Childe Harold's Pilgrimage - Canto The Second. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BCDECFCFF A GHEHHEHEE A IJIJJKJKK L MFMFFNFNO L PQPQQRQRR L STSHHUHUU L M MVVWVWW L LIQIIXIXX Q YVYVVWVWW Q VQVQQLQLL Q VQVQQVQVV Q ZA2ZB2A2QB2QQ Q C2QC2QQD2QD2D2 L E2F2E2F2F2IF2II L QG2QH2H2H2H2H2H2 L H2LH2LLQLQQ L QH2QH2H2I2H2I2I2 L VQVLLQLQQ Q VQVQQLQLL Q J2F2J2F2F2QF2QQ Q LH2LH2H2LH2LL Q IQIQQVQVV Q K2H2K2H2H2L2H2L2L2 L H2IH2IIH2IH2H2 L RVRVVH2VH2H2 L VQVQQH2QH2H2 L H2VH2VVH2VH2H2 L M2H2M2H2H2RH2RR Q QN2QN2N2H2N2H2H2 Q VIVIIVIVV Q LH2LH2H2IH2II Q QQQO2QQO2QQ Q H2H2H2H2H2QH2QQ L H2QH2QQQQQQ L QH2QH2H2QH2QQ L P2H2P2H2H2H2H2H2H2 L Q2H2Q2H2H2R2H2R2R2 L QQQQQVQVV Q H2LH2LLILII Q2 LILIIH2IH2H2 Q2 LFLFFH2FH2H2 F QS2QS2T2IS2II F VQVQQH2QH2H2 Q IH2IH2H2QH2QQ Q H2U2H2U2U2QU2QQ Q V2QV2QQH2QH2H2 Q T2H2T2H2H2H2H2H2H2 Q I2H2FH2H2FH2FF Q FQFH2QH2QH2H2 F H2QH2QQF2QF2F2 H2 H2IH2IIQIQQ H2 QH2QH2H2W2H2W2W2 H2 QQQQQX2QX2X2 Q H2QH2QQQQQQ Q H2QH2H2QQQQQ Q IH2IH2H2H2H2H2H2 Q IIIIIF2IF2F2 Q QQQQQS2QS2S2 Q QH2QH2H2H2H2H2 Q H2QH2QQQQQQ Q H2QH2QQQQQQ Q U2QU2QQQQQQ Q H2Y2H2Y2Y2QY2QQ Q QH2QH2H2QH2QQ Q M2IM2IIH2IH2H2 Q IQIQQQQQQ Q Z2IZ2IIA3I A3A3 Q H2B3H2C3C3H2C3H2H2 Q QH2QH2H2H2H2H2H2 Q QH2QH2H2QH2QQ Q H2H2H2H2H2QH2QQ Q H2IH2QQH2QH2H2 IIH2H2 H2H2W2W2 QQII QQII QQII QQII Y2Y2II H2H2H2H2 IIQO2 H2H2QQ IIII Q Y2H2Y2H2H2V2H2V2V2 I IQIQQH2QH2H2 I QQQH2QD3QE3E3 Q H2IH2IIV2IV2V2 I IH2IH2H2H2H2H2H2 I QIQIIH2IH2H2 Q QQQQQP2QP2P2 Q IQIQQIQII Q V2H2V2H2H2H2H2H2H2 Q H2QH2QQH2QH2H2 Q QH2QH2H2H2H2H2H2 I H2QH2QQH2QH2H2 I IIIIIY2IY2Y2 I QIQIIQIQ I H2QH2QQIQII I H2H2H2H2H2QH2QQ Q V2H2V2H2H2IH2II P2 IIIIIH2IH2H2 Q H2P2H2P2P2IP2II Q V2Y2V2Y2Y2H2Y2H2H2 Q H2H2H2H2H2H2H2H2H2 I P2QP2QQIQII I QH2QH2H2V2H2V2V2 I H2H2H2H2H2H2H2H2H2 I H2P2H2P2P2IP2II I E3IE3IIH2IH2H2I | A |
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Come blue eyed maid of heaven but thou alas | B |
Didst never yet one mortal song inspire | C |
Goddess of Wisdom here thy temple was | D |
And is despite of war and wasting fire | E |
And years that bade thy worship to expire | C |
But worse than steel and flame and ages slow | F |
Is the drear sceptre and dominion dire | C |
Of men who never felt the sacred glow | F |
That thoughts of thee and thine on polished breasts bestow | F |
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II | A |
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Ancient of days august Athena where | G |
Where are thy men of might thy grand in soul | H |
Gone glimmering through the dream of things that were | E |
First in the race that led to Glory's goal | H |
They won and passed away is this the whole | H |
A schoolboy's tale the wonder of an hour | E |
The warrior's weapon and the sophist's stole | H |
Are sought in vain and o'er each mouldering tower | E |
Dim with the mist of years grey flits the shade of power | E |
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III | A |
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Son of the morning rise approach you here | I |
Come but molest not yon defenceless urn | J |
Look on this spot a nation's sepulchre | I |
Abode of gods whose shrines no longer burn | J |
E'en gods must yield religions take their turn | J |
'Twas Jove's 'tis Mahomet's and other creeds | K |
Will rise with other years till man shall learn | J |
Vainly his incense soars his victim bleeds | K |
Poor child of Doubt and Death whose hope is built on reeds | K |
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IV | L |
- | |
Bound to the earth he lifts his eyes to heaven | M |
Is't not enough unhappy thing to know | F |
Thou art Is this a boon so kindly given | M |
That being thou wouldst be again and go | F |
Thou know'st not reck'st not to what region so | F |
On earth no more but mingled with the skies | N |
Still wilt thou dream on future joy and woe | F |
Regard and weigh yon dust before it flies | N |
That little urn saith more than thousand homilies | O |
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V | L |
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Or burst the vanished hero's lofty mound | P |
Far on the solitary shore he sleeps | Q |
He fell and falling nations mourned around | P |
But now not one of saddening thousands weeps | Q |
Nor warlike worshipper his vigil keeps | Q |
Where demi gods appeared as records tell | R |
Remove yon skull from out the scattered heaps | Q |
Is that a temple where a God may dwell | R |
Why e'en the worm at last disdains her shattered cell | R |
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VI | L |
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Look on its broken arch its ruined wall | S |
Its chambers desolate and portals foul | T |
Yes this was once Ambition's airy hall | S |
The dome of Thought the Palace of the Soul | H |
Behold through each lack lustre eyeless hole | H |
The gay recess of Wisdom and of Wit | U |
And Passion's host that never brooked control | H |
Can all saint sage or sophist ever writ | U |
People this lonely tower this tenement refit | U |
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VII | L |
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Well didst thou speak Athena's wisest son | M |
'All that we know is nothing can be known ' | - |
Why should we shrink from what we cannot shun | M |
Each hath its pang but feeble sufferers groan | V |
With brain born dreams of evil all their own | V |
Pursue what chance or fate proclaimeth best | W |
Peace waits us on the shores of Acheron | V |
There no forced banquet claims the sated guest | W |
But Silence spreads the couch of ever welcome rest | W |
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VIII | L |
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Yet if as holiest men have deemed there be | L |
A land of souls beyond that sable shore | I |
To shame the doctrine of the Sadducee | Q |
And sophists madly vain of dubious lore | I |
How sweet it were in concert to adore | I |
With those who made our mortal labours light | X |
To hear each voice we feared to hear no more | I |
Behold each mighty shade revealed to sight | X |
The Bactrian Samian sage and all who taught the right | X |
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IX | Q |
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There thou whose love and life together fled | Y |
Have left me here to love and live in vain | V |
Twined with my heart and can I deem thee dead | Y |
When busy memory flashes on my brain | V |
Well I will dream that we may meet again | V |
And woo the vision to my vacant breast | W |
If aught of young Remembrance then remain | V |
Be as it may Futurity's behest | W |
For me 'twere bliss enough to know thy spirit blest | W |
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X | Q |
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Here let me sit upon this mossy stone | V |
