X. Childe Harold had a mother-not forgot, Though parting from that mother he did shun; If friends he had, he bade adieu to none. Yet deem not thence his breast a breast of steel :1 Ye, who have known what 'tis to dote upon A few dear objects, will in sadness feel Such partings break the heart they fondly hope to heal. XI. His house, his home, his heritage, his lands, [line.3 Without a sigh he left, to cross the brine, And traverse Paynim shores, and pass earth's central XII. The sails were fill'd, and fair the light winds blew, As glad to waft him from his native home; And fast the white rocks faded from his view, And soon were lost in circumambient foam: And then, it may be, of his wish to roam Repented he, but in his bosom slept The silent thought, nor from his lips did come One word of wail, whilst others sate and wept, And to the reckless gales unmanly moaning kept. 1 ["Yet deem him not from this with breast of steel."-MS.] ["His house, his home, his vassals and his lands, The Dalilahs," &c.-MS.] 3 [Lord Byron originally intended to visit India.] XIII. But when the sun was sinking in the sea, He seized his harp, which he at times could string And strike, albeit with untaught melody, When deem'd he no strange ear was listening: And now his fingers o'er it he did fling, And tuned his farewell in the dim twilight. While flew the vessel on her snowy wing, And fleeting shores receded from his sight, Thus to the elements he pour'd his last "Good-night.” 1. "ADIEU, adieu! my native shore Fades o'er the waters blue; The night-winds sigh, the breakers roar, And shrieks the wild sea-mew. Yon sun that sets upon the sea We follow in his flight; 2. "A few short hours and he will rise But not my mother earth. Its hearth is desolate; Wild weeds are gathering on the wall; 3. "Come hither, hither, my little page!2 1 [See Lord Maxwell's "Good Night," in Scott's Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border: Poetical Works, vol. ii. p. 141, ed. 1834"Adieu, madame, my mother dear," &c.] 66 2 [This little page" was Robert Rushton, the son of one of Or dost thou dread the billow's rage, But dash the tear-drop from thine eye; Our fleetest falcon scarce can fly 4. 'Let winds be shrill, let waves roll high, Yet marvel not, Sir Childe, that I Am sorrowful in mind;3 For I have from my father gone, And have no friend, save thee alone, 5. 'My father bless'd me fervently, Yet did not much complain; Lord Byron's tenants. "Robert I take with me," says the poet, in a letter to his mother; "I like him, because, like myself, he seems a friendless animal: tell his father he is well and doing well." ["Our best goshawk can hardly fly 1 કા 2 So merrily along."-MS.] "Oh master dear! I do not cry From fear of wave or wind."-MS.] 3 Seeing that the boy was "sorrowful" at the separation from his parents, Lord Byron, on reaching Gibraltar, sent him back to England under the care of his old servant Joe Murray. "Pray," he says to his mother, "show the lad every kindness, as he is my great favourite." He also wrote a letter to the father of the boy, which leaves a most favourable impression of his thoughtfulness and kindliness. "I have," he says, "sent Robert home, because the country which I am about to travel through is in a state which renders it unsafe, particularly for one so young. I allow you to deduct from your rent five-and-twenty pounds a year for his education, for three years, provided I do not return before that time, and I desire he may be considered as in my service. He has behaved extremely well."] But sorely will my mother sigh 6. "Come hither, hither, my staunch yeoman,2 Or dost thou dread a French foeman? 'Deem'st thou I tremble for my life? Sir Childe, I'm not so weak; 1 [Here follows in the original MS:- I had a sister once, I ween, Whose tears perhaps will flow: 2 [William Fletcher, the faithful valet; who, after a service of twenty years, ("during which," he says, "his Lord was more to him than a father,") received the Pilgrim's last words at Missolonghi, and did not quit his remains, until he had seen them deposited in the family vault at Hucknall. This unsophisticated "yeoman" was a constant source of pleasantry to his master:e. g. "Fletcher," he says in a letter to his mother, "is not valiant; he requires comforts that I can dispense with, and sighs for beer, and beef, and tea, and his wife, and the devil knows what besides. We were one night lost in a thunder-storm, and since, nearly wrecked. In both cases he was sorely bewildered; from apprehensions of famine and banditti in the first, and drowning in the second instance. His eyes were a little hurt by the lightning, or 7. 'My spouse and boys dwell near thy hall, And when they on their father call, 8. "For who would trust the seeming sighs Fresh feres will dry the bright blue eyes We late saw streaming o'er.2 Nor perils gathering near; My greatest grief is that I leave No thing that claims a tear.3 crying I don't know which. I did what I could to console him, but found him incorrigible. He sends six sighs to Sally. I shall settle him in a farm; for he has served me faithfully, and Sally is a good woman.' After all his adventures by flood and field, short commons included, this humble Achates of the poet has now established himself as the keeper of an Italian warehouse, in Charles Street, Berkeley Square, where, if he does not thrive, every one who knows any thing of his character will say he deserves to do so.] 1 2 ["Enough, enough, my yeoman good, All this is well to say; But if I in thy sandals stood, I'd laugh to get away."-MS.] ["For who would trust a paramour, Or e'en a wedded freere, Though her blue eyes were streaming o'er, And torn her yellow hair?"-MS.] 3 ["I leave England without regret-I shall return to it without pleasure. I am like Adam, the first convict sentenced to transportation; but I have no Eve, and have eaten no apple but what was as sour as a crab."-Lord B. to Mr. Hodgson.] |