DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.4593#0147
128 THE ISLES AND SHRINES OF GREECE
A misty veil drops over the scene. The light of
Athens pales. Goths and barbarians sweep down
upon it. The scimitar of the Turk flashes in the
sky and the long night comes.
Greek nationality is not dead, but sleeping. It
rises, struggles, bursts its bands, gathers its scanty,
blood-stained robes about it and takes again, by
sufferance, its humble place among the kingdoms of
the earth. There is a new Athens, an Athens of
to-day, and as we walk to the Belvedere on the eastern
verge of the Acropolis we may hear a locomotive
whistle and see the electric lights gleaming in the
streets below.
A misty veil drops over the scene. The light of
Athens pales. Goths and barbarians sweep down
upon it. The scimitar of the Turk flashes in the
sky and the long night comes.
Greek nationality is not dead, but sleeping. It
rises, struggles, bursts its bands, gathers its scanty,
blood-stained robes about it and takes again, by
sufferance, its humble place among the kingdoms of
the earth. There is a new Athens, an Athens of
to-day, and as we walk to the Belvedere on the eastern
verge of the Acropolis we may hear a locomotive
whistle and see the electric lights gleaming in the
streets below.