The marble column's yet unshaken base | Q |
Here son of Saturn was thy favourite throne | V |
Mightiest of many such Hence let me trace | Q |
The latent grandeur of thy dwelling place | Q |
It may not be nor even can Fancy's eye | L |
Restore what time hath laboured to deface | Q |
Yet these proud pillars claim no passing sigh | L |
Unmoved the Moslem sits the light Greek carols by | L |
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XI | Q |
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But who of all the plunderers of yon fane | V |
On high where Pallas lingered loth to flee | Q |
The latest relic of her ancient reign | V |
The last the worst dull spoiler who was he | Q |
Blush Caledonia such thy son could be | Q |
England I joy no child he was of thine | V |
Thy free born men should spare what once was free | Q |
Yet they could violate each saddening shrine | V |
And bear these altars o'er the long reluctant brine | V |
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XII | Q |
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But most the modern Pict's ignoble boast | Z |
To rive what Goth and Turk and Time hath spared | A2 |
Cold as the crags upon his native coast | Z |
His mind as barren and his heart as hard | B2 |
Is he whose head conceived whose hand prepared | A2 |
Aught to displace Athena's poor remains | Q |
Her sons too weak the sacred shrine to guard | B2 |
Yet felt some portion of their mother's pains | Q |
And never knew till then the weight of Despot's chains | Q |
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XIII | Q |
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What shall it e'er be said by British tongue | C2 |
Albion was happy in Athena's tears | Q |
Though in thy name the slaves her bosom wrung | C2 |
Tell not the deed to blushing Europe's ears | Q |
The ocean queen the free Britannia bears | Q |
The last poor plunder from a bleeding land | D2 |
Yes she whose generous aid her name endears | Q |
Tore down those remnants with a harpy's hand | D2 |
Which envious eld forbore and tyrants left to stand | D2 |
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XIV | L |
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Where was thine aegis Pallas that appalled | E2 |
Stern Alaric and Havoc on their way | F2 |
Where Peleus' son whom Hell in vain enthralled | E2 |
His shade from Hades upon that dread day | F2 |
Bursting to light in terrible array | F2 |
What could not Pluto spare the chief once more | I |
To scare a second robber from his prey | F2 |
Idly he wandered on the Stygian shore | I |
Nor now preserved the walls he loved to shield before | I |
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XV | L |
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Cold is the heart fair Greece that looks on thee | Q |
Nor feels as lovers o'er the dust they loved | G2 |
Dull is the eye that will not weep to see | Q |
Thy walls defaced thy mouldering shrines removed | H2 |
By British hands which it had best behoved | H2 |
To guard those relics ne'er to be restored | H2 |
Curst be the hour when from their isle they roved | H2 |
And once again thy hapless bosom gored | H2 |
And snatched thy shrinking gods to northern climes abhorred | H2 |
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XVI | L |
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But where is Harold shall I then forget | H2 |
To urge the gloomy wanderer o'er the wave | L |
Little recked he of all that men regret | H2 |
No loved one now in feigned lament could rave | L |
No friend the parting hand extended gave | L |
Ere the cold stranger passed to other climes | Q |
Hard is his heart whom charms may not enslave | L |
But Harold felt not as in other times | Q |
And left without a sigh the land of war and crimes | Q |
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XVII | L |
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He that has sailed upon the dark blue sea | Q |
Has viewed at times I ween a full fair sight | H2 |
When the fresh breeze is fair as breeze may be | Q |
The white sails set the gallant frigate tight | H2 |
Masts spires and strand retiring to the right | H2 |
The glorious main expanding o'er the bow | I2 |
The convoy spread like wild swans in their flight | H2 |
The dullest sailer wearing bravely now | I2 |
So gaily curl the waves before each dashing prow | I2 |
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XVIII | L |
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And oh the little warlike world within | V |
The well reeved guns the netted canopy | Q |
The hoarse command the busy humming din | V |
When at a word the tops are manned on high | L |
Hark to the boatswain's call the cheering cry | L |
While through the seaman's hand the tackle glides | Q |
Or schoolboy midshipman that standing by | L |
Strains his shrill pipe as good or ill betides | Q |
And well the docile crew that skilful urchin guides | Q |
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XIX | Q |
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White is the glassy deck without a stain | V |
Where on the watch the staid lieutenant walks | Q |
Look on that part which sacred doth remain | V |
For the lone chieftain who majestic stalks | Q |
Silent and feared by all not oft he talks | Q |
With aught beneath him if he would preserve | L |
That strict restraint which broken ever baulks | Q |
Conquest and Fame but Britons rarely swerve | L |
From law however stern which tends their strength to nerve | L |
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XX | Q |
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Blow swiftly blow thou keel compelling gale | J2 |
Till the broad sun withdraws his lessening ray | F2 |
Then must the pennant bearer slacken sail | J2 |
That lagging barks may make their lazy way | F2 |
Ah grievance sore and listless dull delay | F2 |
To waste on sluggish hulks the sweetest breeze | Q |
What leagues are lost before the dawn of day | F2 |
Thus loitering pensive on the willing seas | Q |
The flapping sails hauled down to halt for logs like these | Q |
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XXI | Q |
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The moon is up by Heaven a lovely eve | L |
Long streams of light o'er dancing waves expand | H2 |
Now lads on shore may sigh and maids believe | L |
Such be our fate when we return to land | H2 |
Meantime some rude Arion's restless hand | H2 |
Wakes the brisk harmony that sailors love | L |
A circle there of merry listeners stand | H2 |
Or to some well known measure featly move | L |
Thoughtless as if on shore they still were free to rove | L |
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XXII | Q |
