The Curse Of Minerva. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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Pallas te hoc vulnere PallasA
Immolat et poenam scelerato ex sanguine sumitB
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Aeneid lib xiiA
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Note IC
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In 'The Malediction of Minerva New Monthly Magazine' vol iii p additional footnotes are appendedB
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to line recording the obliteration of Lord Elgin's name which had been inscribed on a pillar of one of the principal temples while that of Lady Elgin had been left untouched andB
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to line giving quotations from pp of Eustace's 'Classical Tour in Italy'D
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After line which reads And well I know within that murky land 'i e' Caledonia the following apology for a hiatus was insertedB
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Here follows in the original certain lines which the editor has exercised his discretion by suppressing inasmuch as they comprise national reflections which the bard's justifiable indignation has made him pour forth against a people which if not universally of an amiable is generally of a respectable character and deserves not in this case to be censured 'en masse' for the faults of an individualD
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NOTE IIC
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The text of 'The Curse of Minerva' is based on that of the quarto printed by T Davison in With the exception of the variants as noted the text corresponds with the MS in the possession of Lord Stanhope Doubtless it represents Byron's final revision The text of an edition of 'The Curse etc' Philadelphia vo printed by De Silver and Co was followed by Galignani third edit etc The same text is followed but not invariably in the selections printed by Hone in lines Wilson lines and Knight and Lacy lines It exhibits the following variants from the quarto ofE
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Line VariantB
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'lands and main '-
'Her helm was deep indented and her lance '-
'Seek'st thou the cause O mortal look around '-
'That Hadrian '-
'The last base brute '-
'Ten thousand schemes of petulance and pride '-
' victors o'er the grave '-
' Time shall tell the rest '-
'Loath'd throughout life scarce pardon'd in the dust '-
'Erostratus and Elgin etc '-
' viler than the firstB
'Shall shake your usurpation to its base '-
'While Lusitania '-
'Then in the Senates '-
' decorate his fall '-
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The following variants may also be notedB
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Line Variant PublisherF
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'Slow sinks now lovely etc ' HoneG
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'The Gothic monarch and the British ' WilsonH
' and his fit compeer '-
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'And well I know within that murky landB
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Dispatched her reckoning children far and wide HoneG
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And well I know albeit afar the landB
Where starving Avarice keeps her chosen bandB
Or sends their hungry numbers eager forthI
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And aye accursed etc ' WilsonH
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Introduction To The Curse Of MinervaJ
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'The Curse of Minerva' which was written at Athens and is dated March remained unpublished as a whole in this country during Byron's life time The arrangement which had been made with Cawthorn to bring out a fifth edition of 'English Bards' included the issue of a separate volume containing 'Hints from Horace' and 'The Curse of Minerva ' and as Moore intimates it was the withdrawal of the latter in deference to the wishes of Lord Elgin or his connections which led to the suppression of the other satiresA
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The quarto edition of The 'Curse of Minerva' printed by T Davison in was probably set up at the same time as Murray's quarto edition of 'Childe Harold' and reserved for private circulation With or without Byron's consent the poem as a whole was published in Philadelphia by De Silver and Co vo for variants see p 'note' In a letter to Murray March he says that he disowns 'The Curse etc ' as stolen and published in a miserable and villainous copy in the magazine The reference is to 'The Malediction of Minerva or The Athenian Marble Market' which appeared in the 'New Monthly Magazine' for April vol iii It numbers lines and is signed Steropes The Lightner a Cyclops The text of the magazine with the same additional footnotes but under the title of 'The Curse' etc was republished in the eighth edition of 'Poems on His Domestic Circumstances' W Hone London vo and thenceforth in other piratical issues Whatever may have been his feelings or intentions in four years later Byron was well aware that 'The Curse of Minerva' would not increase his reputation as a poet while the object of his satire the exposure and denunciation of Lord Elgin had been accomplished by the scathing stanzas canto ii with their accompanying note in 'Childe Harold' Disown it as he might his words were past recall and both indictments stand in his nameK
