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+Project Gutenberg's The Works Of Lord Byron, Vol. 3 (of 7), by Lord Byron
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Works Of Lord Byron, Vol. 3 (of 7)
+
+Author: Lord Byron
+
+Editor: Ernest Hartley Coleridge
+
+Release Date: June 12, 2007 [EBook #21811]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WORKS OF LORD BYRON ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Jonathan Ingram, David Cortesi and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES
+
+This etext contains only characters from the Latin-1 set. The original
+work contained a few phrases of Greek text. These are represented here
+as Beta-code transliterations in brackets, e.g. [Greek: misêto\n].
+
+The original text used a few other characters not found in the Latin-1
+set. These have been represented using bracket notation, as follows:
+[=a], [=i] for letters with a macron, and ['c] for c with accent. In a
+few places superscript letters are shown by carets, as in Oct^r. 11.
+
+An important feature of this edition is its copious footnotes. Footnotes
+indexed with letters (e.g. [c], [bf]) show variant forms of Byron's text
+from manuscripts and other sources. Footnotes indexed with arabic
+numbers (e.g. [17], [221]) are informational. Text in notes and
+elsewhere in square brackets is the work of Editor E. H. Coleridge. Note
+text not in brackets is by Byron himself.
+
+In the original, footnotes are printed at the foot of the page on which
+they are referenced, and their indices start over on each page. In this
+etext, footnotes have been collected at the end of each section, and
+have been numbered consecutively throughout the book. Within each block
+of footnotes are numbers in braces, e.g. {321}. These represent the page
+number on which the following notes originally appeared. To find a note
+that was originally printed on page 27, search for {27}.
+
+In note [ci] to _The Giaour_ and in the section headed "NOTE TO _THE
+BRIDE OF ABYDOS_" the editor showed deleted text struck through with
+lines. The struck-through words are noted here with braces and dashes,
+as in {-deleted words-}.
+
+
+
+
+ The Works
+
+ of
+
+ LORD BYRON.
+
+
+ A NEW, REVISED AND ENLARGED EDITION,
+
+ WITH ILLUSTRATIONS.
+
+
+ Poetry. Vol. III.
+
+
+ EDITED BY
+
+ ERNEST HARTLEY COLERIDGE, M.A., HON. F.R.S.L.
+
+
+ LONDON:
+
+ JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET.
+
+ NEW YORK: CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS.
+
+ 1900.
+
+
+
+
+ PREFACE TO THE THIRD VOLUME.
+
+
+The present volume contains the six metrical tales which were composed
+within the years 1812 and 1815, the _Hebrew Melodies_, and the minor
+poems of 1809-1816. With the exception of the first fifteen poems
+(1809-1811)--_Chansons de Voyage_, as they might be called--the volume
+as a whole was produced on English soil. Beginning with the _Giaour_;
+which followed in the wake of _Childe Harold_ and shared its triumph,
+and ending with the ill-omened _Domestic Pieces_, or _Poems of the
+Separation_, the poems which Byron wrote in his own country synchronize
+with his popularity as a poet by the acclaim and suffrages of his own
+countrymen. His greatest work, by which his lasting fame has been
+established, and by which his relative merits as a great poet will be
+judged in the future, was yet to come; but the work which made his name,
+which is stamped with his sign-manual, and which has come to be regarded
+as distinctively and characteristically Byronic, preceded maturity and
+achievement.
+
+No poet of his own or other times, not Walter Scott, not Tennyson, not
+Mr. Kipling, was ever in his own lifetime so widely, so amazingly
+popular. Thousands of copies of the "Tales"--of the _Bride of Abydos_,
+of the _Corsair_, of _Lara_--were sold in a day, and edition followed
+edition month in and month out. Everywhere men talked about the "noble
+author"--in the capitals of Europe, in literary circles in the United
+States, in the East Indies. He was "the glass of fashion ... the
+observ'd of all observers," the swayer of sentiment, the master and
+creator of popular emotion. No other English poet before or since has
+divided men's attention with generals and sea-captains and statesmen,
+has attracted and fascinated and overcome the world so entirely and
+potently as Lord Byron.
+
+It was _Childe Harold_, the unfinished, immature _Childe Harold_, and
+the Turkish and other "Tales," which raised this sudden and deafening
+storm of applause when the century was young, and now, at its close (I
+refer, of course, to the Tales, not to Byron's poetry as a whole, which,
+in spite of the critics, has held and still holds its own), are ignored
+if not forgotten, passed over if not despised--which but few know
+thoroughly, and "very few" are found to admire or to love. _Ubi lapsus,
+quid feci?_ might the questioning spirit of the author exclaim with
+regard to his "Harrys and Larrys, Pilgrims and Pirates," who once held
+the field, and now seem to have gone under in the struggle for poetical
+existence!
+
+To what, then, may we attribute the passing away of interest and
+enthusiasm? To the caprice of fashion, to an insistence on a more
+faultless _technique_, to a nicer taste in ethical sentiment, to a
+preference for a subtler treatment of loftier themes? More certainly,
+and more particularly, I think, to the blurring of outline and the
+blotting out of detail due to lapse of time and the shifting of the
+intellectual standpoint.
+
+However much the charm of novelty and the contagion of enthusiasm may
+have contributed to the success of the Turkish and other Tales, it is in
+the last degree improbable that our grandfathers and great-grandfathers
+were enamoured, not of a reality, but of an illusion born of ignorance
+or of vulgar bewilderment. They were carried away because they breathed
+the same atmosphere as the singer; and being undistracted by ethical, or
+grammatical, or metrical offences, they not only read these poems with
+avidity, but understood enough of what they read to be touched by their
+vitality, to realize their verisimilitude.
+
+_Tout comprendre c'est tout pardonner._ Nay, more, the knowledge, the
+comprehension of essential greatness in art, in nature, or in man is not
+to know that there is aught to forgive. But that sufficing knowledge
+which the reader of average intelligence brings with him for the
+comprehension and appreciation of contemporary literature has to be
+bought at the price of close attention and patient study when the
+subject-matter of a poem and the modes and movements of the poet's
+consciousness are alike unfamiliar.
+
+Criticism, however subtle, however suggestive, however luminous, will
+not bridge over the gap between the past and the present, will not
+supply the sufficing knowledge. It is delightful and interesting and, in
+a measure, instructive to know what great poets of his own time and of
+ours have thought of Byron, how he "strikes" them; but unless we are
+ourselves saturated with his thought and style, unless we learn to
+breathe his atmosphere by reading the books which he read, picturing to
+ourselves the scenes which he saw,--unless we aspire to his ideals and
+suffer his limitations, we are in no way entitled to judge his poems,
+whether they be good or bad.
+
+Byron's metrical "Tales" come before us in the guise of light reading,
+and may be "easily criticized" as melo-dramatic--the heroines
+conventional puppets, the heroes reduplicated reflections of the
+author's personality, the Oriental "properties" loosely arranged, and
+somewhat stage-worn. A thorough and sympathetic study of these once
+extravagantly lauded and now belittled poems will not, perhaps, reverse
+the deliberate judgment of later generations, but it will display them
+for what they are, bold and rapid and yet exact presentations of the
+"gorgeous East," vivid and fresh from the hand of the great artist who
+conceived them out of the abundance of memory and observation, and
+wrought them into shape with the "pen of a ready writer." They will be
+once more recognized as works of genius, an integral portion of our
+literary inheritance, which has its proper value, and will repay a more
+assiduous and a finer husbandry.
+
+I have once more to acknowledge the generous assistance of the officials
+of the British Museum, and, more especially, of Mr. A. G. Ellis, of the
+Oriental Printed Books and MSS. Department, who has afforded me
+invaluable instruction in the compilation of the notes to the _Giaour_
+and _Bride of Abydos_.
+
+I have also to thank Mr. R. L. Binyon, of the Department of Prints and
+Drawings, for advice and assistance in the selection of illustrations.
+
+I desire to express my cordial thanks to the Registrar of the Copyright
+Office, Stationers' Hall; to Professor Jannaris, of the University of
+St. Andrews; to Miss E. Dawes, M.A., D.L., of Heathfield Lodge,
+Weybridge; to my cousin, Miss Edith Coleridge, of Goodrest, Torquay; and
+to my friend, Mr. Frank E. Taylor, of Chertsey, for information kindly
+supplied during the progress of the work.
+
+For many of the "parallel passages" from the works of other poets, which
+are to be found in the notes, I am indebted to a series of articles by
+A. A. Watts, in the _Literary Gazette,_ February and March, 1821; and to
+the notes to the late Professor E. Kolbing's _Siege of Corinth._
+
+On behalf of the publisher, I beg to acknowledge the kindness of Lord
+Glenesk, and of Sir Theodore Martin, K.C.B., who have permitted the
+examination and collation of MSS. of the _Siege of Corinth_ and of the
+"Thyrza" poems, in their possession.
+
+The original of the miniature of H.R.H. the Princess Charlotte of Wales
+(see p. 44) is in the Library of Windsor Castle. It has been reproduced
+for this volume by the gracious permission of Her Majesty the Queen.
+
+ ERNEST HARTLEY COLERIDGE.
+
+_April_ 18, 1900.
+
+
+
+
+ CONTENTS OF VOL. III.
+
+
+Preface to Vol. III. of the Poems v
+
+Introduction to _Occasional Pieces_ (_Poems_ 1809-1813;
+_Poems_ 1814-1816) xix
+
+ Poems 1809-1813.
+
+The Girl of Cadiz. First published in _Works of Lord Byron,
+1832_, viii. 56 1
+
+Lines written in an Album, at Malta. First published,
+_Childe Harold_, 1812 (4to) 4
+
+To Florence. First published, _Childe Harold_, 1812 (4to) 5
+
+Stanzas composed during a Thunderstorm. First published,
+_Childe Harold_, 1812 (4to) 7
+
+Stanzas written in passing the Ambracian Gulf. First
+published, _Childe Harold_, 1812 (4to) 11
+
+The Spell is broke, the Charm is flown! First published,
+_Childe Harold_, 1812 (4to) 12
+
+Written after swimming from Sestos to Abydos. First
+published, _Childe Harold_, 1812 (4to) 13
+
+Lines in the Travellers' Book at Orchomenus. First
+published, _Travels in Italy, Greece, etc._, by H. W.
