Turn to the Mole which Hadrian rear'd on high,67 Whose travell'd phantasy from the far Nile's To build for giants, and for his vain earth, His shrunken ashes, raise this dome: How smiles The gazer's eye with philosophic mirth, Thou movest-but increasing with the advance, Sits on the firm-set ground-and this the clouds must claim. CLVII. Thou seest not all; but piecemeal thou must break The glory which at once upon thee did not dart, CLVIII. Not by its fault-but thine: Our outward sense Fools our fond gaze, and greatest of the great To view the huge design which sprung from such a Our spirits to the size of what they contemplate. birth! 62 CLXII. But in his delicate form-a dream of Love, The mind with in its most unearthly mood, CLXIII. And if it be Prometheus stole from Heaven The fire which we endure, it was repaid By him to whom the energy was given Which this poetic marble hath array'd With an eternal glory-which, if made By human hands, is not of human thought; And Time himself hath hallow'd it, nor laid One ringlet in the dust-nor hath it caught A tinge of years, but breathes the flame with which 'twas wrought. CLXIV. But where is he, the Pilgrim of my song, CLXVIII. Scion of chiefs and monarchs, where art thou? In the sad midnight, while thy heart still bled, CLXIX. Peasants bring forth in safety.—Can it be, CLXX. " Of sackcloth was thy wedding garment made; With forms which live and suffer-let that pass-Like stars to shepherd's eyes:-'twas but a meteor His shadow fades away into Destruction's mass, beam'd. CLXXI. Wo unto us, not her; for she sleeps well: CLXXII. These might have been her destiny; but no, Our hearts deny it: and so young, so fair, Good without effort, great without a foe; But now a bride and mother-and now there! How many ties did that stern moment tear! From thy Sire's to his humblest subject's breast Is link'd the electric chain of that despair, Whose shock was as an earthquake's, and oppres The land which loved thee so that none could love thee best. CLXXIII. 70 Lo, Nemi! navell'd in the woody hills And, calm as cherish'd hate, its surface wears CLXXXV. My task is done-my song hath ceased-my theme The spell should break of this protracted dream. CLXXXVI. Farewell! a word that must be, and hath been- He wore his sandal-shoon and scallop-shell; Which in my spirit dwelt is fluttering, faint, and low. If such there were-with you, the moral of his strair NOTES TO CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE. CANTO I. 3. Yes! sigh'd o'er Delphi's long deserted shrine. Stanza i. line 6. Throughout this purple land, where law secures not life. Stanza xxi. line last. THE little village of Castri stands partly on the It is a well known fact, that in the year 1809 the site of Delphi. Along the path of the mountain, assassinations in the streets of Lisbon and its from Chrysso, are the remains of sepulchres hewn vicinity were not confined by the Portuguese to in and from the rock. "One," said the guide, "of their countrymen; but that Englishmen were daily a king who broke his neck hunting." His majesty butchered: and so far from redress being obtained, had certainly chosen the fittest spot for such an we were requested not to interfere if we perceived achievement. any compatriot defending himself against his allies. was once stopped in the way to the theatre at eight o'clock in the evening, when the streets were not more empty than they generally are at that On the other side of Castri stands a Greek hour, opposite to an open shop and in a carriage monastery; some way above which is the cleft in with a friend; had we not fortunately been armed, the rock, with a range of caverns difficult of ascent, I have not the least doubt that we should have and apparently leading to the interior of the moun- adorned a tale instead of telling one. The crime tain; probably to the Corycian Cavern mentioned of assassination is not confined to Portugal; in by Pausahias From this part descend the fountain Sicily and Malta we are knocked on the head at a and the "Dews of Castalie." handsome average nightly, and not a Sicilian or Maltese is ever punished! A little above Castri is a cave, supposed the Pythian, of immense depth; the upper part of it is paved, and now a cow-house. 2. And rest ye at our "Lady's house of wo.' The Convent of "Our Lady of Punishment,' 4. Behold the hall where chiefs were late convened! Nossa Senora de Pena,* on the summit of the rock. The Convention of Cintra was signed in the Below, at some distance, is the Cork Convent, palace of the Marchese Marialva. The late exploits where St. Honorius dug his den, over which is his of Lord Wellington have effaced the follies of epitaph. From the hills, the sea adds to the beauty perhaps changed the character of a nation, recon Cintra. He has, indeed, done wonders; he has of the view. • Since the publication of this poem, I have been informed of the misappre hension of the term Nossa Senora de Pena. It was owing to the want of the tilde, or mark over the n, which alters the signification of the word: with it, Pena signifies a rock; without it, Pena has the sense I adopted. I do not think it necessary to alter the passage, as, though the common acceptation affixed to it is "Our Lady of the Rock," I may well assume the other sense from the severities practised there. ciled rival superstitions, and baffled an enemy who never retreated before his predecessors. 5. Yet Mafra shall one moment claim delay. Stanza xxix. line 1. The extent of Mafra is prodigious; it contains a Ask ye, Baotian shades, the reason why? This was written at Thebes, and consequently in the best situation for asking and answering such a question: not as the birthplace of Pindar, but as the capital of Boeotia, where the first riddle was propounded and solved. 16. When Cava's traitor sire first call'd the band Some bitter o'er the flowers its bubbling venom flings. 8. No! as he speeds, he chants, "Viva el Rey!" Stanza xlviii. line 5. "Viva el Rey Fernando!" Long live King Ferdinand is the chorus of most of the Spanish patriotic songs: they are chiefly in dispraise of the old king Charles, the Queen, and the Prince of Peace. I have heard many of them; some of the airs are beautiful. Godoy, the Principe de la Paz, was born at Badajoz, on the frontiers of Portugal, and was originally in the ranks of the Spanish Guards, till his person attracted the queen's eyes, and raised him to the dukedom of Alcudia, &c. &c.. It is to this man that the Spaniards universally impute the ruin of their country. 17. Luc. The Honorable I*. W**. of the Guards, who died of a fever at Coinbra. I had known him ten years, the better half of his life, and the happiest part of mine. In the short space of one month I had lost her who gave me being, and most of those who had made that being tolerable. To me the lines of Young are no fiction: "Insatiate archer! could not one suffice? Thy shaft flew thrice, and thrice my peace was slain, I should have ventured a verse to the memory of the late Charles Skinner Matthews, Fellow of Downing College, Cambridge, were he not too much above all praise of mine. His powers of mind, shown in the attainment of greater honors, against the ablest candidates, than those of any graduate on record at Cambridge, have sufficiently established his fame on the spot where it was acquired: while his softer qualities live in the recollection of friends who loved him too well te envy his superiority. 13. Oh, thou Parnassus ! CANTO II. 1. Stanza lx. line 1. These stanzas were written in Castri, (Delphos,) at the foot of Parnassus, now called Atakupa—| Liakura. -despite of war and wasting fire Stanza i. line 4. PART of the Acropolis was destroyed by the explosion of a magazine during the Venetian siege. |