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CL.

CLVI. But here youth offers to old age the food,

Thou movest-but increasing with the advance, The milk of his own gift :-it is her sire

Like climbing some greatAip, which still doth rise, To whom she renders back the debt of blood Deceived by its gigantic alegance Born with her birth. No; he shall not expire Vastness which grows-but grows to harmonizeWhile in those warm and lovely veins the fire

All musical in its imensities ;

[flame Of health and holy feeling can provide [higher Rich marbles-rieher painting-shrines where Great Nature's Nile, whose deep stream rises The lamps of gold—and hanghty dome which vies

Than Egypt's river :—from that gentle side In air with Earth's chief structure, though their Drink, drink and live, old man! Heaven's realm

frame holds no such tide.

Sits on the firm-set ground—and this the clouds

must claim. CLI.

CLVII. The starry fable of the milky way

Thou seest not all; but piecemeal thou must break Has not thy story's purity; it is

To seperate contemplation, the.great whole; A constellation or a sweeter ray,

And as the ocean many bays will make, And sacred Nature triumphs more in this

That ask the eye-so here condense thy soul Reverse of her decree, than in the abyss

To more immediate objects, and control Where sparkle distant worlds :-Oh, holiest nurse! Thy thoughts until thy mind hath got by heart No drop of that clear stream its way shall miss

Its eloquent proportions, and unroll To thy sire's heart, replenishing its source In mighty graduations, part by part, With life, as our freed souls rejoin the universe.

The glory which at once upon thee did not dart, CLII.

CLVIII. Turn to the Mole which Hadrian rear'd on high,67 Not by its fault-but thine: Our outward sense Imperial mimic of old Egypt's piles,

Is but of gradual grasp—and as it is Colossal copyist of deformity,

That what we have of feeling most intenre Whose travell’d phantasy from the far Nile's

Outstrips our faint expression; even so this Enormous model, doom'd the artist's toils

Outshining and o'erwhelming edifice To build for giants, and for his vain earth, Fools our fond gaze, and greatest of the great His shrunken ashes, raise this dome: How smiles

Defies at first our Nature's littleness, The gazer's eye with philosophic mirth,

Till, growing with its growth, we thus dilate To view the huge design which sprung from such a Our spirits to the size of what they contemplate. birth! CLIII.

CLIX. But lo!-the dome—the vast and wondrous dome,68 Then pause, and be enlightened; there is more To which Diana's marvel was a cell

In such a survey than the sating gaze Christ's mighty shrine above his martyr's tomb! Of wonder pleased, or awe which would adore I have beheld the Ephesian's miracle

The worship of the place, or the mere praise Its columns strew the wilderness, and a fell Of art and its great masters, who could raise The hyena and the jackall in their shade; What former time, nor skill, nor thought could I have beheld Sophia's bright roofs swell

The fountain of sublimity displays [plan: Their glittering mass i' the sun, and have survey'd Its depth, and thence may draw the mind of man Its sanctuary the while the usurping Moslem pray'd; Its golden sands, and learn what great conceptions

can. CLIV.

CLX. But thou, of temples old, or altars new,

Or, turning to the Vatican, go see Standest alone-with nothing like to thee- Laoccoon's torture dignifying painWorthiest of God, the holy and the true,

A father's love and mortal's agony Since Zion's desolation, when that He

With an immortal's patience blending :-Vain Forsook his former city, what could be,

The struggle; vain, against the coiling strain of earthly structures, in his honor piled,

And gripe, and deepening of the dragon's grasp, Of a sublimer aspect? Majesty,

The old man's clench; the long envenomed chair
Power, Glory, Strength, and Beauty, all are aisled Rivets the living links,-the' enormous asp
In this eternal ark of worship undefiled. Enforces pang on pang, and stifles gasp on gasp.
CLV.

