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Cold is the heart, fair Greece! that looks on thee,
Nor feels as lovers o'er the dust they loved ;
Dull is the eye that will not weep to see
Thy walls defaced, thy mouldering shrines removed
By British hands, which it had best behoved
To guard those relics ne'er to be restored.
Curst be the hour when from their isle they roved,
And once again thy hapless bosom gored,
And snatched thy shrinking Gods to northern climes abhorn
But where is Harold? shall I then forget
Little recked he of all that men regret;
No loved-one now in feigned lament could rave;
No friend the parting hand extended gave,
Ere the cold stranger passed to other climes :
Hard is his heart whom charms may not enslare;
But Harold felt not as in other times,
And left without a sigh the land of war and crimes.
He that has sailed upon the dark blue sea, i
Has viewed at times, I ween, a full fair sight;
When the fresh breeze is fair as breeze may be,
The white sail set, the gallant frigate tight;
Masts, spires, and strand retiring to the right,
The glorious main expanding o’er the bow,
The convoy spread like wild swans in their flight,
The dullest sailer wearing bravely now,
So gaily curl the waves before each dashing prow.
And oh! the little warlike world within! ..
The well-recved guns, the netted canopy,
The hoarse command, the busy humıning din,
When, at a word, the tops are manned on high :
Hark to the boatswain's call, the cheering cry!
While through the seaman's hand the tackle glides ;
Or school-boy midshipman that, slaiding by,'
Strains his shrill pipe as good or ill betides,
that And well the docile crew that skilful urchin guides. -
White is the glassy deck, without a stain,
Where on the watch the staid lieutenant walks :
Look on that part which sacred doth remain
For the lone chieftain, who majestic stalks,
Silent and feared by all-not oft he talks
With aught beneath him, if he would preserve 1. That strict restraint, which broken, ever balks
Conquest and fame : but Britons rarely swerve
From law, however stern, which tends their strength to nerve.
Blow! swiftly blow, thou keel-compelling gale!
Till the broad sun withdraws his lessening ray;
Then must the pennant-bearer slacken sail,
That lagging barks may make their lazy way.
Ah! grievance sore, and listless dull delay,
To waste on sluggish hulks the sweetest breeze !
What leagues are lost before the dawn of day,
Thus loitering pensive on the willing seas,
The flapping sail hauled down to halt for logs like these!
XXI. The moon is up; by Heaven a lovely eve! Long streams of light o'er dancing waves expand; Now lads on shore may sigh, and maids believe : Such be our fate when we return to land! Meantime some rude Arion's restless hand Wakes the brisk harmony that sailors love; A circle there of merry listeners stand, Or to some well-known measure featly, move, Thoughtless, as if on shore they still were free to rove.
Through Calpe's straits survey the steepy shore ;
Europe and Afric on each other gaze!
Lands of the dark-eyed Maid and dusky Moor
Alike beheld beneath pale Hecate's blaze:
How softly on the Spanish shore she plays,
Disclosing rock, and slope, and forest brown,
Distinct, though darkening with her waning phase ;
But Mauritania's giant-shadows frown,
From mountain-cliff to coast descending sombre down.
Disclosing Touch darkeninows frown, ombre
'Tis night have loved, iho of its bafiled 26d a friend,
'Tis night, when meditation bids us feel
We once have loved, though love is at an end :
The heart, lone mourner of its bafled zeal,
Though friendless now, will dream it had a friend.
Who with the weight of years would wish to bend,
When Youth itself survives young Love and Joy!
Alas! when mingling souls forget 10 blend,
Death bath but liule left him to destroy!
Ah! happy years! once more who would not be a boy?
Thas bending o'er the vessel's laving side,
To gaze on Dian's wave-reflected sphere,
The soul forgets her schemes of hope and pride,
And flies unconscious o’er each backward year.
None are so desolate but something dear,
Dearer than self, possesses or possessed
A thought, and claims the homage of a tear;
A flashing pang! of which the weary breast
Would still, albeit in vain, the heavy heart divest.
To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell,
To slowly trace the forest's shady scene,
Where things that own not man's dominion dwell,
And mortal foot hath ne'er, or rarely been ;
To climb the trackless mountain all unseen,
With the wild flock that never needs a fold;
Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean;
This is not solitude; 'tis but to hold
Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unrolled.
But midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men,
To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess,
And roam along, the world's tired denizen,
With none who bless us, none whom we can bless ;
Minions of splendour shrinking fronı distress!
None that, with kindred conciousness endued,
If we were not, would seem to smile the less
Of all that flattered, followed, sought and sued;
This is to be alone ; this, this is solitude!
More blest the life of godly eremite,
Such as on lonely Athos may be seen,
Watching at eve upon the giant height,
Which looks o'er waves so blue, skies so serene,
That he who there at such an hour hath been,
Will wistful linger on that hallowed spot;
Then slowly tear him from the 'witching scene,
Sigh forth one wish that such had been his lot,
Then turn to hate a world he had alınost forgot.
· XXVIII. Pass we the long, unvarying course, the track : Oft trod, that never leaves a trace behind ; Pass we the calm, the gale, the change, the tack, . And each well known caprice of wave and wind; Pass we the joys and sorrows sailors find, Cooped in their winged sea-girt citadel; The foul, the fair, the contrary, the kind, As breezes rise and fall, and billows swell, Till on some jocund morn-lo, land! and all is well.
XXIX. But not in silence pass Calypso's isles, The sister tenants of the middle deep; There for the weary still a haven smiles, Though the fair goddess long hath ceased to weep, And o'er her cliffs a fruitless watch to keep, For him who dared prefer a mortal bride : Here, too, his boy essayed the dreadful leap.
Stern Mentor urged from high to yonder tide ; While thus of both bereft, the nymph-queen doubly sighed.