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Through Calpe's straits survey the steepy shore | I |
Europe and Afric on each other gaze | Q |
Lands of the dark eyed maid and dusky Moor | I |
Alike beheld beneath pale Hecate's blaze | Q |
How softly on the Spanish shore she plays | Q |
Disclosing rock and slope and forest brown | V |
Distinct though darkening with her waning phase | Q |
But Mauritania's giant shadows frown | V |
From mountain cliff to coast descending sombre down | V |
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XXIII | Q |
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'Tis night when Meditation bids us feel | K2 |
We once have loved though love is at an end | H2 |
The heart lone mourner of its baffled zeal | K2 |
Though friendless now will dream it had a friend | H2 |
Who with the weight of years would wish to bend | H2 |
When Youth itself survives young Love and Joy | L2 |
Alas when mingling souls forget to blend | H2 |
Death hath but little left him to destroy | L2 |
Ah happy years once more who would not be a boy | L2 |
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XXIV | L |
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Thus bending o'er the vessel's laving side | H2 |
To gaze on Dian's wave reflected sphere | I |
The soul forgets her schemes of Hope and Pride | H2 |
And flies unconscious o'er each backward year | I |
None are so desolate but something dear | I |
Dearer than self possesses or possessed | H2 |
A thought and claims the homage of a tear | I |
A flashing pang of which the weary breast | H2 |
Would still albeit in vain the heavy heart divest | H2 |
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XXV | L |
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To sit on rocks to muse o'er flood and fell | R |
To slowly trace the forest's shady scene | V |
Where things that own not man's dominion dwell | R |
And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been | V |
To climb the trackless mountain all unseen | V |
With the wild flock that never needs a fold | H2 |
Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean | V |
This is not solitude 'tis but to hold | H2 |
Converse with Nature's charms and view her stores unrolled | H2 |
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XXVI | L |
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But midst the crowd the hum the shock of men | V |
To hear to see to feel and to possess | Q |
And roam along the world's tired denizen | V |
With none who bless us none whom we can bless | Q |
Minions of splendour shrinking from distress | Q |
None that with kindred consciousness endued | H2 |
If we were not would seem to smile the less | Q |
Of all that flattered followed sought and sued | H2 |
This is to be alone this this is solitude | H2 |
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XXVII | L |
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More blest the life of godly eremite | H2 |
Such as on lonely Athos may be seen | V |
Watching at eve upon the giant height | H2 |
Which looks o'er waves so blue skies so serene | V |
That he who there at such an hour hath been | V |
Will wistful linger on that hallowed spot | H2 |
Then slowly tear him from the witching scene | V |
Sigh forth one wish that such had been his lot | H2 |
Then turn to hate a world he had almost forgot | H2 |
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XXVIII | L |
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Pass we the long unvarying course the track | M2 |
Oft trod that never leaves a trace behind | H2 |
Pass we the calm the gale the change the tack | M2 |
And each well known caprice of wave and wind | H2 |
Pass we the joys and sorrows sailors find | H2 |
Cooped in their winged sea girt citadel | R |
The foul the fair the contrary the kind | H2 |
As breezes rise and fall and billows swell | R |
Till on some jocund morn lo land and all is well | R |
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XXIX | Q |
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But not in silence pass Calypso's isles | Q |
The sister tenants of the middle deep | N2 |
There for the weary still a haven smiles | Q |
Though the fair goddess long has ceased to weep | N2 |
And o'er her cliffs a fruitless watch to keep | N2 |
For him who dared prefer a mortal bride | H2 |
Here too his boy essayed the dreadful leap | N2 |
Stern Mentor urged from high to yonder tide | H2 |
While thus of both bereft the nymph queen doubly sighed | H2 |
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XXX | Q |
- | |
Her reign is past her gentle glories gone | V |
But trust not this too easy youth beware | I |
A mortal sovereign holds her dangerous throne | V |
And thou mayst find a new Calypso there | I |
Sweet Florence could another ever share | I |
This wayward loveless heart it would be thine | V |
But checked by every tie I may not dare | I |
To cast a worthless offering at thy shrine | V |
Nor ask so dear a breast to feel one pang for mine | V |
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XXXI | Q |
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Thus Harold deemed as on that lady's eye | L |
He looked and met its beam without a thought | H2 |
Save Admiration glancing harmless by | L |
Love kept aloof albeit not far remote | H2 |
Who knew his votary often lost and caught | H2 |
But knew him as his worshipper no more | I |
And ne'er again the boy his bosom sought | H2 |
Since now he vainly urged him to adore | I |
Well deemed the little god his ancient sway was o'er | I |
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XXXII | Q |
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Fair Florence found in sooth with some amaze | Q |
One who 'twas said still sighed to all he saw | Q |
Withstand unmoved the lustre of her gaze | Q |
Which others hailed with real or mimic awe | O2 |
Their hope their doom their punishment their law | Q |
All that gay Beauty from her bondsmen claims | Q |
And much she marvelled that a youth so raw | O2 |
Nor felt nor feigned at least the oft told flames | Q |
Which though sometimes they frown yet rarely anger dames | Q |
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XXXIII | Q |
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Little knew she that seeming marble heart | H2 |
Now masked by silence or withheld by pride | H2 |
Was not unskilful in the spoiler's art | H2 |
And spread its snares licentious far and wide | H2 |
Nor from the base pursuit had turned aside | H2 |
As long as aught was worthy to pursue | Q |
But Harold on such arts no more relied | H2 |
And had he doted on those eyes so blue | Q |
Yet never would he join the lover's whining crew | Q |
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XXXIV | L |
- | |
Not much he kens I ween of woman's breast | H2 |
