Will love each peak that shows a kindred hue,
Hail in each crag a friend's familiar face,
And clasp the mountain in his mind's embrace.
Long have I roamed through lands which are not mine.
Adored the Alp and loved the Apennine,
Revered Parnassus and beheld the steep
Jove's Ida and Olympus crown the deep.
But t'was not all long ages' lore, nor all
Their nature held me in their thrilling thrall;
The infant rapture still survived the boy,
And Loch-na-gar with Ida look'd o'er Troy.
...
From The Highlands Swelling Blue
Lord Byron
