Explore "Ode on Venice" by Lord Byron on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I / Oh Venice! Venice! When thy marble walls / Are level with the waters, there shall be / A cry of nations o'er thy sunken halls, / A loud lament along the sweeping sea! / If I, a northern wanderer, weep for thee,
What should thy sons do? - anything but weep; / And yet they only murmur in their sleep. / In contrast with their fathers - as the slime, / The dull green ooze of the receding deep, / Is with the dashing of the spring-tide foam / That drives the sailor shipless to his home, / Are they to those that were; and thus they creep, / Crouching and crab-like through their sapping streets.