+Williams, 1820, ii. 290 15
+
+Maid of Athens, ere we part. First published, _Childe
+Harold_, 1812 (4to) 15
+
+Fragment from the "Monk of Athos." First published, _Life of
+Lord Byron_, by the Hon. Roden Noel, 1890, pp. 206, 207 18
+
+Lines written beneath a Picture. First published, _Childe
+Harold_, 1812 (4to) 19
+
+Translation of the famous Greek War Song,
+[Greek: Deu~te pi~des, k.t.l.] First published,
+_Childe Harold_, 1812 (4to) 20
+
+Translation of the Romaic Song,
+[Greek: Mne/pô mes' to\ peribo/li, k.t.l.]
+First published, _Childe Harold_, 1812 (4to) 22
+
+On Parting. First published, _Childe Harold_, 1812 (4to) 23
+
+Farewell to Malta. First published, _Poems on his Domestic
+Circumstances_, by W. Hone (Sixth Edition, 1816) 24
+
+Newstead Abbey. First published, _Memoir_ of Rev. F.
+Hodgson, 1878, i. 187 27
+
+Epistle to a Friend, in answer to some Lines exhorting the
+Author to be Cheerful, and to "banish Care." First
+published, _Letters and Journals_, 1830, i. 301 28
+
+To Thyrza ["Without a stone," etc.]. First published,
+_Childe Harold_, 1812 (4to) 30
+
+Stanzas ["Away, away," etc.]. First published, _Childe
+Harold_, 1812 (4to) 35
+
+Stanzas ["One struggle more," etc.]. First published,
+_Childe Harold_, 1812 (4to) 36
+
+Euthanasia. First published, _Childe Harold_, 1812 (Second
+Edition) 39
+
+Stanzas ["And thou art dead," etc.]. First published,
+_Childe Harold_, 1812 (Second Edition) 41
+
+Lines to a Lady weeping. First published, _Morning
+Chronicle_, March 7, 1812 45
+
+Stanzas ["If sometimes," etc.]. First published, _Childe
+Harold_, 1812 (Second Edition) 46
+
+On a Cornelian Heart which was broken. First published,
+_Childe Harold_, 1812 (Second Edition) 48
+
+The Chain I gave was Fair to view. From the Turkish. First
+published, _Corsair_, 1814 (Second Edition) 49
+
+Lines written on a Blank Leaf of _The Pleasures of Memory_.
+First published, _Poems_, 1816 50
+
+Address, spoken at the Opening of Drury-Lane Theatre,
+Saturday, October 10, 1812. First published, _Morning
+Chronicle_, October 12, 1812 51
+
+Parenthetical Address. By Dr. Plagiary. First published,
+_Morning Chronicle_, October 23, 1812 55
+
+Verses found in a Summer-house at Hales-Owen. First
+published, _Works of Lord Byron_, 1832, xvii. 244 59
+
+Remember thee! Remember thee! First published,
+_Conversations of Lord Byron_, 1824, p. 330 59
+
+To Time. First published, _Childe Harold_, 1814 (Seventh
+Edition) 60
+
+Translation of a Romaic Love Song. First published, _Childe
+Harold_, 1814 (Seventh Edition) 62
+
+Stanzas ["Thou art not false," etc.]. First published,
+_Childe Harold_, 1814 (Seventh Edition) 64
+
+On being asked what was the "Origin of Love." First
+published, _Childe Harold_, 1814 (Seventh Edition) 65
+
+On the Quotation, "And my true faith," etc. _MS. M._ 65
+
+Stanzas ["Remember him," etc.]. First published, _Childe
+Harold_, 1814 (Seventh Edition) 69
+
+Impromptu, in Reply to a Friend. First published, _Childe
+Harold_, 1814 (Seventh Edition) 67
+
+Sonnet. To Genevra ["Thine eyes' blue tenderness," etc.].
+First published, _Corsair_, 1814 (Second Edition) 70
+
+Sonnet. To Genevra ["Thy cheek is pale with thought," etc.].
+First published, _Corsair_, 1814 (Second Edition) 71
+
+From the Portuguese ["Tu mi chamas"]. First published,
+_Childe Harold_, 1814 (Seventh Edition). "Another Version."
+First published, 1831 71
+
+ The Giaour: A Fragment of a Turkish Tale.
+
+Introduction to _The Giaour_ 75
+
+Bibliographical Note on _The Giaour_ 78
+
+Dedication 81
+
+Advertisement 83
+
+_The Giaour_ 85
+
+ The Bride of Abydos. A Turkish Tale.
+
+Introduction to _The Bride of Abydos_ 149
+
+Note to the MSS. of _The Bride of Abydos_ 151
+
+Dedication 155
+
+_The Bride of Abydos_. Canto the First 157
+
+Canto the Second 178
+
+Note to _The Bride of Abydos_ 211
+
+ The Corsair: A Tale.
+
+Introduction to _The Corsair_ 217
+
+Bibliographical Note on _The Corsair_ 220
+
+Dedication 223
+
+_The Corsair_. Canto the First 227
+
+Canto the Second 249
+
+Canto the Third 270
+
+Introduction to the _Ode to Napoleon Buonaparte_ 303
+
+_Ode to Napoleon Buonaparte_ 305
+
+ Lara: A Tale.
+
+Introduction to _Lara_ 319
+
+_Lara._ Canto the First 323
+
+Canto the Second 348
+
+ Hebrew Melodies.
+
+Introduction to the _Hebrew Melodies_ 375
+
+Advertisement 379
+
+She walks in Beauty 318
+
+The Harp the Monarch Minstrel swept 382
+
+If that High World 383
+
+The Wild Gazelle 384
+
+Oh! weep for those 385
+
+On Jordan's Banks 386
+
+Jephtha's Daughter 387
+
+Oh! snatched away in Beauty's Bloom 388
+
+My Soul is Dark 389
+
+I saw thee weep 390
+
+Thy Days are done 391
+
+Saul 392
+
+Song of Saul before his Last Battle 393
+
+"All is Vanity, saith the Preacher" 394
+
+When Coldness wraps this Suffering Clay 395
+
+Vision of Belshazzar 397
+
+Sun of the Sleepless! 399
+
+Were my Bosom as False as thou deem'st it to be 399
+
+Herod's Lament for Mariamne 400
+
+On the Day of the Destruction of Jerusalem by Titus 401
+
+By the Rivers of Babylon we sat down and wept 402
+
+"By the Waters of Babylon" 404
+
+The Destruction of Sennacherib 404
+
+A Spirit passed before me 406
+
+ Poems 1814-1816.
+
+Farewell! if ever Fondest Prayer. First published, _Corsair_
+(Second Edition, 1814) 409
+
+When we Two parted. First published, _Poems_, 1816 410
+
+[Love and Gold.] _MS. M._ 411
+
+Stanzas for Music ["I speak not, I trace not," etc.]. First
+published, _Fugitive Pieces_, 1829 413
+
+Address intended to be recited at the Caledonian Meeting.
+First published, _Letters and Journals_, 1830, i. 559 415
+
+Elegiac Stanzas on the Death of Sir Peter Parker, Bart.
+First published, _Morning Chronicle_, October 7, 1814 417
+
+Julian [a Fragment]. _MS. M._ 419
+
+To Belshazzar. First published, 1831 421
+
+Stanzas for Music ["There's not a joy," etc.]. First
+published, _Poems_, 1816 423
+
+On the Death of the Duke of Dorset. _MS. M_ 425
+
+Stanzas for Music ["Bright be the place of thy soul"]. First
+published, _Examiner_, June 4, 1815 426
+
+Napoleon's Farewell. First published, _Examiner_, July 30,
+1815 427
+
+From the French ["Must thou go, my glorious Chief?"]. First
+published, _Poems_, 1816 428
+
+Ode from the French ["We do not curse thee, Waterloo!"].
+First published, _Morning Chronicle_, March 15, 1816 431
+
+Stanzas for Music ["There be none of Beauty's daughters"].
+First published, _Poems_, 1816 435
+
+On the Star of "the Legion of Honour." First published,
+_Examiner_, April 7, 1816 436
+
+Stanzas for Music ["They say that Hope is happiness"]. First
+published, _Fugitive Pieces_, 1829 438
+
+ The Siege of Corinth.
+
+Introduction to _The Siege of Corinth_ 441
+
+Dedication 445
+
+Advertisement 447
+
+Note on the MS. of _The Siege of Corinth_ 448
+
+_The Siege of Corinth_ 449
+
+ Parisina.
+
+Introduction to _Parisina_ 499
+
+Dedication 501
+
+Advertisement 503
+
+_Parisina_ 505
+
+ Poems of the Separation.
+
+Introduction to _Poems of the Separation_ 531
+
+Fare Thee Well 537
+
+A Sketch 540
+
+Stanzas to Augusta 544
+
+
+
+
+
+ LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+1. Lord Byron in Albanian Dress, from a Portrait in
+Oils by T. Phillips, R.A., in the Possession of Mr.
+John Murray _Frontispiece_
+
+2. H.R.H. the Princess Charlotte of Wales, from the
+Miniature in the Possession of H.M. the Queen, at
+Windsor Castle _to face p._ 44
+
+3. Lady Wilmot Horton, from a Sketch by Sir Thomas
+Lawrence 380
+
+4. Temple of Zeus Nemeus, from a Drawing by William
+Pars, A.R.A., in the British Museum 470
+
+5. Samuel Taylor Coleridge, from a Portrait in Oils
+by T. Phillips, R.A., in the Possession of Mr. John
+Murray 472
+
+6. The Hon. Mrs. Leigh, from a Sketch by Sir George
+Hayter, in the British Museum 544
+
+
+
+
+ INTRODUCTION TO THE _OCCASIONAL PIECES_
+ (_POEMS_ 1809-1813; _POEMS_ 1814-1816).
+
+
+The Poems afterwards entitled "Occasional Pieces," which were included
+in the several editions of the Collected Works issued by Murray,
+1819-1831, numbered fifty-seven in all. They may be described as the
+aggregate of the shorter poems written between the years 1809-1818,
+which the author thought worthy of a permanent place among his poetical
+works. Of these the first twenty-nine appeared in successive editions of
+_Childe Harold_ (Cantos I., II.) [viz. fourteen in the first edition,
+twenty in the second, and twenty-nine in the seventh edition], while the
+thirtieth, the _Ode on the Death of Sir Peter Parker_, was originally
+attached to _Hebrew Melodies_. The remaining twenty-seven pieces consist
+of six poems first published in the Second Edition of the _Corsair,_
+1814; eleven which formed the collection entitled "Poems," 1816; six
+which were appended to the _Prisoner of Chillon_, December, 1816; the
+_Very Mournful Ballad_, and the _Sonnet by Vittorelli_, which
+accompanied the Fourth Canto of _Childe Harold_, 1818; the _Sketch_,
+first included by Murray in his edition of 1819; and the _Ode to
+Venice_, which appeared in the same volume as _Mazeppa_.