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Byron was prejudiced against Elgin before he started on his tour He had perhaps glanced at the splendid folio 'Specimens of Ancient Sculpture' which was issued by the Dilettanti Society in Payne Knight wrote the preface in which he maintains that the friezes and metopes of the Parthenon were not the actual work of Phidias but architectural studies probably by workmen scarcely ranked among artists So judged the leader of the 'cognoscenti' and in accordance with his views Elgin and Aberdeen are held up to ridicule in 'English Bards' second edition October and 'note' as credulous and extravagant collectors of maimed antiques It was however not till the first visit to Athens December March when he saw with his own eyes the ravages of barbarous and antiquarian despoilers Lord Broughton's 'Travels in Albania' i that contempt gave way to indignation and his wrath found vent in the pages of 'Childe Harold'B
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Byron cared as little for ancient buildings as he did for the authorities or for patriotic enterprise but he was stirred to the quick by the marks of fresh and as he was led to believe wanton injury to Athena's poor remains The southern side of the half wrecked Parthenon had been deprived of its remaining metopes which had suffered far less from the weather than the other sides which are still in the building all that remained of the frieze had been stripped from the three sides of the cella and the eastern pediment had been despoiled of its diminished and mutilated but still splendid group of figures and though five or six years had gone by the blank spaces between the triglyphs must have revealed their recent exposure to the light and the shattered edges of the cornice which here and there had been raised and demolished to permit the dislodgment of the metopes must have caught the eye as they sparkled in the sun Nor had the removal and deportation of friezes and statues come to an end The firman which Dr Hunt the chaplain to the embassy had obtained in which empowered Elgin and his agents to take away 'qualche pezzi di pietra' still ran and Don Tita Lusieri the Italian artist who remained in Elgin's service was still like the 'canes venatici' American smell dogs employed by Verres in Sicily see 'Childe Harold' canto ii st 'note' finding fresh relics and still bewailing to sympathetic travellers the hard fate which compelled him to despoil the temples 'malgr lui' The feelings of the inhabitants themselves were not much in question but their opinions were quoted for and against the removal of the marbles Elgin's secretary and prime agent W R Hamilton testifies from personal knowledge that so far from exciting any unpleasant sensations the people seemed to feel it as the means of bringing foreigners into the country and of having money spent there 'Memoir on the Earl of Elgin's Pursuits in Greece' On the other hand the traveller Edward Daniel Clarke with whom Byron corresponded see 'Childe Harold' canto ii st 'note' speaks of the attachment of the Turks to the Parthenon and their religious veneration for the building as a mosque and tells a pathetic story of the grief of the Disdar when a metope was lowered and the adjacent masonry scattered its white fragments with thundering noise among the ruins 'Travels in Various Countries' part ii sect ii pL
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Other travellers of less authority than Clarke Dodwell for instance who visited the Parthenon before it had been dismantled and afterwards was present at the removal of metopes and Hughes who came after Byron autumn make use of such phrases as shattered desolation wanton devastation and avidity of plunder Even Michaelis the great archaeologist who denounces 'The Curse of Minerva' as a 'libellous' poem and affirms that only blind passion could doubt that Lord Elgin's act was an act of preservation admits that the removal of several metopes and of the statue from the Erechtheion had severely injured the surrounding architecture 'Ancient Marbles in Great Britain' by A Michaelis translated by C A M Fennell p Highly coloured and emotional as some of these phrases may be they explain if they do not justify the 's va indignatio' of Byron's satireF
