Classic Poem

Whither shall I flee for refuge? whither shall I look for aid?
Flight or exile, which is safer? tower and town are both betrayed;
Whom shall I implore for succour? our old altars are no more,
Broken, crushed they lie, and splintered, and the flames above them roar.
And our walls all blackened stand—O my father! father-land!
O thou haughty house of Priam—temple with the gates surrounded
I have seen thee—all thy splendour, all thy eastern pomp unbounded—
All thy roofs and painted ceilings, all the treasures they contain,
I have seen them—seen them blazing—I have seen old Priam slain,
Foully murdered, and the altar of the Highest bears the stain.

Whither shall I flee for refuge? whither shall I look for aid?
Flight or exile, which is safer? tower and town are both betrayed;
Whom shall I implore for succour? our old altars are no more,
Broken, crushed they lie, and splintered, and the flames above them roar.
And our walls all blackened stand—O my father! father-land!
O thou haughty house of Priam—temple with the gates surrounded
I have seen thee—all thy splendour, all thy eastern pomp unbounded—
All thy roofs and painted ceilings, all the treasures they contain,
I have seen them—seen them blazing—I have seen old Priam slain,
Foully murdered, and the altar of the Highest bears the stain.