+
+Thus matters stood till 1831, when seventy new poems (sixty had been
+published by Moore, in _Letters and Journals_, 1830, six were
+republished from Hobhouse's _Imitations and Translations_, 1809, and
+four derived from other sources) were included in a sixth volume of the
+Collected Works.
+
+In the edition of 1832-35, twenty-four new poems were added, but four
+which had appeared in _Letters and Journals_, 1830, and in the sixth
+volume of the edition of 1831 were omitted. In the one-volume edition
+(first issued in 1837 and still in print), the four short pieces omitted
+in 1832 once more found a place, and the lines on "John Keats," first
+published in _Letters and Journals_, and the two stanzas to Lady
+Caroline Lamb, "Remember thee! remember thee," first printed by Medwin,
+in the _Conversations of Lord Byron_, 1824, were included in the
+Collection.
+
+The third volume of the present issue includes all minor poems (with the
+exception of epigrams and _jeux d'esprit_ reserved for the sixth volume)
+written after Byron's departure for the East in July, 1809, and before
+he left England for good in April, 1816.
+
+The "Separation" and its consequent exile afforded a pretext and an
+opportunity for the publication of a crop of spurious verses. Of these
+_Madame Lavalette_ (first published in the _Examiner_, January 21, 1816,
+under the signature B. B., and immediately preceding a genuine sonnet by
+Wordsworth, "How clear, how keen, how marvellously bright!") and _Oh
+Shame to thee, Land of the Gaul!_ included by Hone, in _Poems on his
+Domestic Circumstances_, 1816; and _Farewell to England_, _Ode to the
+Isle of St. Helena_, _To the Lily of France_, _On the Morning of my
+Daughter's Birth_, published by J. Johnston, 1816, were repudiated by
+Byron, in a letter to Murray, dated July 22, 1816. A longer poem
+entitled _The Tempest_, which was attached to the spurious _Pilgrimage
+to the Holy Land_, published by Johnston, "the Cheapside impostor," in
+1817, was also denounced by Byron as a forgery in a letter to Murray,
+dated December 16, 1816.
+
+The _Triumph of the Whale_, by Charles Lamb, and the _Enigma on the
+Letter H_, by Harriet Fanshawe, were often included in piratical
+editions of Byron's _Poetical Works_. Other attributed poems which found
+their way into newspapers and foreign editions, viz. (i.) _To my dear
+Mary Anne_, 1804, "Adieu to sweet Mary for ever;" and (ii.) _To Miss
+Chaworth_, "Oh, memory, torture me no more," 1804, published in _Works
+of Lord Byron_, Paris, 1828; (iii.) lines written _In the Bible_,
+"Within this awful volume lies," quoted in _Life, Writings, Opinions,
+etc_., 1825, iii. 414; (iv.) lines addressed to (?) George Anson Byron,
+"And dost thou ask the reason of my sadness?" _Nicnac_, March 29, 1823;
+(v.) _To Lady Caroline Lamb_, "And sayst thou that I have not felt,"
+published in _Works, etc_., 1828; (vi.) lines _To her who can best
+understand them_, "Be it so, we part for ever," published in the _Works
+of Lord Byron, In Verse and Prose_, Hartford, 1847; (vii.) _Lines found
+in the Travellers' Book at Chamouni_, "How many numbered are, how few
+agreed!" published _Works, etc_., 1828; and (viii.) a second copy of
+verses with the same title, "All hail, Mont Blanc! Mont-au-Vert, hail!"
+_Life, Writings, etc_., 1825, ii. 384; (ix.) _Lines addressed by Lord
+Byron to Mr. Hobhouse on his Election for Westminster_, "Would you get
+to the house by the true gate?" _Works, etc_., 1828; and (x.) _Enigma on
+the Letter I_, "I am not in youth, nor in manhood, nor age," _Works,
+etc_., Paris, p. 720, together with sundry epigrams, must, failing the
+production of the original MSS., be accounted forgeries, or, perhaps, in
+one or two instances, of doubtful authenticity.
+
+The following poems: _On the Quotation_, "_And my true faith_" etc.;
+[_Love and Gold_]; _Julian_ [_a Fragment_]; and _On the Death of the
+Duke of Dorset_, are now published for the first time from MSS. in the
+possession of Mr. John Murray.
+
+
+
+
+ POEMS 1809-1813.
+
+
+
+ THE GIRL OF CADIZ.[1]
+
+ 1.
+
+ Oh never talk again to me
+ Of northern climes and British ladies;
+ It has not been your lot to see,[a]
+ Like me, the lovely Girl of Cadiz.
+ Although her eye be not of blue,
+ Nor fair her locks, like English lasses,
+ How far its own expressive hue
+ The languid azure eye surpasses!
+
+ 2.
+
+ Prometheus-like from heaven she stole
+ The fire that through those silken lashes
+ In darkest glances seems to roll,
+ From eyes that cannot hide their flashes:
+ And as along her bosom steal
+ In lengthened flow her raven tresses,
+ You'd swear each clustering lock could feel,
+ And curled to give her neck caresses.
+
+ 3.
+
+ Our English maids are long to woo,[b][2]
+ And frigid even in possession;
+ And if their charms be fair to view,
+ Their lips are slow at Love's confession;
+ But, born beneath a brighter sun,
+ For love ordained the Spanish maid is,
+ And who,--when fondly, fairly won,--
+ Enchants you like the Girl of Cadiz?
+
+ 4.
+
+ The Spanish maid is no coquette,
+ Nor joys to see a lover tremble,
+ And if she love, or if she hate,
+ Alike she knows not to dissemble.
+ Her heart can ne'er be bought or sold--
+ Howe'er it beats, it beats sincerely;
+ And, though it will not bend to gold,
+ 'Twill love you long and love you dearly.
+
+ 5.
+
+ The Spanish girl that meets your love
+ Ne'er taunts you with a mock denial,
+ For every thought is bent to prove
+ Her passion in the hour of trial.
+ When thronging foemen menace Spain,
+ She dares the deed and shares the danger;
+ And should her lover press the plain,
+ She hurls the spear, her love's avenger.
+
+ 6.
+
+ And when, beneath the evening star,
+ She mingles in the gay Bolero,[3]
+ Or sings to her attuned guitar
+ Of Christian knight or Moorish hero,
+ Or counts her beads with fairy hand
+ Beneath the twinkling rays of Hesper,[c]
+ Or joins Devotion's choral band,
+ To chaunt the sweet and hallowed vesper;--
+
+ 7.
+
+ In each her charms the heart must move
+ Of all who venture to behold her;
+ Then let not maids less fair reprove
+ Because her bosom is not colder:
+ Through many a clime 'tis mine to roam
+ Where many a soft and melting maid is,
+ But none abroad, and few at home,
+ May match the dark-eyed Girl of Cadiz.[d]
+
+ 1809.
+ [First published, 1832.]
+
+
+
+ LINES WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM, AT MALTA.[e][4]
+
+ 1.
+
+ As o'er the cold sepulchral stone
+ Some _name_ arrests the passer-by;
+ Thus, when thou view'st this page alone,
+ May _mine_ attract thy pensive eye!
+
+ 2.
+
+ And when by thee that name is read,
+ Perchance in some succeeding year,
+ Reflect on _me_ as on the _dead_,
+ And think my _Heart_ is buried _here_.
+
+ Malta, _September_ 14, 1809.
+ [First published, _Childe Harold_, 1812 (4to).]
+
+
+
+ TO FLORENCE.[f]
+
+ 1.
+
+ Oh Lady! when I left the shore,
+ The distant shore which gave me birth,
+ I hardly thought to grieve once more,
+ To quit another spot on earth:
+
+ 2.
+
+ Yet here, amidst this barren isle,
+ Where panting Nature droops the head,
+ Where only thou art seen to smile,
+ I view my parting hour with dread.
+
+ 3.
+
+ Though far from Albin's craggy shore,
+ Divided by the dark-blue main;
+ A few, brief, rolling seasons o'er,
+ Perchance I view her cliffs again:
+
+ 4.
+
+ But wheresoe'er I now may roam,
+ Through scorching clime, and varied sea,
+ Though Time restore me to my home,
+ I ne'er shall bend mine eyes on thee:
+
+ 5.
+
+ On thee, in whom at once conspire
+ All charms which heedless hearts can move,
+ Whom but to see is to admire,
+ And, oh! forgive the word--to love.
+
+ 6.
+
+ Forgive the word, in one who ne'er
+ With such a word can more offend;
+ And since thy heart I cannot share,
+ Believe me, what I am, thy friend.
+
+ 7.
+
+ And who so cold as look on thee,
+ Thou lovely wand'rer, and be less?
+ Nor be, what man should ever be,
+ The friend of Beauty in distress?
+
+ 8.
+
+ Ah! who would think that form had past
+ Through Danger's most destructive path,[g]
+ Had braved the death-winged tempest's blast,
+ And 'scaped a Tyrant's fiercer wrath?
+
+ 9.
+
+ Lady! when I shall view the walls
+ Where free Byzantium once arose,
+ And Stamboul's Oriental halls
+ The Turkish tyrants now enclose;
+
+ 10.
+
+ Though mightiest in the lists of fame,
+ That glorious city still shall be;
+ On me 'twill hold a dearer claim,
+ As spot of thy nativity:
+
+ 11.
+
+ And though I bid thee now farewell,
+ When I behold that wondrous scene--
+ Since where thou art I may not dwell--
+ 'Twill soothe to be where thou hast been.
+
+ _September_, 1809.
+ [First published, _Childe Harold_, 1812 (4to).]
+
+
+
+ STANZAS COMPOSED DURING A THUNDERSTORM.[h][5]
+
+ 1.
+
+ Chill and mirk is the nightly blast,
+ Where Pindus' mountains rise,
+ And angry clouds are pouring fast
+ The vengeance of the skies.
+
+ 2.
+
+ Our guides are gone, our hope is lost,
+ And lightnings, as they play,
+ But show where rocks our path have crost,
+ Or gild the torrent's spray.
+
+ 3.
+
+ Is yon a cot I saw, though low?
+ When lightning broke the gloom--
+ How welcome were its shade!--ah, no!
+ 'Tis but a Turkish tomb.
+
+ 4.
+
+ Through sounds of foaming waterfalls,
+ I hear a voice exclaim--
+ My way-worn countryman, who calls
+ On distant England's name.
+
+ 5.
+
+ A shot is fired--by foe or friend?
+ Another--'tis to tell
+ The mountain-peasants to descend,
+ And lead us where they dwell.
