XXXIV. Not much he kens, ween, of woman's breast, Who thinks that wanton thing is won by sighs; What careth she for hearts when once possess'd? Do proper homage to thine idol's eyes; But not too humbly, or she will despise Thee and thy suit, though told in moving tropes : Disguise ev'n tenderness, if thou art wise; Brisk Confidence still best with woman copes; Pique her and soothe in turn, soon Passion crowns thy hopes. XXXV. 'Tis an old lesson; Time approves it true, Still to the last it rankles, a disease, Not to be cured when Love itself forgets to please. XXXVJ. Away! nor let me loiter in my song, For we have many a mountain-path to tread, To teach man what he might be, or he ought; If that corrupted thing could ever such be taught. XXXVII. Dear nature is the kindest mother still, Though I have mark'd her when none other hath, And sought her more and more, and loved her best in wrath. XXXVIII. Land of Albania! where Iskander rose, Theme of the young, and beacon of the wise, And he his namesake, whose oft-baffled foes Shrunk from his deeds of chivalrous emprize: Land of Albania! 11) let me bend mine eyes On thee, thou rugged nurse of savage men! The cross descends, thy minarets arise, And the pale crescent sparkles in the glen, Through many a cypress grove within each city's ken. Childe Harold sail'd, and pass'd the barren spot 12) That only Heaven to which Earth's children may aspire. XL. 'Twas on a Grecian autumn's gentle eve Mark them unmoved, for he would not delight (Born beneath some remote inglorious star) In themes of bloody fray, or gallant fight, But loathed the bravo's trade, and laughed at martial wight. XLI. But when he saw the evening star above And hail'd the last resort of fruitless love, 14) He felt, or deem'd he felt, no common glow: And as the stately vessel glided slow Beneath the shadow of that ancient mount, He watch'd the billows' melancholy flow, And, sunk albeit in thought as he was wont, More placid seem'd his eye, and smooth his pal lid front. XLII. Morn dawns; and with it stern Albania's hills, Dark Suli's rocks, and Pindus' inland peak, Robed half in mist, bedew'd with snowy rills, Array'd in many a dun and purple streak, Arise; and, as the clouds along them break, Disclose the dwelling of the mountaineer: Here roams the wolf, the eagle whets his beak, Birds, beasts of prey, and wilder men appear, And gathering storms around convulse the closing year. XLIII. Now Harold felt himself at length alone, Peril he sought not, but ne'er shrank to meet : The scene was savage, but the scene was new; This made the ceaseless toil of travel sweet, Beat back keen winter's blast, and welcomed summer's heat. XLIV. Here the red cross. for still the cross is here, Though sadly scoff'd at by the circumcised, Forgets that pride to pamper'd priesthood dear; Churchman and votary alike despised. Foul Superstition! howsoe'er disguised, Idol, saint, virgin, prophet, crescent, cross, For whatsoever symbol thou art prized, Thou sacerdotal gain, but general loss! Who from true worship's gold can separate thy dross? XLV. Ambracia's gulf behold, where once was lost A world for woman, lovely, harmless thing! In yonder rippling bay, their naval host Did many a Roman chief and Asian king 15) To doubtful conflict, certain slaughter bring: Look where the second Caesar's trophies rose!16) Now, like the hands that rear'd them, withering: Imperial anarchs, doubling human woes! GOD! was thy globe ordain'd for such to win and lose? XLVI. From the dark barriers of that rugged clime, Childe Harold pass'd o'er many a mount sublime, Are rarely seen; nor can fair Tempe boast A charm they know not; loved Parnassus fails, Though classic ground and consecrated most, To match some spots that lurk within this lowering coast. XLVII. He pass'd bleak Pindus, Acherusia's lake, 17) And left the primal city of the land, And onwards did his further journey take To greet Albania's chief, 18) whose dread command Is lawless law; for with a bloody hand He sways a nation, turbulent and bold: Yet here and there some daring mountain-band Disdain his power, and from their rocky hold Hurl their defiance far, nor yield, unless to gold.19) XLVIII. Monastic Zitza! 20) from thy shady brow, Rock, river, forest, mountain, all abound, And bluest skies that harmonize the whole: Beneath, the distant torrent's rushing sound Tells where the volumed cataract doth roll Between those hanging rocks, that shock yet please the soul. XLIX. Amidst the grove that crowns yon tufted hill, Which, were it not for many a mountain nigh Rising in lofty ranks, and loftier still, Might well itself be deem'd of dignity, The convent's white walls glisten fair on high: Here dwells the caloyer, 21) nor rude is he, Nor niggard of his cheer; the passer by Is welcome still; nor heedless will he flee From hence, if he delight kind Nature's sheen to see. L. Here in the sultriest season let him rest, Fresh is the green beneath those aged trees; Here winds of gentlest wing will fan his breast, From heaven itself he may inhale the breeze: The plain is far beneath-oh! let him seize Pure pleasure while he can; the scorching ray Here pierceth not, impregnate with disease: Then let his length the loitering pilgrim lay, And gaze, untired, the morn, the noon, the eve away. LI. Dusky and huge, enlarging on the sight, Chimaera's alps extend from left to right: Flocks play, trees wave, streams flow, the mountain-fir Nodding above: behold black Acheron! 23) Pluto! if this be hell I look upon, Close shamed Elysium's gates, my shade shall seek for none ! LII. Ne city's towers pollute the lovely view; |