Who thinks that wanton thing is won by sighs | Q |
What careth she for hearts when once possessed | H2 |
Do proper homage to thine idol's eyes | Q |
But not too humbly or she will despise | Q |
Thee and thy suit though told in moving tropes | Q |
Disguise e'en tenderness if thou art wise | Q |
Brisk Confidence still best with woman copes | Q |
Pique her and soothe in turn soon Passion crowns thy hopes | Q |
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XXXV | L |
- | |
'Tis an old lesson Time approves it true | Q |
And those who know it best deplore it most | H2 |
When all is won that all desire to woo | Q |
The paltry prize is hardly worth the cost | H2 |
Youth wasted minds degraded honour lost | H2 |
These are thy fruits successful Passion these | Q |
If kindly cruel early hope is crossed | H2 |
Still to the last it rankles a disease | Q |
Not to be cured when Love itself forgets to please | Q |
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XXXVI | L |
- | |
Away nor let me loiter in my song | P2 |
For we have many a mountain path to tread | H2 |
And many a varied shore to sail along | P2 |
By pensive Sadness not by Fiction led | H2 |
Climes fair withal as ever mortal head | H2 |
Imagined in its little schemes of thought | H2 |
Or e'er in new Utopias were read | H2 |
To teach man what he might be or he ought | H2 |
If that corrupted thing could ever such be taught | H2 |
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XXXVII | L |
- | |
Dear Nature is the kindest mother still | Q2 |
Though always changing in her aspect mild | H2 |
From her bare bosom let me take my fill | Q2 |
Her never weaned though not her favoured child | H2 |
Oh she is fairest in her features wild | H2 |
Where nothing polished dares pollute her path | R2 |
To me by day or night she ever smiled | H2 |
Though I have marked her when none other hath | R2 |
And sought her more and more and loved her best in wrath | R2 |
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XXXVIII | L |
- | |
Land of Albania where Iskander rose | Q |
Theme of the young and beacon of the wise | Q |
And he his namesake whose oft baffled foes | Q |
Shrunk from his deeds of chivalrous emprise | Q |
Land of Albania let me bend mine eyes | Q |
On thee thou rugged nurse of savage men | V |
The cross descends thy minarets arise | Q |
And the pale crescent sparkles in the glen | V |
Through many a cypress grove within each city's ken | V |
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XXXIX | Q |
- | |
Childe Harold sailed and passed the barren spot | H2 |
Where sad Penelope o'erlooked the wave | L |
And onward viewed the mount not yet forgot | H2 |
The lover's refuge and the Lesbian's grave | L |
Dark Sappho could not verse immortal save | L |
That breast imbued with such immortal fire | I |
Could she not live who life eternal gave | L |
If life eternal may await the lyre | I |
That only Heaven to which Earth's children may aspire | I |
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XL | Q2 |
- | |
'Twas on a Grecian autumn's gentle eve | L |
Childe Harold hailed Leucadia's cape afar | I |
A spot he longed to see nor cared to leave | L |
Oft did he mark the scenes of vanished war | I |
Actium Lepanto fatal Trafalgar | I |
Mark them unmoved for he would not delight | H2 |
Born beneath some remote inglorious star | I |
In themes of bloody fray or gallant fight | H2 |
But loathed the bravo's trade and laughed at martial wight | H2 |
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XLI | Q2 |
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But when he saw the evening star above | L |
Leucadia's far projecting rock of woe | F |
And hailed the last resort of fruitless love | L |
He felt or deemed he felt no common glow | F |
And as the stately vessel glided slow | F |
Beneath the shadow of that ancient mount | H2 |
He watched the billows' melancholy flow | F |
And sunk albeit in thought as he was wont | H2 |
More placid seemed his eye and smooth his pallid front | H2 |
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XLII | F |
- | |
Morn dawns and with it stern Albania's hills | Q |
Dark Suli's rocks and Pindus' inland peak | S2 |
Robed half in mist bedewed with snowy rills | Q |
Arrayed in many a dun and purple streak | S2 |
Arise and as the clouds along them break | T2 |
Disclose the dwelling of the mountaineer | I |
Here roams the wolf the eagle whets his beak | S2 |
Birds beasts of prey and wilder men appear | I |
And gathering storms around convulse the closing year | I |
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XLIII | F |
- | |
Now Harold felt himself at length alone | V |
And bade to Christian tongues a long adieu | Q |
Now he adventured on a shore unknown | V |
Which all admire but many dread to view | Q |
His breast was armed 'gainst fate his wants were few | Q |
Peril he sought not but ne'er shrank to meet | H2 |
The scene was savage but the scene was new | Q |
This made the ceaseless toil of travel sweet | H2 |
Beat back keen winter's blast and welcomed summer's heat | H2 |
- | |
XLIV | Q |
- | |
Here the red cross for still the cross is here | I |
Though sadly scoffed at by the circumcised | H2 |
Forgets that pride to pampered priesthood dear | I |
Churchman and votary alike despised | H2 |
Foul Superstition howsoe'er disguised | H2 |
Idol saint virgin prophet crescent cross | Q |
For whatsoever symbol thou art prized | H2 |
Thou sacerdotal gain but general loss | Q |
Who from true worship's gold can separate thy dross | Q |
- | |
XLV | Q |
- | |
Ambracia's gulf behold where once was lost | H2 |
A world for woman lovely harmless thing | U2 |
In yonder rippling bay their naval host | H2 |
Did many a Roman chief and Asian king | U2 |
To doubtful conflict certain slaughter bring | U2 |
Look where the second Caesar's trophies rose | Q |
Now like the hands that reared them withering | U2 |
Imperial anarchs doubling human woes | Q |
God was thy globe ordained for such to win and lose | Q |
- | |
XLVI | Q |
- | |
From the dark barriers of that rugged clime | V2 |
E'en to the centre of Illyria's vales | Q |
Childe Harold passed o'er many a mount sublime | V2 |
Through lands scarce noticed in historic tales | Q |
Yet in famed Attica such lovely dales | Q |
Are rarely seen nor can fair Tempe boast | H2 |
A charm they know not loved Parnassus fails | Q |
Though classic ground and consecrated most | H2 |
To match some spots that lurk within this lowering coast | H2 |
- | |
XLVII | Q |
- | |
He passed bleak Pindus Acherusia's lake | T2 |
And left the primal city of the land | H2 |
And onwards did his further journey take | T2 |
To greet Albania's chief whose dread command | H2 |
Is lawless law for with a bloody hand | H2 |
He sways a nation turbulent and bold | H2 |
Yet here and there some daring mountain band | H2 |