+
+ 6.
+
+ Oh! who in such a night will dare
+ To tempt the wilderness?
+ And who 'mid thunder-peals can hear
+ Our signal of distress?
+
+ 7.
+
+ And who that heard our shouts would rise
+ To try the dubious road?
+ Nor rather deem from nightly cries
+ That outlaws were abroad.
+
+ 8.
+
+ Clouds burst, skies flash, oh, dreadful hour!
+ More fiercely pours the storm!
+ Yet here one thought has still the power
+ To keep my bosom warm.
+
+ 9.
+
+ While wandering through each broken path,
+ O'er brake and craggy brow;
+ While elements exhaust their wrath,
+ Sweet Florence, where art thou?
+
+ 10.
+
+ Not on the sea, not on the sea--
+ Thy bark hath long been gone:
+ Oh, may the storm that pours on me,
+ Bow down my head alone!
+
+ 11.
+
+ Full swiftly blew the swift Siroc,
+ When last I pressed thy lip;
+ And long ere now, with foaming shock,
+ Impelled thy gallant ship.
+
+ 12.
+
+ Now thou art safe; nay, long ere now
+ Hast trod the shore of Spain;
+ 'Twere hard if aught so fair as thou
+ Should linger on the main.
+
+ 13.
+
+ And since I now remember thee
+ In darkness and in dread,
+ As in those hours of revelry
+ Which Mirth and Music sped;
+
+ 14.
+
+ Do thou, amid the fair white walls,
+ If Cadiz yet be free,
+ At times from out her latticed halls
+ Look o'er the dark blue sea;
+
+ 15.
+
+ Then think upon Calypso's isles,
+ Endeared by days gone by;
+ To others give a thousand smiles,
+ To me a single sigh.
+
+ 16.
+
+ And when the admiring circle mark
+ The paleness of thy face,
+ A half-formed tear, a transient spark
+ Of melancholy grace,
+
+ 17.
+
+ Again thou'lt smile, and blushing shun
+ Some coxcomb's raillery;
+ Nor own for once thou thought'st on one,
+ Who ever thinks on thee.
+
+ 18.
+
+ Though smile and sigh alike are vain,
+ When severed hearts repine,
+ My spirit flies o'er Mount and Main,
+ And mourns in search of _thine_.
+
+ _October_ 11, 1809.
+ [MS. M. First published, _Childe Harold_, 1812 (4to).]
+
+
+
+ STANZAS WRITTEN IN PASSING THE AMBRACIAN GULF.[i]
+
+ 1.
+
+ Through cloudless skies, in silvery sheen,
+ Full beams the moon on Actium's coast:
+ And on these waves, for Egypt's queen,
+ The ancient world was won and lost.
+
+ 2.
+
+ And now upon the scene I look,
+ The azure grave of many a Roman;
+ Where stern Ambition once forsook
+ His wavering crown to follow _Woman_.
+
+ 3.
+
+ Florence! whom I will love as well
+ (As ever yet was said or sung,
+ Since Orpheus sang his spouse from Hell)
+ Whilst _thou_ art _fair_ and _I_ am _young_;
+
+ 4.
+
+ Sweet Florence! those were pleasant times,
+ When worlds were staked for Ladies' eyes:
+ Had bards as many realms as rhymes,[j]
+ Thy charms might raise new Antonies.[k]
+
+ 5.
+
+ Though Fate forbids such things to be,[l]
+ Yet, by thine eyes and ringlets curled!
+ I cannot _lose_ a _world_ for thee,
+ But would not lose _thee_ for a _World_.[6]
+
+ _November_ 14, 1809.
+ [MS. M. First published, _Childe Harold_, 1812 (4to).]
+
+
+
+ THE SPELL IS BROKE, THE CHARM IS FLOWN![m]
+
+ WRITTEN AT ATHENS, JANUARY 16, 1810.
+
+
+ The spell is broke, the charm is flown!
+ Thus is it with Life's fitful fever:
+ We madly smile when we should groan;
+ Delirium is our best deceiver.
+ Each lucid interval of thought
+ Recalls the woes of Nature's charter;
+ And _He_ that acts as _wise men ought_,
+ But _lives_--as Saints have died--a martyr.
+
+ [MS. M. First published, _Childe Harold_, 1812 (4to).]
+
+
+
+ WRITTEN AFTER SWIMMING FROM SESTOS TO ABYDOS.[7]
+
+ 1.
+
+ If, in the month of dark December,
+ Leander, who was nightly wont
+ (What maid will not the tale remember?)
+ To cross thy stream, broad Hellespont!
+
+ 2.
+
+ If, when the wintry tempest roared,
+ He sped to Hero, nothing loth,
+ And thus of old thy current poured,
+ Fair Venus! how I pity both!
+
+ 3.
+
+ For _me_, degenerate modern wretch,
+ Though in the genial month of May,
+ My dripping limbs I faintly stretch,
+ And think I've done a feat to-day.
+
+ 4.
+
+ But since he crossed the rapid tide,
+ According to the doubtful story,
+ To woo,--and--Lord knows what beside,
+ And swam for Love, as I for Glory;
+
+ 5.
+
+ 'Twere hard to say who fared the best:
+ Sad mortals! thus the Gods still plague you!
+ He lost his labour, I my jest:
+ For he was drowned, and I've the ague.[8]
+
+ _May 9, 1810._
+ [First published, _Childe Harold_, 1812 (4to).]
+
+
+
+ LINES IN THE TRAVELLERS' BOOK AT ORCHOMENUS.[9]
+
+ IN THIS BOOK A TRAVELLER HAD WRITTEN:--
+
+ "Fair Albion, smiling, sees her son depart
+ To trace the birth and nursery of art:
+ Noble his object, glorious is his aim;
+ He comes to Athens, and he--writes his name."
+
+ BENEATH WHICH LORD BYRON INSERTED THE FOLLOWING:--
+
+ The modest bard, like many a bard unknown,
+ Rhymes on our names, but wisely hides his own;
+ But yet, whoe'er he be, to say no worse,
+ His name would bring more credit than his verse.
+
+ 1810.
+ [First published, _Life_, 1830.]
+
+
+
+ MAID OF ATHENS, ERE WE PART.[n]
+
+ [Greek: Zôê/ mou, sa~s a)gapô~.]
+
+ 1.
+
+ Maid of Athens,[10] ere we part,
+ Give, oh give me back my heart!
+ Or, since that has left my breast,
+ Keep it now, and take the rest!
+ Hear my vow before I go,
+ [Greek: Zôê/ mou, sa~s a)gapô~.][11]
+
+ 2.
+
+ By those tresses unconfined,
+ Wooed by each Ægean wind;
+ By those lids whose jetty fringe
+ Kiss thy soft cheeks' blooming tinge;
+ By those wild eyes like the roe,
+ [Greek: Zôê/ mou, sa~s a)gapô~.]
+
+ 3.
+
+ By that lip I long to taste;
+ By that zone-encircled waist;
+ By all the token-flowers[12] that tell
+ What words can never speak so well;
+ By love's alternate joy and woe,
+ [Greek: Zôê/ mou, sa~s a)gapô~.]
+
+ 4.
+
+ Maid of Athens! I am gone:
+ Think of me, sweet! when alone.
+ Though I fly to Istambol,[13]
+ Athens holds my heart and soul:
+ Can I cease to love thee? No!
+ [Greek: Zôê/ mou, sa~s a)gapô~.]
+
+ _Athens_, 1810.
+ [First published, _Childe Harold_, 1812 (4to).]
+
+
+
+ FRAGMENT FROM THE "MONK OF ATHOS."[14]
+
+ 1.
+
+ Beside the confines of the Ægean main,
+ Where northward Macedonia bounds the flood,
+ And views opposed the Asiatic plain,
+ Where once the pride of lofty Ilion stood,
+ Like the great Father of the giant brood,
+ With lowering port majestic Athos stands,
+ Crowned with the verdure of eternal wood,
+ As yet unspoiled by sacrilegious hands,
+ And throws his mighty shade o'er seas and distant lands.
+
+ 2.
+
+ And deep embosomed in his shady groves
+ Full many a convent rears its glittering spire,
+ Mid scenes where Heavenly Contemplation loves
+ To kindle in her soul her hallowed fire,
+ Where air and sea with rocks and woods conspire
+ To breathe a sweet religious calm around,
+ Weaning the thoughts from every low desire,
+ And the wild waves that break with murmuring sound
+ Along the rocky shore proclaim it holy ground.
+
+ 3.
+
+ Sequestered shades where Piety has given
+ A quiet refuge from each earthly care,
+ Whence the rapt spirit may ascend to Heaven!
+
+ Oh, ye condemned the ills of life to bear!
+ As with advancing age your woes increase,
+ What bliss amidst these solitudes to share
+ The happy foretaste of eternal Peace,
+ Till Heaven in mercy bids your pain and sorrows cease.
+
+ [First published in the _Life of Lord Byron_,
+ by the Hon. Roden Noel, London, 1890, pp. 206, 207.]
+
+
+
+ LINES WRITTEN BENEATH A PICTURE.[15]
+
+ 1.
+
+ Dear object of defeated care!
+ Though now of Love and thee bereft,
+ To reconcile me with despair
+ Thine image and my tears are left.
+
+ 2.
+
+ 'Tis said with Sorrow Time can cope;
+ But this I feel can ne'er be true:
+ For by the death-blow of my Hope
+ My Memory immortal grew.
+
+ _Athens, January_, 1811.
+ [First published, _Childe Harold_, 1812 (4to).]
+
+
+
+ TRANSLATION OF THE FAMOUS GREEK WAR SONG,
+ [Greek: "Deu~te pai~des tô~n E(llê/nôn."][16]
+
+ Sons of the Greeks, arise!
+ The glorious hour's gone forth,
+ And, worthy of such ties,
+ Display who gave us birth.
+
+ CHORUS.
+
+ Sons of Greeks! let us go
+ In arms against the foe,
+ Till their hated blood shall flow
+ In a river past our feet.
+
+ Then manfully despising
+ The Turkish tyrant's yoke,
+ Let your country see you rising,
+ And all her chains are broke.
+ Brave shades of chiefs and sages,
+ Behold the coming strife!
+ Hellénes of past ages,
+ Oh, start again to life!
+ At the sound of my trumpet, breaking
+ Your sleep, oh, join with me!
+ And the seven-hilled city[17] seeking,
+ Fight, conquer, till we're free.
+
+ Sons of Greeks, etc.
+
+ Sparta, Sparta, why in slumbers
+ Lethargic dost thou lie?
