Childe Harold's Pilgrimage

   More bleak to view the hills at length recede,
   And, less luxuriant, smoother vales extend: 
   Immense horizon-bounded plains succeed! 
   Far as the eye discerns, withouten end,
   Spain’s realms appear, whereon her shepherds tend
   Flocks, whose rich fleece right well the trader knows —
   Now must the pastor’s arm his lambs defend: 
   For Spain is compassed by unyielding foes,
And all must shield their all, or share Subjection’s woes.