Verse > Lord Byron > Poems
Lord Byron (1788–1824).  Poetry of Byron.  1881.
II. Descriptive and Narrative
(Don Juan, Canto iv. Stanzas 76–78.)

THERE, on the green and village-cotted hill, is
  (Flank’d by the Hellespont, and by the sea)
Entomb’d the bravest of the brave, Achilles;
  They say so—(Bryant says the contrary):
And further downward, tall and towering still, is        5
  The tumulus—of whom? Heaven knows; ’t may be
Patroclus, Ajax, or Protesilaus;
All heroes, who, if living still, would slay us.
High barrows, without marble, or a name,
  A vast, untill’d, and mountain-skirted plain,        10
And Ida in the distance, still the same,
  And old Scamander, (if ’tis he) remain;
The situation seems still form’d for fame—
  A hundred thousand men might fight again
With ease; but where I sought for Ilion’s walls,        15
The quiet sheep feeds, and the tortoise crawls;
Troops of untended horses; here and there
  Some little hamlets, with new names uncouth;
Some shepherds (unlike Paris) led to stare
  A moment at the European youth        20
Whom to the spot their school-boy feelings bear;
  A Turk, with beads in hand, and pipe in mouth,
Extremely taken with his own religion,
Are what I found there—but the devil a Phrygian.

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