+ Awake, and join thy numbers
+ With Athens, old ally!
+ Leonidas recalling,
+ That chief of ancient song,
+ Who saved ye once from falling,
+ The terrible! the strong!
+ Who made that bold diversion
+ In old Thermopylæ,
+ And warring with the Persian
+ To keep his country free;
+ With his three hundred waging
+ The battle, long he stood,
+ And like a lion raging,
+ Expired in seas of blood.
+
+ Sons of Greeks, etc.
+
+ [First published, _Childe Harold_, 1812 (4to).]
+
+
+
+ TRANSLATION OF THE ROMAIC SONG,
+
+ [Greek: "Mpe/nô mes' to\ peribo/li,]
+ [Greek: Ô(raiota/tê Chaêdê/," k.t.l.][18]
+
+ I enter thy garden of roses,
+ Belovéd and fair Haidée,
+ Each morning where Flora reposes,
+ For surely I see her in thee.
+ Oh, Lovely! thus low I implore thee,
+ Receive this fond truth from my tongue,
+ Which utters its song to adore thee,
+ Yet trembles for what it has sung;
+ As the branch, at the bidding of Nature,
+ Adds fragrance and fruit to the tree,
+ Through her eyes, through her every feature,
+ Shines the soul of the young Haidée.
+
+ But the loveliest garden grows hateful
+ When Love has abandoned the bowers;
+ Bring me hemlock--since mine is ungrateful,
+ That herb is more fragrant than flowers.
+ The poison, when poured from the chalice,
+ Will deeply embitter the bowl;
+ But when drunk to escape from thy malice,
+ The draught shall be sweet to my soul.
+ Too cruel! in vain I implore thee
+ My heart from these horrors to save:
+ Will nought to my bosom restore thee?
+ Then open the gates of the grave.
+
+ As the chief who to combat advances
+ Secure of his conquest before,
+ Thus thou, with those eyes for thy lances,
+ Hast pierced through my heart to its core.
+ Ah, tell me, my soul! must I perish
+ By pangs which a smile would dispel?
+ Would the hope, which thou once bad'st me cherish,
+ For torture repay me too well?
+ Now sad is the garden of roses,
+ Belovéd but false Haidée!
+ There Flora all withered reposes,
+ And mourns o'er thine absence with me.
+
+ 1811.
+ [First published, _Childe Harold_, 1812 (4to).]
+
+
+
+ ON PARTING.
+
+ 1.
+
+ The kiss, dear maid! thy lip has left
+ Shall never part from mine,
+ Till happier hours restore the gift
+ Untainted back to thine.
+
+ 2.
+
+ Thy parting glance, which fondly beams,
+ An equal love may see:[o]
+ The tear that from thine eyelid streams
+ Can weep no change in me.
+
+ 3.
+
+ I ask no pledge to make me blest
+ In gazing when alone;[p]
+ Nor one memorial for a breast,
+ Whose thoughts are all thine own.
+
+ 4.
+
+ Nor need I write--to tell the tale
+ My pen were doubly weak:
+ Oh! what can idle words avail,[q]
+ Unless the heart could speak?
+
+ 5.
+
+ By day or night, in weal or woe,
+ That heart, no longer free,
+ Must bear the love it cannot show,
+ And silent ache for thee.
+
+ _March_, 1811.
+ [First published, _Childe Harold_, 1812(4to).]
+
+
+
+ FAREWELL TO MALTA.[19]
+
+ Adieu, ye joys of La Valette!
+ Adieu, Sirocco, sun, and sweat!
+ Adieu, thou palace rarely entered!
+ Adieu, ye mansions where--I've ventured!
+ Adieu, ye curséd streets of stairs![20]
+ (How surely he who mounts them swears!)
+ Adieu, ye merchants often failing!
+ Adieu, thou mob for ever railing!
+ Adieu, ye packets--without letters!
+ Adieu, ye fools--who ape your betters! 10
+ Adieu, thou damned'st quarantine,
+ That gave me fever, and the spleen!
+ Adieu that stage which makes us yawn, Sirs,
+ Adieu his Excellency's dancers![21]
+ Adieu to Peter--whom no fault's in,
+ But could not teach a colonel waltzing;
+ Adieu, ye females fraught with graces!
+ Adieu red coats, and redder faces!
+ Adieu the supercilious air
+ Of all that strut _en militaire_![22] 20
+ I go--but God knows when, or why,
+ To smoky towns and cloudy sky,
+ To things (the honest truth to say)
+ As bad--but in a different way.
+
+ Farewell to these, but not adieu,
+ Triumphant sons of truest blue!
+ While either Adriatic shore,[23]
+ And fallen chiefs, and fleets no more,
+ And nightly smiles, and daily dinners,[24]
+ Proclaim you war and women's winners. 30
+ Pardon my Muse, who apt to prate is,
+ And take my rhyme--because 'tis "gratis."
+
+ And now I've got to Mrs. Fraser,[25]
+ Perhaps you think I mean to praise her--
+ And were I vain enough to think
+ My praise was worth this drop of ink,
+ A line--or two--were no hard matter,
+ As here, indeed, I need not flatter:
+ But she must be content to shine
+ In better praises than in mine, 40
+ With lively air, and open heart,
+ And fashion's ease, without its art;
+ Her hours can gaily glide along.
+ Nor ask the aid of idle song.
+
+ And now, O Malta! since thou'st got us,
+ Thou little military hot-house!
+ I'll not offend with words uncivil,
+ And wish thee rudely at the Devil,
+ But only stare from out my casement,
+ And ask, "for what is such a place meant?" 50
+ Then, in my solitary nook,
+ Return to scribbling, or a book,
+ Or take my physic while I'm able
+ (Two spoonfuls hourly, by this label),
+ Prefer my nightcap to my beaver,
+ And bless my stars I've got a fever.
+
+ _May_ 26, 1811.[26]
+ [First published, 1816.]
+
+
+
+ NEWSTEAD ABBEY.
+
+ 1.
+
+ In the dome of my Sires as the clear moonbeam falls
+ Through Silence and Shade o'er its desolate walls,
+ It shines from afar like the glories of old;
+ It gilds, but it warms not--'tis dazzling, but cold.
+
+ 2.
+
+ Let the Sunbeam be bright for the younger of days:
+ 'Tis the light that should shine on a race that decays,
+ When the Stars are on high and the dews on the ground,
+ And the long shadow lingers the ruin around.
+
+ 3.
+
+ And the step that o'erechoes the gray floor of stone
+ Falls sullenly now, for 'tis only my own;
+ And sunk are the voices that sounded in mirth,
+ And empty the goblet, and dreary the hearth.
+
+ 4.
+
+ And vain was each effort to raise and recall
+ The brightness of old to illumine our Hall;
+ And vain was the hope to avert our decline,
+ And the fate of my fathers had faded to mine.
+
+ 5.
+
+ And theirs was the wealth and the fulness of Fame,
+ And mine to inherit too haughty a name;[r]
+ And theirs were the times and the triumphs of yore,
+ And mine to regret, but renew them no more.
+
+ 6.
+
+ And Ruin is fixed on my tower and my wall,
+ Too hoary to fade, and too massy to fall;
+ It tells not of Time's or the tempest's decay,[s]
+ But the wreck of the line that have held it in sway.
+
+ _August_ 26, 1811.
+ [First published in _Memoir_ of Rev. F. Hodgson, 1878, i. 187.]
+
+
+
+ EPISTLE TO A FRIEND,[27]
+
+ IN ANSWER TO SOME LINES EXHORTING THE AUTHOR
+ TO BE CHEERFUL, AND TO "BANISH CARE."
+
+ "Oh! banish care"--such ever be
+ The motto of _thy_ revelry!
+ Perchance of _mine,_ when wassail nights
+ Renew those riotous delights,
+ Wherewith the children of Despair
+ Lull the lone heart, and "banish care."
+ But not in Morn's reflecting hour,
+ When present, past, and future lower,
+ When all I loved is changed or gone,
+ Mock with such taunts the woes of one,
+ Whose every thought--but let them pass--
+ Thou know'st I am not what I was.
+ But, above all, if thou wouldst hold
+ Place in a heart that ne'er was cold,
+ By all the powers that men revere,
+ By all unto thy bosom dear,
+ Thy joys below, thy hopes above,
+ Speak--speak of anything but Love.
+
+ 'Twere long to tell, and vain to hear,
+ The tale of one who scorns a tear;
+ And there is little in that tale
+ Which better bosoms would bewail.
+ But mine has suffered more than well
+ 'Twould suit philosophy to tell.
+ I've seen my bride another's bride,--
+ Have seen her seated by his side,--
+ Have seen the infant, which she bore,
+ Wear the sweet smile the mother wore,
+ When she and I in youth have smiled,
+ As fond and faultless as her child;--
+ Have seen her eyes, in cold disdain,
+ Ask if I felt no secret pain;
+ And _I_ have acted well my part,
+ And made my cheek belie my heart,
+ Returned the freezing glance she gave,
+ Yet felt the while that _woman's_ slave;--
+ Have kissed, as if without design,
+ The babe which ought to have been mine,
+ And showed, alas! in each caress
+ Time had not made me love the less.
+
+ But let this pass--I'll whine no more,
+ Nor seek again an eastern shore;
+ The world befits a busy brain,--
+ I'll hie me to its haunts again.
+ But if, in some succeeding year,[28]
+ When Britain's "May is in the sere,"
+ Thou hear'st of one, whose deepening crimes
+ Suit with the sablest of the times,
+ Of one, whom love nor pity sways,
+ Nor hope of fame, nor good men's praise;
+ One, who in stern Ambition's pride,
+ Perchance not blood shall turn aside;
+ One ranked in some recording page
+ With the worst anarchs of the age,
+ Him wilt thou _know_--and _knowing_ pause,
+ Nor with the _effect_ forget the cause.
+
+ Newstead Abbey, Oct. 11, 1811.
+ [First published, _Life_, 1830.]
+
+
+
+ TO THYRZA.[t][29]
+
+ Without a stone to mark the spot,[30]
+ And say, what Truth might well have said,[u]
+ By all, save one, perchance forgot,
+ Ah! wherefore art thou lowly laid?
+ By many a shore and many a sea[v]
+ Divided, yet beloved in vain;
+ The Past, the Future fled to thee,
+ To bid us meet--no--ne'er again!
+ Could this have been--a word, a look,
+ That softly said, "We part in peace,"
+ Had taught my bosom how to brook,
+ With fainter sighs, thy soul's release.
+ And didst thou not, since Death for thee
+ Prepared a light and pangless dart,
+ Once long for him thou ne'er shalt see,
+ Who held, and holds thee in his heart?
