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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=431441" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Constantinople</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Written January 1718 in the Chiosk at Pera, overlooking Constantinople</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Give me Great God (said I) a Little Farm<br>in Summer shady, & in Winter warm<br>where a cool spring gives birth to a clear brook<br>by Nature slideing down a mossy Rock<br>Not artfully in Leaden Pipes convey'd<br>Or greatly falling in a forc'd Cascade<br>Pure & unsully'd winding throu' ye Shade.<br>All bounteous Heaven has added to my Praier<br>a softer Climate and a purer Air.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Our Frozen Isle now chilling Winter binds<br>Deform'd by Rains, & rough wth blasting Winds<br>ye wither'd Woods grown white wth hoary Frost<br>by driving storms their scatter'd beautys lost<br>The Trembling birds their leaveless coverts shun<br>And seek in distant Climes a warmer Sun<br>The Water Nymphs their silenced Urns deplore<br>Even Thames benumb'd a River now no more<br>The barren Meadows give no more delight<br>by Glist'ning Snows made painfull to ye Sight.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Here Summer reigns wth one Eternal Smile<br>And double Harvests bless ye happy Soil.<br>Fair, fertile Fields to warm Indulgent Heaven<br>Has every Charm of every Season given!<br>No Killing Cold deforms ye Beauteous Year<br>The springing Flowers no coming Winter Fear<br>But as ye Parent Rose decays & dies<br>ye Infant Buds wth brighter Colours rise<br>And with fresh sweets ye Mother-scent supplys<br>Near them the Vi'let glows wth odours blest<br>And blooms in more than Tyrian Purple drest<br>The rich Jonquils their golden gleam display<br>And shine in glorys emulateing day.<br>These chearfull Groves their living Leaves retain<br>The Streams still murmur undefil'd by Rain<br>And growing Green adorns ye Fruitfull Plain<br>The warbling Kind uninterrupted Sing,<br>Warm'd wth Enjoyment of perpetual Spring.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Here from my Window I at once survey<br>The crouded City, & resounding Sea<br>In distant Views see Assian Mountains rise<br>And Lose their Snowy Summits in ye Skies.<br>Above those Mountains high Olympus Tow'rs<br>The Parliamental Seat of Heavenly Powers.<br>New to ye Sight my ravish'd Eyes admire<br>Each guilded Crescent & each Antique Spire<br>The Fair Serail where sunk in Idle ease<br>The Lazy Monarch melts his thoughtless days<br>The Marble Mosques beneath whose Ample Domes<br>Fierce Warlike Sultans sleep in peacefull Tombs<br>Those lofty Structures once the Christian boast<br>Their Names, their Honnours, & their Beautys lost<br>Those Altars bright wth Gold, wth Sculpture grac'd<br>By barbarous Zeal of savage Foes defac'd<br>Convents where Emperors profess'd of old<br>The Labour'd Pillars that their Triumphs told.<br>Vain Monuments of Men that once were great!<br>Sunk, undistinguish'd, by one Common Fate!<br>How art thou falln Imperial City, Low!<br>Where are thy Hopes of Roman Glory now?<br>Where are thy Palaces by Prelates rais'd<br>Where preistly Pomp in Purple Lustre blaz'd?<br>So vast, that Youthfull Kings might there reside<br>So Splendid; to content a Patriarchs pride<br>Where Grecian Artists all their skill displayd<br>Before ye happy Sciences decay'd;<br>So vast, that Youthfull Kings might there reside<br>So Splendid; to content a Patriarchs Pride;<br>Convents where Emperors proffess'd of Old,<br>The Labour'd Pillars that their Triumphs told,<br>Vain Monuments of Men that once were great!<br>Sunk, undistinguish'd in one common Fate!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">One Little Spot, the small Fenar contains,<br>Of Greek Nobillity, the poor Remains,<br>Where other Helens show like powerfull Charms<br>As once engag'd the Warring World in Arms:<br>Those Names that Roial Auncestry can boast<br>In mean Mechanic Arts obscurely lost<br>Those Eyes a second Homer might inspire,<br>fix'd at the Loom, destroy their useless Fire.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Greiv'd at a view which strikes vpon my Mind<br>The short liv'd Vanity of Human kind<br>In Gaudy Objects I indulge my Sight,<br>And turn where Eastern Pomp gives gay delight.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">See; the vast Train in various Habits dress'd!<br>By the Bright Seymetar and Sable Vest;<br>The Vizier proud, distinguish'd o're the rest!<br>Six slaves in gay Attire his Bridle hold;<br>His Bridle rough with Gems, his Stirups Gold;<br>His Snowy Steed adorn'd with lavish Pride<br>Whole Troops of Soldiers mounted by his Side,<br>These toss the Plumy Crest, Arabian Coursers guide.<br>With awfull Duty all decline their Eyes,<br>No bellowing Shouts of noisy Crouds arise;<br>Silence in solemn State the march attends<br>Till at the dread Divan the slow processions ends.<br>Yet not these Objects all profusely Gay,<br>The Gilded Navy that adorns the Sea,<br>The riseing City in Confusion fair;<br>Magnificently form'd irregular<br>Where Woods and Palaces at once surprise<br>Gardens, on Gardens, Domes on Domes arise<br>And endless Beauties tire the wandering Eyes,<br>So sooths my Wishes, or so charms my Mind,<br>As this Retreat, secure from Human kind.<br>No Knaves successfull Craft does Spleen excite<br>No Coxcombs tawdry Splendour shocks my Sight;<br>No Mob Alarm awakes my Female Fears,<br>No unrewarded Merit asks my Tears;<br>Nor Praise my Mind, nor Envy hurts my Ear,<br>Even Fame it selfe can hardly reach me here,<br>Impertinence with all her Tattling Train<br>Fair-sounding Flatterys delicious Bane<br>Censorious Folly; Noisy Party Rage;<br>The Thousand with which she must engage<br>Who dare have Virtue in a Vicious Age.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Lady+Mary+Wortley+Montagu">Lady Mary Wortley Montagu</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=431441" data-title="Constantinople de Lady Mary Wortley Montagu" data-description="Written January 1718 in the Chiosk at Pera, overlooking Constantinople


Give me Great God (said I) a Little Farm
in Summer shady, & in Winter warm
where a cool spring gives birth to a clear brook
by Nature slideing down a mossy Rock
Not artfully ..."></div>
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