That which Grecian art created,
Let the Frank, with joy elated,
Bear to Seine's triumphant strand,
And in his museums glorious
Show the trophies all-victorious
To his wondering fatherland.
They to him are silent ever,
Into life's fresh circle never
From their pedestals come down.
He alone e'er holds the Muses
Through whose breast their power diffuses,--
To the Vandal they're but stone!
The Antiques At Paris
Friedrich Schiller
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Poem topics: alone, joy, life, never, power, fresh, silent, stone, circle, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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