+ Oh! who like him had watched thee here?
+ Or sadly marked thy glazing eye,
+ In that dread hour ere Death appear,
+ When silent Sorrow fears to sigh,
+ Till all was past? But when no more
+ 'Twas thine to reck of human woe,
+ Affection's heart-drops, gushing o'er,
+ Had flowed as fast--as now they flow.
+ Shall they not flow, when many a day[w]
+ In these, to me, deserted towers,
+ Ere called but for a time away,
+ Affection's mingling tears were ours?
+ Ours too the glance none saw beside;
+ The smile none else might understand;
+ The whispered thought of hearts allied,[x]
+ The pressure of the thrilling hand;
+ The kiss, so guiltless and refined,
+ That Love each warmer wish forbore;
+ Those eyes proclaimed so pure a mind,
+ Ev'n Passion blushed to plead for more.[y]
+ The tone, that taught me to rejoice,
+ When prone, unlike thee, to repine;
+ The song, celestial from thy voice,
+ But sweet to me from none but thine;
+ The pledge we wore--_I_ wear it still,
+ But where is thine?--Ah! where art thou?
+ Oft have I borne the weight of ill,
+ But never bent beneath till now!
+ Well hast thou left in Life's best bloom[z]
+ The cup of Woe for me to drain.[aa]
+ If rest alone be in the tomb,
+ I would not wish thee here again:
+ But if in worlds more blest than this
+ Thy virtues seek a fitter sphere,
+ Impart some portion of thy bliss,
+ To wean me from mine anguish here.
+ Teach me--too early taught by thee!
+ To bear, forgiving and forgiven:
+ On earth thy love was such to me;
+ It fain would form my hope in Heaven![ab]
+
+ October 11, 1811.
+ [First published, _Childe Harold_, 1812 (4to).]
+
+
+
+ AWAY, AWAY, YE NOTES OF WOE![ac][31]
+
+ 1.
+
+ Away, away, ye notes of Woe!
+ Be silent, thou once soothing Strain,
+ Or I must flee from hence--for, oh!
+ I dare not trust those sounds again.[ad]
+ To me they speak of brighter days--
+ But lull the chords, for now, alas![ae]
+ I must not think, I may not gaze,[af]
+ On what I _am_--on what I _was_.
+
+ 2.
+
+ The voice that made those sounds more sweet[ag]
+ Is hushed, and all their charms are fled;
+ And now their softest notes repeat
+ A dirge, an anthem o'er the dead!
+ Yes, Thyrza! yes, they breathe of thee,
+ Belovéd dust! since dust thou art;
+ And all that once was Harmony
+ Is worse than discord to my heart!
+
+ 3.
+
+ 'Tis silent all!--but on my ear[ah]
+ The well remembered Echoes thrill;
+ I hear a voice I would not hear,
+ A voice that now might well be still:
+ Yet oft my doubting Soul 'twill shake;
+ Ev'n Slumber owns its gentle tone,
+ Till Consciousness will vainly wake
+ To listen, though the dream be flown.
+
+ 4.
+
+ Sweet Thyrza! waking as in sleep,
+ Thou art but now a lovely dream;
+ A Star that trembled o'er the deep,
+ Then turned from earth its tender beam.
+ But he who through Life's dreary way
+ Must pass, when Heaven is veiled in wrath,
+ Will long lament the vanished ray
+ That scattered gladness o'er his path.
+
+ _December_ 8, 1811.
+ [First published, _Childe Harold_, 1812 (4to).]
+
+
+
+ ONE STRUGGLE MORE, AND I AM FREE.[ai]
+
+ 1.
+
+ One struggle more, and I am free
+ From pangs that rend my heart in twain;[aj]
+ One last long sigh to Love and thee,
+ Then back to busy life again.
+ It suits me well to mingle now
+ With things that never pleased before:[ak]
+ Though every joy is fled below,
+ What future grief can touch me more?[al]
+
+ 2.
+
+ Then bring me wine, the banquet bring;
+ Man was not formed to live alone:
+ I'll be that light unmeaning thing
+ That smiles with all, and weeps with none.
+ It was not thus in days more dear,
+ It never would have been, but thou[am]
+ Hast fled, and left me lonely here;
+ Thou'rt nothing,--all are nothing now.
+
+ 3.
+
+ In vain my lyre would lightly breathe!
+ The smile that Sorrow fain would wear
+ But mocks the woe that lurks beneath,
+ Like roses o'er a sepulchre.
+ Though gay companions o'er the bowl
+ Dispel awhile the sense of ill;
+ Though Pleasure fires the maddening soul,
+ The Heart,--the Heart is lonely still!
+
+ 4.
+
+ On many a lone and lovely night
+ It soothed to gaze upon the sky;
+ For then I deemed the heavenly light
+ Shone sweetly on thy pensive eye:
+ And oft I thought at Cynthia's noon,
+ When sailing o'er the Ægean wave,
+ "Now Thyrza gazes on that moon"--
+ Alas, it gleamed upon her grave!
+
+ 5.
+
+ When stretched on Fever's sleepless bed,
+ And sickness shrunk my throbbing veins,
+ "'Tis comfort still," I faintly said,[an]
+ "That Thyrza cannot know my pains:"
+ Like freedom to the time-worn slave--[ao]
+ A boon 'tis idle then to give--
+ Relenting Nature vainly gave[32]
+ My life, when Thyrza ceased to live!
+
+ 6.
+
+ My Thyrza's pledge in better days,[ap]
+ When Love and Life alike were new!
+ How different now thou meet'st my gaze!
+ How tinged by time with Sorrow's hue!
+ The heart that gave itself with thee
+ Is silent--ah, were mine as still!
+ Though cold as e'en the dead can be,
+ It feels, it sickens with the chill.
+
+ 7.
+
+ Thou bitter pledge! thou mournful token!
+ Though painful, welcome to my breast!
+ Still, still, preserve that love unbroken,
+ Or break the heart to which thou'rt pressed.
+ Time tempers Love, but not removes,
+ More hallowed when its Hope is fled:
+ Oh! what are thousand living loves
+ To that which cannot quit the dead?
+
+ [First published, _Childe Harold,_ 1812 (4to).]
+
+
+
+ EUTHANASIA.
+
+ 1.
+
+ When Time, or soon or late, shall bring
+ The dreamless sleep that lulls the dead,
+ Oblivion! may thy languid wing
+ Wave gently o'er my dying bed!
+
+ 2.
+
+ No band of friends or heirs be there,[33]
+ To weep, or wish, the coming blow:
+ No maiden, with dishevelled hair,
+ To feel, or feign, decorous woe.
+
+ 3.
+
+ But silent let me sink to Earth,
+ With no officious mourners near:
+ I would not mar one hour of mirth,
+ Nor startle Friendship with a fear.
+
+ 4.
+
+ Yet Love, if Love in such an hour
+ Could nobly check its useless sighs,
+ Might then exert its latest power
+ In her who lives, and him who dies.
+
+ 5.
+
+ 'Twere sweet, my Psyche! to the last
+ Thy features still serene to see:
+ Forgetful of its struggles past,
+ E'en Pain itself should smile on thee.
+
+ 6.
+
+ But vain the wish--for Beauty still
+ Will shrink, as shrinks the ebbing breath;
+ And Woman's tears, produced at will,
+ Deceive in life, unman in death.
+
+ 7.
+
+ Then lonely be my latest hour,
+ Without regret, without a groan;
+ For thousands Death hath ceased to lower,
+ And pain been transient or unknown.
+
+ 8.
+
+ "Aye but to die, and go," alas!
+ Where all have gone, and all must go!
+ To be the nothing that I was
+ Ere born to life and living woe!
+
+ 9.
+
+ Count o'er the joys thine hours have seen,
+ Count o'er thy days from anguish free,
+ And know, whatever thou hast been,
+ 'Tis something better not to be.
+
+ [First published, _Childe Harold_, 1812 (Second Edition).]
+
+
+
+ AND THOU ART DEAD, AS YOUNG AND FAIR.[aq]
+
+"Heu, quanto minus est cum reliquis versari quam tui meminisse!"[34]
+
+ 1.
+
+ And thou art dead, as young and fair
+ As aught of mortal birth;
+ And form so soft, and charms so rare,
+ Too soon returned to Earth![ar]
+ Though Earth received them in her bed,
+ And o'er the spot the crowd may tread[as]
+ In carelessness or mirth,
+ There is an eye which could not brook
+ A moment on that grave to look.
+
+ 2.
+
+ I will not ask where thou liest low,[at]
+ Nor gaze upon the spot;
+ There flowers or weeds at will may grow,
+ So I behold them not:[au]
+ It is enough for me to prove
+ That what I loved, and long must love,
+ Like common earth can rot;[av]
+ To me there needs no stone to tell,
+ 'Tis Nothing that I loved so well[aw]
+
+ 3.
+
+ Yet did I love thee to the last
+ As fervently as thou,[ax]
+ Who didst not change through all the past,
+ And canst not alter now.
+ The love where Death has set his seal,
+ Nor age can chill, nor rival steal,[ay]
+ Nor falsehood disavow:[az]
+ And, what were worse, thou canst not see[ba]
+ Or wrong, or change, or fault in me.[bb]
+
+ 4.
+
+ The better days of life were ours;
+ The worst can be but mine:
+ The sun that cheers, the storm that lowers,[bc]
+ Shall never more be thine.
+ The silence of that dreamless sleep[bd]
+ I envy now too much to weep;
+ Nor need I to repine,
+ That all those charms have passed away
+ I might have watched through long decay.
+
+ 5.
+
+ The flower in ripened bloom unmatched
+ Must fall the earliest prey;[be]
+ Though by no hand untimely snatched,
+ The leaves must drop away:
+ And yet it were a greater grief
+ To watch it withering, leaf by leaf,
+ Than see it plucked to-day;
+ Since earthly eye but ill can bear
+ To trace the change to foul from fair.
+
+ 6.
+
+ I know not if I could have borne[bf]
+ To see thy beauties fade;
+ The night that followed such a morn
+ Had worn a deeper shade:
+ Thy day without a cloud hath passed,[bg]
+ And thou wert lovely to the last;
+ Extinguished, not decayed;
+ As stars that shoot along the sky[bh]
+ Shine brightest as they fall from high.
+
+ 7.
+
+ As once I wept, if I could weep,
+ My tears might well be shed,
+ To think I was not near to keep
+ One vigil o'er thy bed;
+ To gaze, how fondly! on thy face,
+ To fold thee in a faint embrace,
+ Uphold thy drooping head;
+ And show that love, however vain,
+ Nor thou nor I can feel again.
