Why do I praise a peach
Not on my wall, no, nor within my reach?
Because I see the bloom
And scent the fragrance many steps from home.
Permit me still to praise
The higher Genius of departed days,
Some are there yet who, nurst
In the same dime, are vigorous as the first,
And never waste their hours
(Ardent for action) among meadow flowers.
Greece with calm eyes I see
Her pure white marbles have not blinded me,
But breathe on me the love
Of earthly things as bright as things above:
There is (where is there not?)
In her fair regions many a desert spot;
Neither is Dircè clear,
Nor is Ilissus full throughout the year.