Ah me! in sooth he was a shameless wight, Few earthly things found favour in his sight And flaunting wassailers of high and low degree. 20 Childe Harold was he hight:-but whence his name Nor all that heralds rake from coffin'd clay, Childe Harold bask'd him in the noontide sun, 30 Then loathed he in his native land to dwell, Which seem'd to him more lone than Eremite's sad cell. For he through Sin's long labyrinth had run, And now Childe Harold was sore sick at heart, 40 Apart he stalk'd in joyless reverie, And from his native land resolved to go, And visit scorching climes beyond the sea; 50 With pleasure drugg'd, he almost long'd for woe, And e'en for change of scene would seek the shades below. The Childe departed from his father's hall: So old, it seemed only not to fall, Yet strength was pillar'd in each massy aisle. Monastic dome! condemn'd to uses vile ! Where Superstition once had made her den Now Paphian girls were known to sing and smile And monks might deem their time was come agen, If ancient tales say true, nor wrong these holy men. ; бо Yet oft-times in his maddest mirthful mood Strange pangs would flash along Childe Harold's brow, As if the memory of some deadly feud Or disappointed passion lurk'd below: But this none knew, nor haply cared to know; 70 Whate'er this grief mote be, which he could not control. And none did love him: though to hall and bower Yea! none did love him-not his lemans dear- 80 Childe Harold had a mother-not forgot, If friends he had, he bade adieu to none. Yet deem not thence his breast a breast of steel: A few dear objects, will in sadness feel Such partings break the heart they fondly hope to heal. 91 His house, his home, his heritage, his lands, His goblets brimm'd with every costly wine, Without a sigh he left, to cross the brine, And traverse Paynim shores, and pass Earth's central line. CHILDE HAROLD'S DEPARTURE 1 ADIEU, adieu! my native shore The night-winds sigh, the breakers roar, Yon sun that sets upon the sea 2 A few short hours and he will rise And I shall hail the main and skies, ΤΟ Deserted is my own good hall, Its hearth is desolate; Wild weeds are gathering on the wall; 3 "Come hither, hither, my little page! But dash the tear-drop from thine eye; Our fleetest falcon scarce can fly 4 "Let winds be shrill, let waves roll high, I fear not wave nor wind: Yet marvel not, Sir Childe, that I Am sorrowful in mind; For I have from my father gone, A mother whom I love, And have no friend, save these alone, "Come hither, hither, my staunch yeoman, Why dost thou look so pale? Or dost thou dread a French foeman ? Or shiver at the gale ? "- 20 30 40 "Deem'st thou I tremble for my life? Sir Childe, I'm not so weak; But thinking on an absent wife Will blanch a faithful cheek. 7 "My spouse and boys dwell near thy hall, Along the bordering lake, And when they on their father call, 66 But I, who am of lighter mood, 8 For who would trust the seeming sighs Fresh feeres will dry the bright blue For pleasures past I do not grieve, My greatest grief is that I leave 9 And now I'm in the world alone, But why should I for others groan, Till fed by stranger hands; But long ere I come back again He'd tear me where he stands. 10 With thee, my bark, I'll swiftly go 50 eyes 60 Nor care what land thou bear'st me to, 70 |