CLXI.
Enter: its grandeur overwhelms thee not; Or view the Lord of the unerring bow,
And why? it is not lessen'd; but thy mind, The God of life, and poesy, and light-
Expanded by the genius of the spot,

The Sun in human limbs array'd, and brow
Has grown colossal, and can only find

All radiant from his triumph in the fight; A fit abode wherein appear enshrined

The shaft hath just been shot—the arrow bright Thy hopes of immortality; and thou

With an immortal's vengeance; in his eye Shalt one day, if found worthy, so defined, And nostril beautiful disdain, and might,

See thy God face to face, as thou dost now And majesty, flash their full lightnings by His Holy of Holies, nor be blasted by his brow. Developing in that one glance the Deity

llo

-, 62

BYRON'S WORKS.
CLXII.

CLXVIII.

Scion of chiefs and monarchs, where art thou ? Shaped by some solitary nymph, whose breast Fond hope of many nations, art thou dead? Long'd for a deathless lover from above,

Could not the grave forget thee, and lay low
And madden'd in that visionaro ex prest Some less majestic, less beloved head ?
Al that ideal beauty ever bless'd

In the sad midnight, while thy heart still bled,
The mind with in its most unearthly mood, The mother of a moment, o'er thy boy,
When each conception was a heavenly guest Death hush'd that pang for ever; with thee fied
A ray of immortality-and stood,

The present happiness and promised joy Starlike, around, until they gather'd to a god! Which fill’d the imperial isles so full it seem'd to cloy

Plout

CLXIII.

CLXIX.
And if it be Prometheus stole from Heaven Peasants bring forth in safety.-Can it be,
The fire which we endure, it was repaid

Oh thou that wert so happy, so adored!
By him to whom the energy was given

Those who weep not for kings shall weep for thee, Which this poetic marble hath array'd

And Freedom's heart, grown heavy, cease to hoard With an eternal glory--which, if made

Her many griefs for One; for she had pour'd By human hands, is not of human thought; Her orisons for thee, and o'er thy head And Time himself hath hallow'd it, nor laid Beheld her Iris.-Thou, too, lonely lord,

One ringlet in the dust-nor hath it caught And desolate consort-vainly wert thou wed! A tinge of years, but breathes the flame with which The husband of a year! the father of thc dead! 'twas wrought.

CLXX.
CLXIV.

Of sackcloth was thy wedding garment made;
But where is he, the Pilgrim of my song, Thy bridal's fruit is ashes: in the dust
The being who upheld it through the past?

The fair-hair'd Daughter of the Isles is laid, Methinks he cometh late and tarries long.

The love of millions! How we did intrust He is no more-these breathings are his last,

Futurity to her! and, though it must His wanderings done, his visions ebbing fast,

Darken above our bones, yet fondly deem'd And he himself as nothing :-if he was

Our children should obey her child, and bless'd Aught but a phantasy, and could be class'd With forms which live and suffer-let that pass-- Like stars to shepherd's eyes :-'twas but a meteor

Her and her hoped-for seed, whose promise seem'd His shadow fades away into Destruction’s mass,

beam'd.

CLXXI.
CLXV.
Which gathers shadow, substance, life, and all

Wo unto us, not her; for she sleeps well:
That we inherit in its mortal shroud,

The fickle reek of popular breath, the tongue

[cloud And spreads the dim and universal pall

Of hollow counsel, the false oracle,

Which from the birth of manarchy hath rung Through which all things grow phantoms; and the Between us sinks and all which ever glow'd,

Its knell in princely ears, till the o'erstung Till Glory's self is twilight, and displays

Nations have arm'd in madness, the strange fate

Which stumbles mightiest sovereigns, and hath A melancholy halo scarce allow'd To hover on the verge of darkness; rays

Against thair blind omnipotence a weight (flung Sadder than saddest night, for they distract the gaze,

Within the opposing scale, which crushes soon or

late, CLXVI.