+
+ 8.
+
+ Yet how much less it were to gain,
+ Though thou hast left me free,[bi]
+ The loveliest things that still remain,
+ Than thus remember thee!
+ The all of thine that cannot die
+ Through dark and dread Eternity[bj]
+ Returns again to me,
+ And more thy buried love endears
+ Than aught, except its living years.
+
+ _February_, 1812.
+ [First published, _Childe Harold_, 1812 (Second Edition).]
+
+
+
+ LINES TO A LADY WEEPING.[bk][35]
+
+ Weep, daughter of a royal line,
+ A Sire's disgrace, a realm's decay;
+ Ah! happy if each tear of thine
+ Could wash a Father's fault away!
+ Weep--for thy tears are Virtue's tears--
+ Auspicious to these suffering Isles;
+ And be each drop in future years
+ Repaid thee by thy People's smiles!
+
+ _March_, 1812.
+ [MS. M. First published, _Morning Chronicle_, March 7, 1812
+ (Corsair, 1814, Second Edition).]
+
+
+
+ IF SOMETIMES IN THE HAUNTS OF MEN.[bl]
+
+ 1.
+
+ If sometimes in the haunts of men
+ Thine image from my breast may fade,
+ The lonely hour presents again
+ The semblance of thy gentle shade:
+ And now that sad and silent hour
+ Thus much of thee can still restore,
+ And sorrow unobserved may pour
+ The plaint she dare not speak before.
+
+ 2.
+
+ Oh, pardon that in crowds awhile
+ I waste one thought I owe to thee,
+ And self-condemned, appear to smile,
+ Unfaithful to thy memory:
+ Nor deem that memory less dear,
+ That then I seem not to repine;
+ I would not fools should overhear
+ One sigh that should be wholly _thine_.
+
+ 3.
+
+ If not the Goblet pass unquaffed,
+ It is not drained to banish care;
+ The cup must hold a deadlier draught
+ That brings a Lethe for despair.
+ And could Oblivion set my soul
+ From all her troubled visions free,
+ I'd dash to earth the sweetest bowl
+ That drowned a single thought of thee.
+
+ 4.
+
+ For wert thou vanished from my mind,
+ Where could my vacant bosom turn?
+ And who would then remain behind
+ To honour thine abandoned Urn?
+ No, no--it is my sorrow's pride
+ That last dear duty to fulfil;
+ Though all the world forget beside,
+ 'Tis meet that I remember still.
+
+ 5.
+
+ For well I know, that such had been
+ Thy gentle care for him, who now
+ Unmourned shall quit this mortal scene,
+ Where none regarded him, but thou:
+ And, oh! I feel in _that_ was given
+ A blessing never meant for me;
+ Thou wert too like a dream of Heaven,
+ For earthly Love to merit thee.
+
+ March 14, 1812.
+ [First published, _Childe Harold_, 1812 (Second Edition).]
+
+
+
+ ON A CORNELIAN HEART WHICH WAS BROKEN.[36]
+
+ 1.
+
+ Ill-fated Heart! and can it be,
+ That thou shouldst thus be rent in twain?
+ Have years of care for thine and thee
+ Alike been all employed in vain?
+
+ 2.
+
+ Yet precious seems each shattered part,
+ And every fragment dearer grown,
+ Since he who wears thee feels thou art
+ A fitter emblem of _his own_.
+
+ March 16, 1812.
+ [First published, _Childe Harold_, 1812 (Second Edition).]
+
+
+
+ THE CHAIN I GAVE.
+ FROM THE TURKISH.
+
+ 1.
+
+ The chain I gave was fair to view,
+ The lute I added sweet in sound;
+ The heart that offered both was true,
+ And ill deserved the fate it found.
+
+ 2.
+
+ These gifts were charmed by secret spell,
+ Thy truth in absence to divine;
+ And they have done their duty well,--
+ Alas! they could not teach thee thine.
+
+ 3.
+
+ That chain was firm in every link,
+ But not to bear a stranger's touch;
+ That lute was sweet--till thou couldst think
+ In other hands its notes were such.
+
+ 4.
+
+ Let him who from thy neck unbound
+ The chain which shivered in his grasp,
+ Who saw that lute refuse to sound,
+ Restring the chords, renew the clasp.
+
+ 5.
+
+ When thou wert changed, they altered too;
+ The chain is broke, the music mute,
+ 'Tis past--to them and thee adieu--
+ False heart, frail chain, and silent lute.
+
+ [MS. M. First published, _Corsair_, 1814 (Second Edition).]
+
+
+
+ LINES WRITTEN ON A BLANK LEAF OF
+ _THE PLEASURES OF MEMORY_.[bm]
+
+ 1.
+
+ Absent or present, still to thee,
+ My friend, what magic spells belong!
+ As all can tell, who share, like me,
+ In turn thy converse,[37] and thy song.
+
+ 2.
+
+ But when the dreaded hour shall come
+ By Friendship ever deemed too nigh,
+ And "Memory" o'er her Druid's tomb[38]
+ Shall weep that aught of thee can die,
+
+ 3.
+
+ How fondly will she then repay
+ Thy homage offered at her shrine,
+ And blend, while ages roll away,
+ _Her_ name immortally with _thine_!
+
+ April 19, 1812.
+ [First published, _Poems_, 1816.]
+
+
+
+ ADDRESS, SPOKEN AT THE OPENING OF
+ DRURY-LANE THEATRE,
+ SATURDAY, OCTOBER 10, 1812.[39]
+
+ In one dread night our city saw, and sighed,
+ Bowed to the dust, the Drama's tower of pride;
+ In one short hour beheld the blazing fane,
+ Apollo sink, and Shakespeare cease to reign.
+
+ Ye who beheld, (oh! sight admired and mourned,
+ Whose radiance mocked the ruin it adorned!)
+ Through clouds of fire the massy fragments riven,
+ Like Israel's pillar, chase the night from heaven;
+ Saw the long column of revolving flames
+ Shake its red shadow o'er the startled Thames,[40] 10
+ While thousands, thronged around the burning dome,
+ Shrank back appalled, and trembled for their home,
+ As glared the volumed blaze, and ghastly shone[bn]
+ The skies, with lightnings awful as their own,
+ Till blackening ashes and the lonely wall[bo]
+ Usurped the Muse's realm, and marked her fall;
+ Say--shall this new, nor less aspiring pile,
+ Reared where once rose the mightiest in our isle,
+ Know the same favour which the former knew,
+ A shrine for Shakespeare--worthy him and _you_? 20
+
+ Yes--it shall be--the magic of that name
+ Defies the scythe of time, the torch of flame;[bp]
+ On the same spot still consecrates the scene,
+ And bids the Drama _be_ where she hath _been_:
+ This fabric's birth attests the potent spell----
+ Indulge our honest pride, and say, _How well_!
+
+ As soars this fane to emulate the last,
+ Oh! might we draw our omens from the past,
+ Some hour propitious to our prayers may boast
+ Names such as hallow still the dome we lost. 30
+ On Drury first your Siddons' thrilling art
+ O'erwhelmed the gentlest, stormed the sternest heart.
+ On Drury, Garrick's latest laurels grew;
+ Here your last tears retiring Roscius drew,
+ Sighed his last thanks, and wept his last adieu:
+ But still for living wit the wreaths may bloom,
+ That only waste their odours o'er the tomb.
+ Such Drury claimed and claims--nor you refuse
+ One tribute to revive his slumbering muse;
+ With garlands deck your own Menander's head, 40
+ Nor hoard your honours idly for the dead![bq]
+ Dear are the days which made our annals bright,
+ Ere Garrick fled, or Brinsley[41] ceased to write[br]
+ Heirs to their labours, like all high-born heirs,
+ Vain of _our_ ancestry as they of _theirs_;
+ While thus Remembrance borrows Banquo's glass
+ To claim the sceptred shadows as they pass,
+ And we the mirror hold, where imaged shine
+ Immortal names, emblazoned on our line,
+ Pause--ere their feebler offspring you condemn, 50
+ Reflect how hard the task to rival them!
+
+ Friends of the stage! to whom both Players and Plays
+ Must sue alike for pardon or for praise,
+ Whose judging voice and eye alone direct
+ The boundless power to cherish or reject;
+ If e'er frivolity has led to fame,
+ And made us blush that you forbore to blame--
+ If e'er the sinking stage could condescend
+ To soothe the sickly taste it dare not mend--
+ All past reproach may present scenes refute, 60
+ And censure, wisely loud, be justly mute![42]
+ Oh! since your fiat stamps the Drama's laws,
+ Forbear to mock us with misplaced applause;
+ So Pride shall doubly nerve the actor's powers,
+ And Reason's voice be echoed back by ours!
+
+ This greeting o'er--the ancient rule obeyed,[43]
+ The Drama's homage by her herald paid--
+ Receive _our welcome_ too--whose every tone
+ Springs from our hearts, and fain would win your own.
+ The curtain rises--may our stage unfold 70
+ Scenes not unworthy Drury's days of old!
+ Britons our judges, Nature for our guide,
+ Still may _we_ please--long, long may _you_ preside.
+
+ [First published, _Morning Chronicle_, Oct. 12, 1812.]
+
+
+
+ PARENTHETICAL ADDRESS.[44]
+
+ BY DR. PLAGIARY.
+
+ _Half stolen_, with acknowledgments, to be spoken in an
+ inarticulate voice by Master ---- at the opening of the next
+ new theatre. [Stolen parts marked with the inverted commas of
+ quotation--thus "----".]
+
+ "When energising objects men pursue,"
+ Then Lord knows what is writ by Lord knows who.
+ A modest Monologue you here survey,
+ Hissed from the theatre the "other day,"
+ As if Sir Fretful wrote "the slumberous" verse,
+ And gave his son "the rubbish" to rehearse.
+ "Yet at the thing you'd never be amazed,"
+ Knew you the rumpus which the Author raised;
+ "Nor even here your smiles would be represt,"
+ Knew you these lines--the badness of the best, 10
+ "Flame! fire! and flame!" (words borrowed from Lucretius.[45])
+ "Dread metaphors" which open wounds like issues!
+ "And sleeping pangs awake--and----But away"--
+ (Confound me if I know what next to say).
+ Lo "Hope reviving re-expands her wings,"
+ And Master G---- recites what Dr. Busby sings!--
+ "If mighty things with small we may compare,"
+ (Translated from the Grammar for the fair!)
