Still he beheld, nor mingled with the throng;
Put view'd them not with misanthropic hate:
Fain would he now have joined the dance, the song,
But who may smile that sinks beneath his fate?
Nought that he saw his sadness could abate:
Yet once he struggled 'gainst the demon's sway,
And as in Beauty's bower he pensive sate,
Pour'd forth this unpremeditated lay
Adieu, fair Cadiz! yea, a long adieu!
Who may forget how well thy walls have stood
When all were changing thou alone wert true
First to be free and last to be subdued:
And if amidst a scene, a shock so rude,
Some native blood was seen thy streets to dye;
A traitor only fell beneath the feud: 17
Here all were noble, save Nobility;
[harus as fair as those that soothed his happier None hugg'd a conqueror's chain, save faller day.
Through many a clime 'tis mine to gc,
With many a retrospection curst;
And all my solace is to know,
Whate'er betides, I've known the worst.
What is that worst? Nay do not ask-
In pity from the search forbear:
Smile on-nor venture to unmask
Not all the blood at Talavera shed,
Not all the marvels of Barossa's fight,
Not Albuera lavish of the dead,
Have won for Spain her well-asserted right.
When shall her Olive-Branch be free from blight.
When snall she breathe her from the blushing toil.
How many a doubtful day shall sink in night,
Ere the Frank robber turn him from his spoil,
Man's heart, and view the Hell that's there. And Freedom's stranger-tree grow native of the soil
Dim with the mist of years, gray flits the shade of The Bactrian, Samian sage, and all who taught the
IX.
There, thou!-whose love and life together fled,
Have left me here to love and live in vain-
Twined with my heart, and can I deem thee dead]
When busy Memory flashes on my brain?
Well-I will dream that we may meet again,
And woo the vision to my vacant breast;
If aught of young Remembrance then remain,
Be as it may Futurity's behest,
Cold is the heart, fair Greece! that looks on the
Nor feels as lovers o'er the dust they loved:
Dull is the eye that will not weep to see [moved
Thy walls defaced, thy mouldering shrines re
By British hands, which it had best behooved
To guard those relics ne'er to be restored.
Curst be the hour when from their isle they roved,
And once again thy hapless bosom gore!
For me 'twere bliss enough to know thy spirit blest. And snatch'd thy shrinking Gods to northe:: climes
Where was thine Egis, Pallas, that appall'd
Stern Alaric and Havoc on their way?8
Where Peleus' son? whom Hell in vain enthrall'd,
Hs shades from Hades upon that dread day
Bursting to light in terrible array!
What! could not Pluto spare the chief once more,
To scare a second robber from his prey?
Idly he wander'd on the Stygian shore,
But where is Harold? shall I then forget
To urge the gloomy wanderer o'er the wave?
Little reck'd he of all that men regret ;
No loved one now in feign'd lament could rave;
No friend the parting hand extended gave,
Ere the cold stranger pass'd to other climes:
Hard is his heart whom charms may not enslave,
But Harold felt not as in other times,
And left without a sigh the land of war and crimes
He that has sail'd upon the dark blue sea
Has view'd at times, I ween, a full fair sight,
When the fresh breeze is fair as breeze may be,
The white sail set, the gallant frigate tight;
Masts, spires, and strand retiring to the right,
The glorious main expanding o'er the bow,
The convoy spread like wild swans in their flight
The dullest sailer wearing bravely now,
So gaily curl the waves before each dashing prow
And oh, the little warlike world within! The well-reeved guns, the netted canopy," The hoarse command, the busy humming din. When, at a word, the tops are mann'd on high; Hark to the Boatswain's call, the cheering cry! While through the seaman's hand the tackle glides; Or schoolboy Midshipman, that, standing by, Strains his shrill pipe as good or ill betides, And well the docile crew that skilful urchin guides.
White is the glassy deck, without a stain,
Where on the watch the staid Lieutenant walks
Look on that part which sacred doth remain
For the lone chieftain, who majestic stalks,
Silent and fear'd by all-not oft he talks
With aught beneath him, if he would preserve
That strict restraint, which broken, ever balks
Conquest and Fame: but Britons rarely swerve
From law, however stern, which tends their strength
Blow! swiftly blow, thou keel-compelling gale!
Till the broad sun withdraws his lessening ray;
Then must the pennant-bearer slacken sail,
That lagging barks may make their lazy way.
Ah! grievance sore, and listiess dull delay,
To waste on sluggish hulks the sweetest breeze!
What leagues are lost, before the dawn of day,
Thus loitering pensive on the willing seas,
Nor now preserved the walls he loved to shield The flapping sail haul'd down to halt for logs like
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