Disdain his power and from their rocky hold | H2 |
Hurl their defiance far nor yield unless to gold | H2 |
- | |
XLVIII | Q |
- | |
Monastic Zitza from thy shady brow | I2 |
Thou small but favoured spot of holy ground | H2 |
Where'er we gaze around above below | F |
What rainbow tints what magic charms are found | H2 |
Rock river forest mountain all abound | H2 |
And bluest skies that harmonise the whole | F |
Beneath the distant torrent's rushing sound | H2 |
Tells where the volumed cataract doth roll | F |
Between those hanging rocks that shock yet please the soul | F |
- | |
XLIX | Q |
- | |
Amidst the grove that crowns yon tufted hill | F |
Which were it not for many a mountain nigh | Q |
Rising in lofty ranks and loftier still | F |
Might well itself be deemed of dignity | H2 |
The convent's white walls glisten fair on high | Q |
Here dwells the caloyer nor rude is he | H2 |
Nor niggard of his cheer the passer by | Q |
Is welcome still nor heedless will he flee | H2 |
From hence if he delight kind Nature's sheen to see | H2 |
- | |
L | F |
- | |
Here in the sultriest season let him rest | H2 |
Fresh is the green beneath those aged trees | Q |
Here winds of gentlest wing will fan his breast | H2 |
From heaven itself he may inhale the breeze | Q |
The plain is far beneath oh let him seize | Q |
Pure pleasure while he can the scorching ray | F2 |
Here pierceth not impregnate with disease | Q |
Then let his length the loitering pilgrim lay | F2 |
And gaze untired the morn the noon the eve away | F2 |
- | |
LI | H2 |
- | |
Dusky and huge enlarging on the sight | H2 |
Nature's volcanic amphitheatre | I |
Chimera's alps extend from left to right | H2 |
Beneath a living valley seems to stir | I |
Flocks play trees wave streams flow the mountain fir | I |
Nodding above behold black Acheron | Q |
Once consecrated to the sepulchre | I |
Pluto if this be hell I look upon | Q |
Close shamed Elysium's gates my shade shall seek for none | Q |
- | |
LII | H2 |
- | |
No city's towers pollute the lovely view | Q |
Unseen is Yanina though not remote | H2 |
Veiled by the screen of hills here men are few | Q |
Scanty the hamlet rare the lonely cot | H2 |
But peering down each precipice the goat | H2 |
Browseth and pensive o'er his scattered flock | W2 |
The little shepherd in his white capote | H2 |
Doth lean his boyish form along the rock | W2 |
Or in his cave awaits the tempest's short lived shock | W2 |
- | |
LIII | H2 |
- | |
Oh where Dodona is thine aged grove | Q |
Prophetic fount and oracle divine | Q |
What valley echoed the response of Jove | Q |
What trace remaineth of the Thunderer's shrine | Q |
All all forgotten and shall man repine | Q |
That his frail bonds to fleeting life are broke | X2 |
Cease fool the fate of gods may well be thine | Q |
Wouldst thou survive the marble or the oak | X2 |
When nations tongues and worlds must sink beneath the stroke | X2 |
- | |
LIV | Q |
- | |
Epirus' bounds recede and mountains fail | H2 |
Tired of up gazing still the wearied eye | Q |
Reposes gladly on as smooth a vale | H2 |
As ever Spring yclad in grassy dye | Q |
E'en on a plain no humble beauties lie | Q |
Where some bold river breaks the long expanse | Q |
And woods along the banks are waving high | Q |
Whose shadows in the glassy waters dance | Q |
Or with the moonbeam sleep in Midnight's solemn trance | Q |
- | |
LV | Q |
- | |
The sun had sunk behind vast Tomerit | H2 |
The Laos wide and fierce came roaring by | Q |
The shades of wonted night were gathering yet | H2 |
When down the steep banks winding wearily | H2 |
Childe Harold saw like meteors in the sky | Q |
The glittering minarets of Tepalen | Q |
Whose walls o'erlook the stream and drawing nigh | Q |
He heard the busy hum of warrior men | Q |
Swelling the breeze that sighed along the lengthening glen | Q |
- | |
LVI | Q |
- | |
He passed the sacred harem's silent tower | I |
And underneath the wide o'erarching gate | H2 |
Surveyed the dwelling of this chief of power | I |
Where all around proclaimed his high estate | H2 |
Amidst no common pomp the despot sate | H2 |
While busy preparation shook the court | H2 |
Slaves eunuchs soldiers guests and santons wait | H2 |
Within a palace and without a fort | H2 |
Here men of every clime appear to make resort | H2 |
- | |
LVII | Q |
- | |
Richly caparisoned a ready row | I |
Of armed horse and many a warlike store | I |
Circled the wide extending court below | I |
Above strange groups adorned the corridor | I |
And ofttimes through the area's echoing door | I |
Some high capped Tartar spurred his steed away | F2 |
The Turk the Greek the Albanian and the Moor | I |
Here mingled in their many hued array | F2 |
While the deep war drum's sound announced the close of day | F2 |
- | |
LVIII | Q |
- | |
The wild Albanian kirtled to his knee | Q |
With shawl girt head and ornamented gun | Q |
And gold embroidered garments fair to see | Q |
The crimson scarfed men of Macedon | Q |
The Delhi with his cap of terror on | Q |
And crooked glaive the lively supple Greek | S2 |
And swarthy Nubia's mutilated son | Q |
The bearded Turk that rarely deigns to speak | S2 |
Master of all around too potent to be meek | S2 |
- | |
LIX | Q |
- | |
Are mixed conspicuous some recline in groups | Q |
Scanning the motley scene that varies round | H2 |
There some grave Moslem to devotion stoops | Q |
And some that smoke and some that play are found | H2 |
Here the Albanian proudly treads the ground | H2 |
Half whispering there the Greek is heard to prate | H2 |
Hark from the mosque the nightly solemn sound | H2 |
The muezzin's call doth shake the minaret | H2 |
'There is no god but God to prayer lo God is great ' | - |
- | |
LX | Q |
- | |
Just at this season Ramazani's fast | H2 |
Through the long day its penance did maintain | Q |
But when the lingering twilight hour was past | H2 |
Revel and feast assumed the rule again | Q |
Now all was bustle and the menial train | Q |
Prepared and spread the plenteous board within | Q |
The vacant gallery now seemed made in vain | Q |
But from the chambers came the mingling din | Q |
As page and slave anon were passing out and in | Q |
- | |
LXI | Q |
- | |
Here woman's voice is never heard apart | H2 |
And scarce permitted guarded veiled to move | Q |
She yields to one her person and her heart | H2 |
Tamed to her cage nor feels a wish to rove | Q |
For not unhappy in her master's love | Q |
And joyful in a mother's gentlest cares | Q |
Blest cares all other feelings far above | Q |
Herself more sweetly rears the babe she bears | Q |
Who never quits the breast no meaner passion shares | Q |
- | |
LXII | Q |
- | |
In marble paved pavilion where a spring | U2 |
Of living water from the centre rose | Q |
Whose bubbling did a genial freshness fling | U2 |
And soft voluptuous couches breathed repose | Q |