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It is almost if not quite unnecessary to state the facts on the other side History regards Lord Elgin as a disinterested official who at personal loss at least thirty five thousand pounds on his own showing and in spite of opposition and disparagement secured for his own country and the furtherance of art the perishable fragments of Phidian workmanship which but for his intervention might have perished altogether If they had eluded the clutches of Turkish mason and Greek dealer in antiquities if by some happy chance they had escaped the ravages of war the gradual but gradually increasing assaults of rain and frost would have already left their effacing scars on the Elgin marbles As it is the progress of decay has been arrested and all the world is the gainer Byron was neither a prophet nor an archaeologist and time and knowledge have put him in the wrong But in the gaps in the entablature of the Parthenon were new the Phidian marbles were huddled in a damp dirty penthouse in Park Lane see 'Life of Haydon' i and the logic of events had not justified a sad necessityL
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The Curse Of MinervaJ
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Pallas te hoc Vulnere PallasA
Immolat et poenam scelerato ex Sanguine SumitL
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ATHENS CAPUCHIN CONVENT MarchM
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Slow sinks more lovely ere his race be runH
Along Morea's hills the setting SunH
Not as in northern climes obscurely brightL
But one unclouded blaze of living lightL
O'er the hushed deep the yellow beam he throwsA
Gilds the green wave that trembles as it glowsA
On old gina's rock and Hydra's isleD
The God of gladness sheds his parting smileD
O'er his own regions lingering loves to shineN
Though there his altars are no more divineN
Descending fast the mountain shadows kissA
Thy glorious Gulf unconquered SalamisA
Their azure arches through the long expanseA
More deeply purpled meet his mellowing glanceA
And tenderest tints along their summits drivenH
Mark his gay course and own the hues of HeavenH
Till darkly shaded from the land and deepO
Behind his Delphian rock he sinks to sleepO
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On such an eve his palest beam he castL
When Athens here thy Wisest looked his lastL
How watched thy better sons his farewell rayP
That closed their murdered Sage's latest dayP
Not yet not yet Sol pauses on the hillD
The precious hour of parting lingers stillD
But sad his light to agonizing eyesA
And dark the mountain's once delightful dyesA
Gloom o'er the lovely land he seemed to pourQ
The land where Phoebus never frowned beforeQ
But ere he sunk below Cithaeron's headL
The cup of Woe was quaffed the Spirit fledL
The soul of Him that scorned to fear or flyD
Who lived and died as none can live or dieD
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But lo from high Hymettus to the plainR
The Queen of Night asserts her silent reignR
No murky vapour herald of the stormS
Hides her fair face or girds her glowing formS
With cornice glimmering as the moonbeams playP
There the white column greets her grateful rayP
And bright around with quivering beams besetL
Her emblem sparkles o'er the MinaretL
The groves of olive scattered dark and wideL
Where meek Cephisus sheds his scanty tideL
The cypress saddening by the sacred mosqueT
The gleaming turret of the gay kioskU
And sad and sombre 'mid the holy calmV
Near Theseus' fane yon solitary palmV
All tinged with varied hues arrest the eyeD
And dull were his that passed them heedless byD
Again the gean heard no more afarW
Lulls his chafed breast from elemental warQ
Again his waves in milder tints unfoldL
Their long expanse of sapphire and of goldL
Mixed with the shades of many a distant isleD
That frown where gentler Ocean deigns to smileD
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As thus within the walls of Pallas' faneR
I marked the beauties of the land and mainR
Alone and friendless on the magic shoreQ
Whose arts and arms but live in poets' loreQ
Oft as the matchless dome I turned to scanX
Sacred to Gods but not secure from ManX
The Past returned the Present seemed to ceaseA
And Glory knew no clime beyond her GreeceA
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Hour rolled along and Dian's orb on highD
Had gained the centre of her softest skyD
And yet unwearied still my footsteps trodL
O'er the vain shrine of many a vanished GodL
But chiefly Pallas thine when Hecate's glareY
Checked by thy columns fell more sadly fairY
O'er the chill marble where the startling treadL
Thrills the lone heart like echoes from the deadL
Long had I mused and treasured every traceA
The wreck of Greece recorded of her raceA
When lo a giant form before me strodeL
And Pallas hailed me in her own AbodeL
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Yes 'twas Minerva's self but ah how changedL
Since o'er the Dardan field in arms she rangedL
Not such as erst by her divine commandL
Her form appeared from Phidias' plastic handL
Gone were the terrors of her awful browZ
Her idle gis bore no Gorgon nowZ
Her helm was dinted and the broken lanceA
Seemed weak and shaftless e'en to mortal glanceA
The Olive Branch which still she deigned to claspA2
Shrunk from her touch and withered in her graspA2
And ah though still the brightest of the skyD
Celestial tears bedimmed her large blue eyeD
Round the rent casque her owlet circled slowD
And mourned his mistress with a shriek of woeD