CLXXII. And send us prying into the abyss

These might have been her destiny; but no, To gather what we shall be when the frame Our hearts deny it: and so young, so fair, Shall be resolved to something less than this

Good without effort, great without a foc; Its wretched essence; and to dream of fame,

But now a bride and mother-and now there! And to wipe the dust from off the idle name

How many ties did that stern moment tear! We rever more shall hear,—but never more,

From thy Sire's to his humblest subject's breast Oh, happier thought! can we be made the same:

Is link'd the electric chain of that despair, It is enough in sooth that once we bore

Whose shock was as an earthquake's, and oppress These fardels of the heart-the heart whose sweat The land which loved thee so that none could love was gore.

thee best.
CLXVII.

CLXXIII.
Hark! forth from the abyss a voice proceeds, 70 Lo, Nemi! navell'd in the woody hills
A long low distant murmur of dread sound, So far, that the uprooting wind which tears
Such as arises when a nation bleeds

The oak from his foundation, and which spills
With some deep and immedicable wound; (ground, The ocean o'er its boundary, and bears
Through storm and darkness yawns the rending Its foam against the skies, reluctant spares
The gulf is thick with phantoms, but the chief The oval mirror of thy glassy lake;
Seems royal still, though with her head discrow'd, And, calm as cherish'd hate, its surface wears
And pale, but lovely, with maternal grief

A deep cold settled aspect nought can shake, She clasps a babe to whom her breast yields no relief. All coil'd into itself and round, as sleeps the snake

1

orion

CLXXIV.

The wrecks are all thy dced, nor doth remain

A shadow of man’s ravage, save his own,
And near Albano's scarce divided waves

When, for a moment, like a drop of rain,
Shine from a sister valley ;-and afar

He sinks into thy depths with bublling groan,
The Tiber winds, and the broad ocean laves

Without a grave, unknelld, uncotin'd, and un-
The Latian coast where sprang the Epic war,

known.
Arms and the Man," whose reascending star
Rose o'er an empire :--but beneath thy right

CLXXX.
Tully reposed from Rome;—and where yon bar
Of girdling mountains intercepts the sight, His steps are not upon thy paths,--thy fields
The Sabine farin was till'd, the weary bards delight.71 Are not a spoil for him,—thou dost arise (wields

And shake him from thee: the vile strength he

For earth's destruction thou dost all despise, CLXXV.

Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies,

And send'st him, shivering in thy playful spray But I forget.--My Pilgrim's shrine is won,

And howling, to his Gods, where haply lies
And he and I must part,--so let it be,-

His petty hope in some near port or bay,
His task and mine alike are nearly done;
Yet once more let us look upon the sea;

And dashest him again to earth:-there let him lay.
The midland occan breaks on him and me,
And from the Alban Mount we now behold

CLXXXI.
Our friend of youth, that occan, which when we
Beheld it last by Calpe's rock unfold

The armaments which thunderstrike the walls
Those waves, we follow'd on till the dark Euxine

Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake, rollid

And monarchs tremble in their capitals,

The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make
CLXXVI.

Their clay creator the rain title take
Upon the blue Symplegades : long years,

Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war:
Long, though not very many, since have done

These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake,
Their work on both; some suffering and some tears

They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar

Alike the Armada's pride, or spoils of Trafalgar.
Have left us nearly where we had begun:
Yet not in vain our moral race hath run,
We have had our reward-and it is here:

CLXXXII.
That we can yet feel gladden'd by the sun,
And reap from earth, sea, joy almost as dear

Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee
As if there were no man to trouble what is clear.

Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they?

Thy waters wasted them while they were free, CLXXVII.

And many a tyrant since; their shores obey

The stranger, slave, or savage; their decay
Oh! that the desert were my dwelling-place,

Has dried up realms to deserts :-not so thou,
With one fair Spirit for my minister,

Unchangcable sare to thy wild waves' play-
That I might all forget the human race,

Time writes no wrinkle on thy azure brow-
And, hating no one, love but only her!

Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.
Ye Elements !-in whose ennobling stir
I feel myself exalted-Can ye not
Accord me such a being ? Do I err

CLXXXIII.
In deeming such inhabit many a spot?

Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form
Though with them to converse can rarely be our lot.

Glasses itself in tempests: in all time,

Calm or convulsed-in breeze, or gale, or storm, CLXXVIII.

Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime

Dark-heaving ;-boundless, endless, and sublime
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, The image of Eternity-the throne
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,

or the Invisible; even from out thy slime
There is society, where none intrudes,

The monsters of the deep are made; each zone
By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: Obeys thce; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless
I love not Man the less, but Nature' more,

alone.
From these our interviews, in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before,

CLXXXIV.
To mingle with the Universe, and feel

And I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy
What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal.

Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be

Borne, like thy bubbles, onward: from a boy CLXXIX.

I wanton'd with thy breakers--they to me

Were a delight; and if the freshening sea
Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean-roll! Made them a terror—'twas a pleasing fear,
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain; For I was as it were a child of thee,
Man marks the earth with ruin-his control And trusted to thy billows far and ncar,
Stops with the shore ;-upon the watery plain And laid my hand upon thy mane-as I do here.

CLXXXV.

CLXXXVI. My task is done-my song hath ceased—my theme Farewell ! a word that must be, and hath beenHas died into an echo; it is fit

A sound which makes us linger ;--yet-farewell.
The spell should break of this protracted dream. Ye! who have traced the Pilgrim to the scene
The torch shall be extinguish'd which hath lit Which is his last, if in your memories dwell
My midnight lamp-and what is writ, is writ, A thought which once was his, if on ye swell
Would it were worthier! but I am not now

A single recollection, not in vain
That which I have been—and my visions flit He wore his sandal-shoon and scallop-shell;
Less palpably before me and the glow

Farewell! with him alone may rest the pain, 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.

& Yes! sigh'd o'er Delphi's long deserted shrine. Throughout this purple land, where law secures not

Stanza i. line 6.

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 wete 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. A little above Castri is a cave, supposed the I was once stopped in the way to the theatre at Pythian, of immense depth; the upper part of it is eight o'clock in the evening, when the streets were paved, and now a cow-houge.

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 lcading to the interior of the moun anorned a tale instead of telling one. The crime tain; probably to the Corycian Cavern mentiones ssassination is not confined to Portugal; in by Pausahias From this part descend the fountai and Malta we are knocked on the head at a and the “ Dews of Castalie."

dsome average nightly, and not a Sicilian or

Maltese is ever punished ! 2.

4. And rest ye at our Lady's house of wo."

Behold the hall where chiefs were lote convened! Stanza xx. line 4.

Stanza xxiv. line l. The Convent of “Our Lady of Punishment,"'

The Convention of Cintra was signed in the Nossa Senora de Pena,* on the summit of the rock. 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.

ciled rival superstitions, End basiled an enemy who

never retreated before his predecessors. • Since the publication of this poem, I have been informed of the misapprehersion of the term Nossa Senora de Pena. It was owing to the want of the filde, or mark over the n, which alters the rignification of the word : with

5. it, Pens siguities a ruck; without it, Pena has the sense I adopted. I do not Yet Mafra shall one moment claim delay. Link it noo's3nry to alur the passags, as, though the cominon acceptation

Stanza xxix. line 1. affixed to it is " Our Lady of the Rock," I say well waume the other sense from the reverities practised there.

The extent of Mafra is prodigious; it contains a

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19.

palace, content, and most superb church. The six

14. organs are the most beautiful I ever beheld, in

Fair is proud Seville; let her country boast point of decorations; we did not hear them, but

Her strength, her wealth, her site of ancient days. were told that their tones were correspondent to

Stanza lxv. lines 1 and 2. their splendor. Mafra is termed the Escurial of Portugal.

Seville was the Hispalis of the Romans.
6.