Ali reclined a man of war and woes | Q |
Yet in his lineaments ye cannot trace | Q |
While Gentleness her milder radiance throws | Q |
Along that aged venerable face | Q |
The deeds that lurk beneath and stain him with disgrace | Q |
- | |
LXIII | Q |
- | |
It is not that yon hoary lengthening beard | H2 |
Ill suits the passions which belong to youth | Y2 |
Love conquers age so Hafiz hath averred | H2 |
So sings the Teian and he sings in sooth | Y2 |
But crimes that scorn the tender voice of ruth | Y2 |
Beseeming all men ill but most the man | Q |
In years have marked him with a tiger's tooth | Y2 |
Blood follows blood and through their mortal span | Q |
In bloodier acts conclude those who with blood began | Q |
- | |
LXIV | Q |
- | |
Mid many things most new to ear and eye | Q |
The pilgrim rested here his weary feet | H2 |
And gazed around on Moslem luxury | Q |
Till quickly wearied with that spacious seat | H2 |
Of Wealth and Wantonness the choice retreat | H2 |
Of sated Grandeur from the city's noise | Q |
And were it humbler it in sooth were sweet | H2 |
But Peace abhorreth artificial joys | Q |
And Pleasure leagued with Pomp the zest of both destroys | Q |
- | |
LXV | Q |
- | |
Fierce are Albania's children yet they lack | M2 |
Not virtues were those virtues more mature | I |
Where is the foe that ever saw their back | M2 |
Who can so well the toil of war endure | I |
Their native fastnesses not more secure | I |
Than they in doubtful time of troublous need | H2 |
Their wrath how deadly but their friendship sure | I |
When Gratitude or Valour bids them bleed | H2 |
Unshaken rushing on where'er their chief may lead | H2 |
- | |
LXVI | Q |
- | |
Childe Harold saw them in their chieftain's tower | I |
Thronging to war in splendour and success | Q |
And after viewed them when within their power | I |
Himself awhile the victim of distress | Q |
That saddening hour when bad men hotlier press | Q |
But these did shelter him beneath their roof | Q |
When less barbarians would have cheered him less | Q |
And fellow countrymen have stood aloof | Q |
In aught that tries the heart how few withstand the proof | Q |
- | |
LXVII | Q |
- | |
It chanced that adverse winds once drove his bark | Z2 |
Full on the coast of Suli's shaggy shore | I |
When all around was desolate and dark | Z2 |
To land was perilous to sojourn more | I |
Yet for awhile the mariners forbore | I |
Dubious to trust where treachery might lurk | A3 |
At length they ventured forth though doubting sore | I |
- | |
That those who loathe alike the Frank and Turk | A3 |
Might once again renew their ancient butcher work | A3 |
- | |
LXVIII | Q |
- | |
Vain fear the Suliotes stretched the welcome hand | H2 |
Led them o'er rocks and past the dangerous swamp | B3 |
Kinder than polished slaves though not so bland | H2 |
And piled the hearth and wrung their garments damp | C3 |
And filled the bowl and trimmed the cheerful lamp | C3 |
And spread their fare though homely all they had | H2 |
Such conduct bears Philanthropy's rare stamp | C3 |
To rest the weary and to soothe the sad | H2 |
Doth lesson happier men and shames at least the bad | H2 |
- | |
LXIX | Q |
- | |
It came to pass that when he did address | Q |
Himself to quit at length this mountain land | H2 |
Combined marauders half way barred egress | Q |
And wasted far and near with glaive and brand | H2 |
And therefore did he take a trusty band | H2 |
To traverse Acarnania forest wide | H2 |
In war well seasoned and with labours tanned | H2 |
Till he did greet white Achelous' tide | H2 |
And from his farther bank AEtolia's wolds espied | H2 |
- | |
LXX | Q |
- | |
Where lone Utraikey forms its circling cove | Q |
And weary waves retire to gleam at rest | H2 |
How brown the foliage of the green hill's grove | Q |
Nodding at midnight o'er the calm bay's breast | H2 |
As winds come whispering lightly from the west | H2 |
Kissing not ruffling the blue deep's serene | Q |
Here Harold was received a welcome guest | H2 |
Nor did he pass unmoved the gentle scene | Q |
For many a joy could he from night's soft presence glean | Q |
- | |
LXXI | Q |
- | |
On the smooth shore the night fires brightly blazed | H2 |
The feast was done the red wine circling fast | H2 |
And he that unawares had there ygazed | H2 |
With gaping wonderment had stared aghast | H2 |
For ere night's midmost stillest hour was past | H2 |
The native revels of the troop began | Q |
Each palikar his sabre from him cast | H2 |
And bounding hand in hand man linked to man | Q |
Yelling their uncouth dirge long danced the kirtled clan | Q |
- | |
LXXII | Q |
- | |
Childe Harold at a little distance stood | H2 |
And viewed but not displeased the revelrie | I |
Nor hated harmless mirth however rude | H2 |
In sooth it was no vulgar sight to see | Q |
Their barbarous yet their not indecent glee | Q |
And as the flames along their faces gleamed | H2 |
Their gestures nimble dark eyes flashing free | Q |
The long wild locks that to their girdles streamed | H2 |
While thus in concert they this lay half sang half screamed | H2 |
- | |
- | |
Tambourgi Tambourgi thy larum afar | I |
Gives hope to the valiant and promise of war | I |
All the sons of the mountains arise at the note | H2 |
Chimariot Illyrian and dark Suliote | H2 |
- | |
Oh who is more brave than a dark Suliote | H2 |
To his snowy camese and his shaggy capote | H2 |
To the wolf and the vulture he leaves his wild flock | W2 |
And descends to the plain like the stream from the rock | W2 |
- | |
Shall the sons of Chimari who never forgive | Q |
The fault of a friend bid an enemy live | Q |
Let those guns so unerring such vengeance forego | I |
What mark is so fair as the breast of a foe | I |
- | |
Macedonia sends forth her invincible race | Q |
For a time they abandon the cave and the chase | Q |
But those scarves of blood red shall be redder before | I |
The sabre is sheathed and the battle is o'er | I |
- | |
Then the pirates of Parga that dwell by the waves | Q |
And teach the pale Franks what it is to be slaves | Q |
Shall leave on the beach the long galley and oar | I |
And track to his covert the captive on shore | I |
- | |
I ask not the pleasure that riches supply | Q |
My sabre shall win what the feeble must buy | Q |
Shall win the young bride with her long flowing hair | I |
And many a maid from her mother shall tear | I |
- | |
I love the fair face of the maid in her youth | Y2 |
Her caresses shall lull me her music shall soothe | Y2 |
Let her bring from her chamber the many toned lyre | I |
And sing us a song on the fall of her sire | I |
- | |
Remember the moment when Previsa fell | H2 |
The shrieks of the conquered the conqueror's yell | H2 |
The roofs that we fired and the plunder we shared | H2 |
The wealthy we slaughtered the lovely we spared | H2 |