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Mortal 'twas thus she spake that blush of shameK
Proclaims thee Briton once a noble nameK
First of the mighty foremost of the freeL
Now honoured 'less' by all and 'least' by meL
Chief of thy foes shall Pallas still be foundL
Seek'st thou the cause of loathing look aroundL
Lo here despite of war and wasting fireF
I saw successive Tyrannies expireB2
'Scaped from the ravage of the Turk and GothC2
Thy country sends a spoiler worse than bothD2
Survey this vacant violated faneR
Recount the relics torn that yet remainR
'These' Cecrops placed 'this' Pericles adornedL
'That' Adrian reared when drooping Science mournedL
What more I owe let Gratitude attestL
Know Alaric and Elgin did the restL
That all may learn from whence the plunderer cameK
The insulted wall sustains his hated nameK
For Elgin's fame thus grateful Pallas pleadsA
Below his name above behold his deedsA
Be ever hailed with equal honour hereE2
The Gothic monarch and the Pictish peerF2
Arms gave the first his right the last had noneH
But basely stole what less barbarians wonH
So when the Lion quits his fell repastL
Next prowls the Wolf the filthy Jackal lastL
Flesh limbs and blood the former make their ownG
The last poor brute securely gnaws the boneG
Yet still the Gods are just and crimes are crossedL
See here what Elgin won and what he lostL
Another name with his pollutes my shrineN
Behold where Dian's beams disdain to shineN
Some retribution still might Pallas claimK
When Venus half avenged Minerva's shameK
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She ceased awhile and thus I dared replyD
To soothe the vengeance kindling in her eyeD
Daughter of Jove in Britain's injured nameK
A true born Briton may the deed disclaimK
Frown not on England England owns him notL
Athena no thy plunderer was a ScotL
Ask'st thou the difference From fair Phyles' towersA
Survey Boeotia Caledonia's oursA
And well I know within that bastard landL
Hath Wisdom's goddess never held commandL
A barren soil where Nature's germs confinedL
To stern sterility can stint the mindL
Whose thistle well betrays the niggard earthG2
Emblem of all to whom the Land gives birthG2
Each genial influence nurtured to resistL
A land of meanness sophistry and mistL
Each breeze from foggy mount and marshy plainR
Dilutes with drivel every drizzly brainR
Till burst at length each wat'ry head o'erflowsA
Foul as their soil and frigid as their snowsA
Then thousand schemes of petulance and prideL
Despatch her scheming children far and wideL
Some East some West some everywhere but NorthI
In quest of lawless gain they issue forthI
And thus accursed be the day and yearF2
She sent a Pict to play the felon hereE2
Yet Caledonia claims some native worthG2
As dull Boeotia gave a Pindar birthG2
So may her few the lettered and the braveH2
Bound to no clime and victors of the graveH2
Shake off the sordid dust of such a landL
And shine like children of a happier strandL
As once of yore in some obnoxious placeA
Ten names if found had saved a wretched raceA
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Mortal the blue eyed maid resumed once moreQ
Bear back my mandate to thy native shoreQ
Though fallen alas this vengeance yet is mineN
To turn my counsels far from lands like thineN
Hear then in silence Pallas' stern behestL
Hear and believe for Time will tell the restL
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First on the head of him who did this deedL
My curse shall light on him and all his seedL
Without one spark of intellectual fireF
Be all the sons as senseless as the sireF
If one with wit the parent brood disgraceA
Believe him bastard of a brighter raceA
Still with his hireling artists let him prateL
And Folly's praise repay for Wisdom's hateL
Long of their Patron's gusto let them tellD
Whose noblest native gusto is to sellD
To sell and make may shame record the dayL
The State Receiver of his pilfered preyL
Meantime the flattering feeble dotard WestL
Europe's worst dauber and poor Britain's bestL
With palsied hand shall turn each model o'erF
And own himself an infant of fourscoreF
Be all the Bruisers culled from all St Giles'A
That Art and Nature may compare their stylesA
While brawny brutes in stupid wonder stareF
And marvel at his Lordship's 'stone shop' thereF
Round the thronged gate shall sauntering coxcombs creepO
To lounge and lucubrate to prate and peepO
While many a languid maid with longing sighD
On giant statues casts the curious eyeD
The room with transient glance appears to skimI2
Yet marks the mighty back and length of limbI2
Mourns o'er the difference of now and thenJ2
Exclaims 'These Greeks indeed were proper men '-
Draws slight comparisons of 'these' with 'those'A
And envies La s all her Attic beauxA
When shall a modern maid have swains like theseA
Alas Sir Harry is no HerculesA
And last of all amidst the gaping crewF
Some calm spectator as he takes his viewF
In silent indignation mixed with griefK2
Admires the plunder but abhors the thiefK2
Oh loathed in life nor pardoned in the dustL
May Hate pursue his sacrilegious lustL
Linked with the fool that fired the Ephesian domeL2
Shall vengeance follow far beyond the tombM2
And Eratostratus and Elgin shineN
