Childe Harold's Pilgrimage 2-79
CANTO THE SECOND.
 
LXXIX.

And whose more rife with merriment than thine,
O Stamboul! once the empress of their reign?
Though turbans now pollute Sophia’s shrine
And Greece her very altars eyes in vain:
(Alas! her woes will still pervade my strain!)
Gay were her minstrels once, for free her throng,
All felt the common joy they now must feign;
Nor oft I’ve seen such sight, nor heard such song,
As wooed the eye, and thrilled the Bosphorus along.

George Gordon Byron, Lord Byron (1788-1824) 
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