- | |
I talk not of mercy I talk not of fear | I |
He neither must know who would serve the Vizier | I |
Since the days of our prophet the crescent ne'er saw | Q |
A chief ever glorious like Ali Pasha | O2 |
- | |
Dark Muchtar his son to the Danube is sped | H2 |
Let the yellow haired Giaours view his horsetail with dread | H2 |
When his Delhis come dashing in blood o'er the banks | Q |
How few shall escape from the Muscovite ranks | Q |
- | |
Selictar unsheath then our chief's scimitar | I |
Tambourgi thy larum gives promise of war | I |
Ye mountains that see us descend to the shore | I |
Shall view us as victors or view us no more | I |
- | |
LXXIII | Q |
- | |
Fair Greece sad relic of departed worth | Y2 |
Immortal though no more though fallen great | H2 |
Who now shall lead thy scattered children forth | Y2 |
And long accustomed bondage uncreate | H2 |
Not such thy sons who whilome did await | H2 |
The hopeless warriors of a willing doom | V2 |
In bleak Thermopylae's sepulchral strait | H2 |
Oh who that gallant spirit shall resume | V2 |
Leap from Eurotas' banks and call thee from the tomb | V2 |
- | |
LXXIV | I |
- | |
Spirit of Freedom when on Phyle's brow | I |
Thou sat'st with Thrasybulus and his train | Q |
Couldst thou forbode the dismal hour which now | I |
Dims the green beauties of thine Attic plain | Q |
Not thirty tyrants now enforce the chain | Q |
But every carle can lord it o'er thy land | H2 |
Nor rise thy sons but idly rail in vain | Q |
Trembling beneath the scourge of Turkish hand | H2 |
From birth till death enslaved in word in deed unmanned | H2 |
- | |
LXXV | I |
- | |
In all save form alone how changed and who | Q |
That marks the fire still sparkling in each eye | Q |
Who would but deem their bosom burned anew | Q |
With thy unquenched beam lost Liberty | H2 |
And many dream withal the hour is nigh | Q |
That gives them back their fathers' heritage | D3 |
For foreign arms and aid they fondly sigh | Q |
Nor solely dare encounter hostile rage | E3 |
Or tear their name defiled from Slavery's mournful page | E3 |
- | |
LXXVI | Q |
- | |
Hereditary bondsmen know ye not | H2 |
Who would be free themselves must strike the blow | I |
By their right arms the conquest must be wrought | H2 |
Will Gaul or Muscovite redress ye No | I |
True they may lay your proud despoilers low | I |
But not for you will Freedom's altars flame | V2 |
Shades of the Helots triumph o'er your foe | I |
Greece change thy lords thy state is still the same | V2 |
Thy glorious day is o'er but not thy years of shame | V2 |
- | |
LXXVII | I |
- | |
The city won for Allah from the Giaour | I |
The Giaour from Othman's race again may wrest | H2 |
And the Serai's impenetrable tower | I |
Receive the fiery Frank her former guest | H2 |
Or Wahab's rebel brood who dared divest | H2 |
The Prophet's tomb of all its pious spoil | H2 |
May wind their path of blood along the West | H2 |
But ne'er will Freedom seek this fated soil | H2 |
But slave succeed to slave through years of endless toil | H2 |
- | |
LXXVIII | I |
- | |
Yet mark their mirth ere lenten days begin | Q |
That penance which their holy rites prepare | I |
To shrive from man his weight of mortal sin | Q |
By daily abstinence and nightly prayer | I |
But ere his sackcloth garb Repentance wear | I |
Some days of joyaunce are decreed to all | H2 |
To take of pleasaunce each his secret share | I |
In motley robe to dance at masking ball | H2 |
And join the mimic train of merry Carnival | H2 |
- | |
LXXIX | Q |
- | |
And whose more rife with merriment than thine | Q |
O Stamboul once the empress of their reign | Q |
Though turbans now pollute Sophia's shrine | Q |
And Greece her very altars eyes in vain | Q |
Alas her woes will still pervade my strain | Q |
Gay were her minstrels once for free her throng | P2 |
All felt the common joy they now must feign | Q |
Nor oft I've seen such sight nor heard such song | P2 |
As wooed the eye and thrilled the Bosphorus along | P2 |
- | |
LXXX | Q |
- | |
Loud was the lightsome tumult on the shore | I |
Oft Music changed but never ceased her tone | Q |
And timely echoed back the measured oar | I |
And rippling waters made a pleasant moan | Q |
The Queen of tides on high consenting shone | Q |
And when a transient breeze swept o'er the wave | I |
'Twas as if darting from her heavenly throne | Q |
A brighter glance her form reflected gave | I |
Till sparkling billows seemed to light the banks they lave | I |
- | |
LXXXI | Q |
- | |
Glanced many a light caique along the foam | V2 |
Danced on the shore the daughters of the land | H2 |
No thought had man or maid of rest or home | V2 |
While many a languid eye and thrilling hand | H2 |
Exchanged the look few bosoms may withstand | H2 |
Or gently pressed returned the pressure still | H2 |
Oh Love young Love bound in thy rosy band | H2 |
Let sage or cynic prattle as he will | H2 |
These hours and only these redeemed Life's years of ill | H2 |
- | |
LXXXII | Q |
- | |
But midst the throng in merry masquerade | H2 |
Lurk there no hearts that throb with secret pain | Q |
E'en through the closest searment half betrayed | H2 |
To such the gentle murmurs of the main | Q |
Seem to re echo all they mourn in vain | Q |
To such the gladness of the gamesome crowd | H2 |
Is source of wayward thought and stern disdain | Q |
How do they loathe the laughter idly loud | H2 |
And long to change the robe of revel for the shroud | H2 |
- | |
LXXXIII | Q |
- | |
This must he feel the true born son of Greece | Q |
If Greece one true born patriot can boast | H2 |
Not such as prate of war but skulk in peace | Q |
The bondsman's peace who sighs for all he lost | H2 |
Yet with smooth smile his tyrant can accost | H2 |
And wield the slavish sickle not the sword | H2 |
Ah Greece they love thee least who owe thee most | H2 |
Their birth their blood and that sublime record | H2 |
Of hero sires who shame thy now degenerate horde | H2 |
- | |
LXXXIV | I |
- | |
When riseth Lacedaemon's hardihood | H2 |
When Thebes Epaminondas rears again | Q |
When Athens' children are with hearts endued | H2 |
When Grecian mothers shall give birth to men | Q |
Then mayst thou be restored but not till then | Q |
A thousand years scarce serve to form a state | H2 |
An hour may lay it in the dust and when | Q |
Can man its shattered splendour renovate | H2 |
Recall its virtues back and vanquish Time and Fate | H2 |
- | |
LXXXV | I |
- | |
And yet how lovely in thine age of woe | I |
Land of lost gods and godlike men art thou | I |
Thy vales of evergreen thy hills of snow | I |
Proclaim thee Nature's varied favourite now | I |
Thy fanes thy temples to the surface bow | I |
Commingling slowly with heroic earth | Y2 |
Broke by the share of every rustic plough | I |
So perish monuments of mortal birth | Y2 |