In many a branding page and burning lineN
Alike reserved for aye to stand accursedL
Perchance the second blacker than the firstL
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So let him stand through ages yet unbornN2
Fixed statue on the pedestal of ScornN2
Though not for him alone revenge shall waitL
But fits thy country for her coming fateL
Hers were the deeds that taught her lawless sonH
To do what oft Britannia's self had doneH
Look to the Baltic blazing from afarF
Your old Ally yet mourns perfidious warF
Not to such deeds did Pallas lend her aidL
Or break the compact which herself had madeL
Far from such counsels from the faithless fieldL
She fled but left behind her Gorgon shieldL
A fatal gift that turned your friends to stoneG
And left lost Albion hated and aloneG
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Look to the East where Ganges' swarthy raceA
Shall shake your tyrant empire to its baseA
Lo there Rebellion rears her ghastly headL
And glares the Nemesis of native deadL
Till Indus rolls a deep purpureal floodL
And claims his long arrear of northern bloodL
So may ye perish Pallas when she gaveH2
Your free born rights forbade ye to enslaveH2
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Look on your Spain she clasps the hand she hatesA
But boldly clasps and thrusts you from her gatesA
Bear witness bright Barossa thou canst tellD
Whose were the sons that bravely fought and fellD
But Lusitania kind and dear allyD
Can spare a few to fight and sometimes flyD
Oh glorious field by Famine fiercely wonH
The Gaul retires for once and all is doneH
But when did Pallas teach that one retreatL
Retrieved three long Olympiads of defeatL
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Look last at home ye love not to look thereF
On the grim smile of comfortless despairF
Your city saddens loud though Revel howlsA
Here Famine faints and yonder Rapine prowlsA
See all alike of more or less bereftL
No misers tremble when there's nothing leftL
'Blest paper credit ' who shall dare to singO2
It clogs like lead Corruption's weary wingO2
Yet Pallas pluck'd each Premier by the earF
Who Gods and men alike disdained to hearF
But one repentant o'er a bankrupt stateL
On Pallas calls but calls alas too lateL
Then raves for' ' to that Mentor bendsA
Though he and Pallas never yet were friendsA
Him senates hear whom never yet they heardL
Contemptuous once and now no less absurdL
So once of yore each reasonable frogP2
Swore faith and fealty to his sovereign 'log '-
Thus hailed your rulers their patrician clodL
As Egypt chose an onion for a GodL
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Now fare ye well enjoy your little hourF
Go grasp the shadow of your vanished powerF
Gloss o'er the failure of each fondest schemeQ2
Your strength a name your bloated wealth a dreamQ2
Gone is that Gold the marvel of mankindL
And Pirates barter all that's left behindL
No more the hirelings purchased near and farF
Crowd to the ranks of mercenary warF
The idle merchant on the useless quayL
Droops o'er the bales no bark may bear awayL
Or back returning sees rejected storesA
Rot piecemeal on his own encumbered shoresA
The starved mechanic breaks his rusting loomM2
And desperate mans him 'gainst the coming doomM2
Then in the Senates of your sinking stateL
Show me the man whose counsels may have weightL
Vain is each voice where tones could once commandL
E'en factions cease to charm a factious landL
Yet jarring sects convulse a sister IsleD
And light with maddening hands the mutual pileD
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'Tis done 'tis past since Pallas warns in vainR
The Furies seize her abdicated reignR
Wide o'er the realm they wave their kindling brandsA
And wring her vitals with their fiery handsA
But one convulsive struggle still remainsA
And Gaul shall weep ere Albion wear her chainsA
The bannered pomp of war the glittering filesA
O'er whose gay trappings stern Bellona smilesA
The brazen trump the spirit stirring drumR2
That bid the foe defiance ere they comeR2
The hero bounding at his country's callD
The glorious death that consecrates his fallD
Swell the young heart with visionary charmsA
And bid it antedate the joys of armsA
But know a lesson you may yet be taughtL
With death alone are laurels cheaply boughtL
Not in the conflict Havoc seeks delightL
His day of mercy is the day of fightL
But when the field is fought the battle wonH
Though drenched with gore his woes are but begunH
His deeper deeds as yet ye know by nameK
The slaughtered peasant and the ravished dameK
The rifled mansion and the foe reaped fieldL
Ill suit with souls at home untaught to yieldL
Say with what eye along the distant downS2
Would flying burghers mark the blazing townS2
How view the column of ascending flamesA
Shake his red shadow o'er the startled ThamesA
Nay frown not Albion for the torch was thineN
That lit such pyres from Tagus to the RhineN
Now should they burst on thy devoted coastL
Go ask thy bosom who deserves them mostL
The law of Heaven and Earth is life for lifeT2
And she who raised in vain regrets the strifeT2

George Gordon Byron



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