15.
Well doth the Spanish hind the difference know
'Twixt him and Lusian slave, the lowest of the lowo.

Ask ye, Baotian shades, the reason why?
Stanza xxxiii. lines 8 and 9.

Stanza lxx. line 5.
As I found the Portuguese, so I have characterized

This was written at Thebes, and consequently in them. That they are since improved, at least in the best situation for asking and answering such a

question : not as the birthplace of Pindar, but as courage, is evident.

the capital of Baotia, where the first riddle was 7.

propounded and solved.
When Cava's traitor sire first call'd the band

16.
That dyed thy mountain streams with Gothic gore.
Stanza xxxy. lines 3 and 4.

Some bitter o'er the flowers its bubbling venom flings.
Count Julian's daughter, the Helen of Spain.

Stanza lxxxii. line last. Pelagius preserved his independence in the fast

"Medio de fonte leporum nesses of the Asturias, and the descendants of his Surgit amari aliquid quod in ipsis floribus angat.” followers, after some centuries, completed their

Luo. struggle by the conquest of Grenada

17.

A traitor only fell beneath the feud. 8.

Stanza lxxxv. line 7. No! as he speeds, he chants, Vivi el Rey!" Alluding to the conduct and death of Solano,

Stanza xlviii. line 5. the Governor of Cadiz.
“Viva el Rey Fernando !" Long live King Fer-

18.
dinand! is the chorus of most of the Spanish
patriotic songs: they are chiefly in dispraise of the

War even to the knife !
old king Charles, the Queen, and the Prince of

Stanza lxxxvi. line iast.
Peace. I have heard many of them; some of the « War to the knife." Palafox's answer to the
airs are beautiful. Godoy, the Principe de la Paz, French general at the siege of Saragoza.
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.

And thou, my friend ! &c.
It is to this man that the Spaniards universally

Stanza xci. line 1. impute the ruin of their country.

The Honorable I". W**. of the Guards, who

died of a fever at Coinbra. I had known him ten 9.

years, the better half of his life, and the happiest

part of mine, Bears in his cap the badge of crimson hue, Which tells you whom to shun and whom to greet. who gave me being, and most of those who had

In the short space of one month I had lost her Stanza 1. lines 2 and 3.

made that being tolerable. To me the lines of The red cockade, with “Fernando Septimo" in Young are no fiction : the centre.

* Insatiate archer! could not one suffice? 10.

Thy shaft flew thrice, and thrice my peace was slain,
The ball-piled pyramid, the erer-blazing match. And thrice ere thrice yon moon had filled her horn.”

Stanza li. line last.
All who have seen a battery will recollect the

I should have ventured a verse to the memory of pyramidal form in which shot and shells are piled. the late Charles Skinner Matthews, Fellow of The Sierra Morena was fortified in every defile Downing College, Cambridge, were he not too through which I passed in my way to Seville. much above all praise of mine. His powers of

mind, shown in the attainment of greater honors, 11.

against the ablest candidates, than those of any

graduate on record at Cambridge, have sufficiently Foild by a woman's hand, before a batterid wall

Stanza lvi. linc last.

established his fame on the spot where it was

acquired: while his softer qualities live in the
Such were the exploits of the Maid of Saragoza. recollection of friends who loved him too well te
When the author was at Seville she walked daily envy his superiority.
on the Prado, decorated with medals and orders, by
command of the Junta.

12.
The seal Love's dimpling finger hath impress'd
Denotes how soft that chin which bears his touch.

Stanza lviii, lines 1 and 2.
“Sigilla in mento impressa Amoris digitulo
Vestigio demonstrani mollitudinem." AUL. GEL.

CANTO II.
13.

1.
Oh, thou Parnassus !

Stanza lx. line 1. despite of war and wasting fire
These stanzas were written in Castri, (Delphos,)

Stanza i. line 4.
at the foot of Parnassus, now called Alakupa- Part of the Acropolis was destroyed by the
Liakura.

explosion of a nagazine during the Venetian siege.

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