So perish all in turn save well recorded worth | Y2 |
- | |
LXXXVI | I |
- | |
Save where some solitary column mourns | Q |
Above its prostrate brethren of the cave | I |
Save where Tritonia's airy shrine adorns | Q |
Colonna's cliff and gleams along the wave | I |
Save o'er some warrior's half forgotten grave | I |
Where the grey stones and unmolested grass | Q |
Ages but not oblivion feebly brave | I |
While strangers only not regardless pass | Q |
Lingering like me perchance to gaze and sigh 'Alas ' | - |
- | |
LXXXVII | I |
- | |
Yet are thy skies as blue thy crags as wild | H2 |
Sweet are thy groves and verdant are thy fields | Q |
Thine olives ripe as when Minerva smiled | H2 |
And still his honeyed wealth Hymettus yields | Q |
There the blithe bee his fragrant fortress builds | Q |
The freeborn wanderer of thy mountain air | I |
Apollo still thy long long summer gilds | Q |
Still in his beam Mendeli's marbles glare | I |
Art Glory Freedom fail but Nature still is fair | I |
- | |
LXXXVIII | I |
- | |
Where'er we tread 'tis haunted holy ground | H2 |
No earth of thine is lost in vulgar mould | H2 |
But one vast realm of wonder spreads around | H2 |
And all the Muse's tales seem truly told | H2 |
Till the sense aches with gazing to behold | H2 |
The scenes our earliest dreams have dwelt upon | Q |
Each hill and dale each deepening glen and wold | H2 |
Defies the power which crushed thy temples gone | Q |
Age shakes Athena's tower but spares gray Marathon | Q |
- | |
LXXXIX | Q |
- | |
The sun the soil but not the slave the same | V2 |
Unchanged in all except its foreign lord | H2 |
Preserves alike its bounds and boundless fame | V2 |
The battle field where Persia's victim horde | H2 |
First bowed beneath the brunt of Hellas' sword | H2 |
As on the morn to distant Glory dear | I |
When Marathon became a magic word | H2 |
Which uttered to the hearer's eye appear | I |
The camp the host the fight the conqueror's career | I |
- | |
XC | P2 |
- | |
The flying Mede his shaftless broken bow | I |
The fiery Greek his red pursuing spear | I |
Mountains above Earth's Ocean's plain below | I |
Death in the front Destruction in the rear | I |
Such was the scene what now remaineth here | I |
What sacred trophy marks the hallowed ground | H2 |
Recording Freedom's smile and Asia's tear | I |
The rifled urn the violated mound | H2 |
The dust thy courser's hoof rude stranger spurns around | H2 |
- | |
XCI | Q |
- | |
Yet to the remnants of thy splendour past | H2 |
Shall pilgrims pensive but unwearied throng | P2 |
Long shall the voyager with th' Ionian blast | H2 |
Hail the bright clime of battle and of song | P2 |
Long shall thine annals and immortal tongue | P2 |
Fill with thy fame the youth of many a shore | I |
Boast of the aged lesson of the young | P2 |
Which sages venerate and bards adore | I |
As Pallas and the Muse unveil their awful lore | I |
- | |
XCII | Q |
- | |
The parted bosom clings to wonted home | V2 |
If aught that's kindred cheer the welcome hearth | Y2 |
He that is lonely hither let him roam | V2 |
And gaze complacent on congenial earth | Y2 |
Greece is no lightsome land of social mirth | Y2 |
But he whom Sadness sootheth may abide | H2 |
And scarce regret the region of his birth | Y2 |
When wandering slow by Delphi's sacred side | H2 |
Or gazing o'er the plains where Greek and Persian died | H2 |
- | |
XCIII | Q |
- | |
Let such approach this consecrated land | H2 |
And pass in peace along the magic waste | H2 |
But spare its relics let no busy hand | H2 |
Deface the scenes already how defaced | H2 |
Not for such purpose were these altars placed | H2 |
Revere the remnants nations once revered | H2 |
So may our country's name be undisgraced | H2 |
So mayst thou prosper where thy youth was reared | H2 |
By every honest joy of love and life endeared | H2 |
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XCIV | I |
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For thee who thus in too protracted song | P2 |
Hath soothed thine idlesse with inglorious lays | Q |
Soon shall thy voice be lost amid the throng | P2 |
Of louder minstrels in these later days | Q |
To such resign the strife for fading bays | Q |
Ill may such contest now the spirit move | I |
Which heeds nor keen reproach nor partial praise | Q |
Since cold each kinder heart that might approve | I |
And none are left to please where none are left to love | I |
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XCV | I |
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Thou too art gone thou loved and lovely one | Q |
Whom youth and youth's affections bound to me | H2 |
Who did for me what none beside have done | Q |
Nor shrank from one albeit unworthy thee | H2 |
What is my being thou hast ceased to be | H2 |
Nor stayed to welcome here thy wanderer home | V2 |
Who mourns o'er hours which we no more shall see | H2 |
Would they had never been or were to come | V2 |
Would he had ne'er returned to find fresh cause to roam | V2 |
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XCVI | I |
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Oh ever loving lovely and beloved | H2 |
How selfish Sorrow ponders on the past | H2 |
And clings to thoughts now better far removed | H2 |
But Time shall tear thy shadow from me last | H2 |
All thou couldst have of mine stern Death thou hast | H2 |
The parent friend and now the more than friend | H2 |
Ne'er yet for one thine arrows flew so fast | H2 |
And grief with grief continuing still to blend | H2 |
Hath snatched the little joy that life had yet to lend | H2 |
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XCVII | I |
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Then must I plunge again into the crowd | H2 |
And follow all that Peace disdains to seek | P2 |
Where Revel calls and Laughter vainly loud | H2 |
False to the heart distorts the hollow cheek | P2 |
To leave the flagging spirit doubly weak | P2 |
Still o'er the features which perforce they cheer | I |
To feign the pleasure or conceal the pique | P2 |
Smiles form the channel of a future tear | I |
Or raise the writhing lip with ill dissembled sneer | I |
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XCVIII | I |
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What is the worst of woes that wait on age | E3 |
What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow | I |
To view each loved one blotted from life's page | E3 |
And be alone on earth as I am now | I |
Before the Chastener humbly let me bow | I |
O'er hearts divided and o'er hopes destroyed | H2 |
Roll on vain days full reckless may ye flow | I |
Since Time hath reft whate'er my soul enjoyed | H2 |
And with the ills of eld mine earlier years alloyed | H2 |
George Gordon Byron
(1)
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