flood,

And views opposed the Asiatic plain,

Where once the pride of lofty Ilion stood,

Like the great Father of the giant brood,

With lowering port majestic Athos stands,

Crown'd with the verdure of eternal wood,

As yet unspoil'd by sacrilegious hands,

And throws his might shade o'er seas and distant lands.

And deep embosom'd in his shady groves

Full many a convent rears its glittering spire,

Mid scenes where Heavenly Contemplation loves

To kindle in her soul her hallow'd fire,

Where air and sea with rocks and woods conspire

To breathe a sweet religious calm around,

Weaning the thoughts from every low desire,

And the wild waves that break with murmuring sound

Along the rocky shore proclaim it holy ground.

Sequester'd shades where Piety has given

A quiet refuge from each earthly care,

Whence the rapt spirit may ascent to Heaven!

Oh, ye condemn'd the ills of life to bear!

As with advancing age your woes increase,

What bliss admidst these solitudes to share

The happy foretaste of eternal Peace,

Till Heaven in mercy bids your pain and sorrows cease.

- Byron, c. 1810-1812