+ Dramatic "spirit drives a conquering car,"
+ And burn'd poor Moscow like a tub of "tar." 20
+ "This spirit" "Wellington has shown in Spain,"
+ To furnish Melodrames for Drury Lane.
+ "Another Marlborough points to Blenheim's story,"
+ And George and I will dramatise it for ye.
+
+ "In Arts and Sciences our Isle hath shone"
+ (This deep discovery is mine alone).
+ Oh "British poesy, whose powers inspire"
+ My verse--or I'm a fool--and Fame's a liar,
+ "Thee we invoke, your Sister Arts implore"
+ With "smiles," and "lyres," and "pencils," and much more. 30
+ These, if we win the Graces, too, we gain
+ _Disgraces_, too! "inseparable train!"
+ "Three who have stolen their witching airs from Cupid"
+ (You all know what I mean, unless you're stupid):
+ "Harmonious throng" that I have kept _in petto_
+ Now to produce in a "divine _sestetto_"!!
+ "While Poesy," with these delightful doxies,
+ "Sustains her part" in all the "upper" boxes!
+ "Thus lifted gloriously, you'll sweep along,"
+ Borne in the vast balloon of Busby's song; 40
+ "Shine in your farce, masque, scenery, and play"
+ (For this last line George had a holiday).
+ "Old Drury never, never soar'd so high,"
+ So says the Manager, and so say I.
+ "But hold," you say, "this self-complacent boast;"
+ Is this the Poem which the public lost?
+ "True--true--that lowers at once our mounting pride;"
+ But lo;--the Papers print what you deride.
+ "'Tis ours to look on _you_--_you_ hold the prize,"
+ 'Tis _twenty guineas_, as they advertise! 50
+ "A _double_ blessing your rewards impart"--
+ I wish I had them, then, with all my heart.
+ "Our _twofold_ feeling _owns_ its twofold cause,"
+ Why son and I both beg for your applause.
+ "When in your fostering beams you bid us live,"
+ My next subscription list shall say how much you give!
+
+ [First published, _Morning Chronicle_, October 23, 1812.]
+
+
+
+ VERSES FOUND IN A SUMMER-HOUSE AT HALES-OWEN.[46]
+
+ When Dryden's fool, "unknowing what he sought,"
+ His hours in whistling spent, "for want of thought,"[47]
+ This guiltless oaf his vacancy of sense
+ Supplied, and amply too, by innocence:
+ Did modern swains, possessed of Cymon's powers,
+ In Cymon's manner waste their leisure hours,
+ Th' offended guests would not, with blushing, see
+ These fair green walks disgraced by infamy.
+ Severe the fate of modern fools, alas!
+ When vice and folly mark them as they pass.
+ Like noxious reptiles o'er the whitened wall,
+ The filth they leave still points out where they crawl.
+
+ [First published, 1832, vol. xvii.]
+
+
+
+ REMEMBER THEE! REMEMBER THEE![48]
+
+ 1.
+
+ Remember thee! remember thee!
+ Till Lethe quench life's burning stream
+ Remorse and Shame shall cling to thee,
+ And haunt thee like a feverish dream!
+
+ 2.
+
+ Remember thee! Aye, doubt it not.
+ Thy husband too shall think of thee:
+ By neither shalt thou be forgot,
+ Thou _false_ to him, thou _fiend_ to me![49]
+
+ [First published, _Conversations of Lord Byron_, 1824.]
+
+
+
+ TO TIME.
+
+ Time! on whose arbitrary wing
+ The varying hours must flag or fly,
+ Whose tardy winter, fleeting spring,
+ But drag or drive us on to die--
+ Hail thou! who on my birth bestowed
+ Those boons to all that know thee known;
+ Yet better I sustain thy load,
+ For now I bear the weight alone.
+ I would not one fond heart should share
+ The bitter moments thou hast given;
+ And pardon thee--since thou couldst spare
+ All that I loved, to peace or Heaven.
+ To them be joy or rest--on me
+ Thy future ills shall press in vain;
+ I nothing owe but years to thee,
+ A debt already paid in pain.
+ Yet even that pain was some relief;
+ It felt, but still forgot thy power:[bs]
+ The active agony of grief
+ Retards, but never counts the hour.[bt]
+ In joy I've sighed to think thy flight
+ Would soon subside from swift to slow;
+ Thy cloud could overcast the light,
+ But could not add a night to Woe;
+ For then, however drear and dark,
+ My soul was suited to thy sky;
+ One star alone shot forth a spark
+ To prove thee--not Eternity.
+ That beam hath sunk--and now thou art
+ A blank--a thing to count and curse
+ Through each dull tedious trifling part,
+ Which all regret, yet all rehearse.
+ One scene even thou canst not deform--
+ The limit of thy sloth or speed
+ When future wanderers bear the storm
+ Which we shall sleep too sound to heed.
+ And I can smile to think how weak
+ Thine efforts shortly shall be shown,
+ When all the vengeance thou canst wreak
+ Must fall upon--a nameless stone.
+
+ [MS. M. First published, _Childe Harold_, 1814 (Seventh Edition).]
+
+
+
+ TRANSLATION OF A ROMAIC LOVE SONG.
+
+ 1.
+
+ Ah! Love was never yet without
+ The pang, the agony, the doubt,
+ Which rends my heart with ceaseless sigh,
+ While day and night roll darkling by.
+
+ 2.
+
+ Without one friend to hear my woe,
+ I faint, I die beneath the blow.
+ That Love had arrows, well I knew,
+ Alas! I find them poisoned too.
+
+ 3.
+
+ Birds, yet in freedom, shun the net
+ Which Love around your haunts hath set;
+ Or, circled by his fatal fire,
+ Your hearts shall burn, your hopes expire.
+
+ 4.
+
+ A bird of free and careless wing
+ Was I, through many a smiling spring;
+ But caught within the subtle snare,
+ I burn, and feebly flutter there.
+
+ 5.
+
+ Who ne'er have loved, and loved in vain,
+ Can neither feel nor pity pain,
+ The cold repulse, the look askance,
+ The lightning of Love's angry glance.
+
+ 6.
+
+ In flattering dreams I deemed thee mine;
+ Now hope, and he who hoped, decline;
+ Like melting wax, or withering flower,
+ I feel my passion, and thy power.
+
+ 7.
+
+ My light of Life! ah, tell me why
+ That pouting lip, and altered eye?
+ My bird of Love! my beauteous mate!
+ And art thou changed, and canst thou hate?
+
+ 8.
+
+ Mine eyes like wintry streams o'erflow:
+ What wretch with me would barter woe?
+ My bird! relent: one note could give
+ A charm to bid thy lover live.
+
+ 9.
+
+ My curdling blood, my madd'ning brain,
+ In silent anguish I sustain;
+ And still thy heart, without partaking
+ One pang, exults--while mine is breaking.
+
+ 10.
+
+ Pour me the poison; fear not thou!
+ Thou canst not murder more than now:
+ I've lived to curse my natal day,
+ And Love, that thus can lingering slay.
+
+ 11.
+
+ My wounded soul, my bleeding breast,
+ Can patience preach thee into rest?
+ Alas! too late, I dearly know
+ That Joy is harbinger of Woe.
+
+ [First published, _Childe Harold_, 1814 (Seventh Edition).]
+
+
+
+ THOU ART NOT FALSE, BUT THOU ART FICKLE.[bu][50]
+
+ 1.
+
+ Thou art not false, but thou art fickle,
+ To those thyself so fondly sought;
+ The tears that thou hast forced to trickle
+ Are doubly bitter from that thought:
+ 'Tis this which breaks the heart thou grievest,
+ _Too well_ thou lov'st--_too soon_ thou leavest.
+
+ 2.
+
+ The wholly false the _heart_ despises,
+ And spurns deceiver and deceit;
+ But she who not a thought disguises,[bv]
+ Whose love is as sincere as sweet,--
+ When _she_ can change who loved so truly,
+ It _feels_ what mine has _felt_ so newly.
+
+ 3.
+
+ To dream of joy and wake to sorrow
+ Is doomed to all who love or live;
+ And if, when conscious on the morrow,
+ We scarce our Fancy can forgive,
+ That cheated us in slumber only,
+ To leave the waking soul more lonely,
+
+ 4.
+
+ What must they feel whom no false vision
+ But truest, tenderest Passion warmed?
+ Sincere, but swift in sad transition:
+ As if a dream alone had charmed?
+ Ah! sure such _grief_ is _Fancy's_ scheming,
+ And all thy _Change_ can be but _dreaming!_
+
+ [MS. M. First published, _Childe Harold_, 1814 (Seventh Edition).]
+
+
+
+ ON BEING ASKED WHAT WAS THE "ORIGIN OF LOVE."[bw]
+
+ The "Origin of Love!"--Ah, why
+ That cruel question ask of me,
+ When thou mayst read in many an eye
+ He starts to life on seeing thee?
+ And shouldst thou seek his _end_ to know:
+ My heart forebodes, my fears foresee,
+ He'll linger long in silent woe;
+ But live until--I cease to be.
+
+ [First published, _Childe Harold_, 1814 (Seventh Edition).]
+
+
+
+ ON THE QUOTATION,
+
+ "And my true faith can alter never,
+ Though thou art gone perhaps for ever."
+
+ 1.
+
+ And "thy true faith can alter never?"--
+ Indeed it lasted for a--week!
+ I know the length of Love's forever,
+ And just expected such a freak.
+ In peace we met, in peace we parted,
+ In peace we vowed to meet again,
+ And though I find thee fickle-hearted
+ No pang of mine shall make thee vain.
+
+ 2.
+
+ One gone--'twas time to seek a second;
+ In sooth 'twere hard to blame thy haste.
+ And whatsoe'er thy love be reckoned,
+ At least thou hast improved in taste:
+ Though one was young, the next was younger,
+ His love was new, mine too well known--
+ And what might make the charm still stronger,
+ The youth was present, I was flown.
+
+ 3.
+
+ Seven days and nights of single sorrow!
+ Too much for human constancy!
+ A fortnight past, why then to-morrow,
+ His turn is come to follow me:
+ And if each week you change a lover,
+ And so have acted heretofore,
+ Before a year or two is over
+ We'll form a very pretty _corps_.
+
+ 4.
+
+ Adieu, fair thing! without upbraiding
+ I fain would take a decent leave;
+ Thy beauty still survives unfading,
+ And undeceived may long deceive.
+ With him unto thy bosom dearer
+ Enjoy the moments as they flee;
+ I only wish his love sincerer
+ Than thy young heart has been to me.
+
+ 1812.
+ [From a MS. in the possession of Mr. Murray,
+ now for the first time printed.]
+
+
+
+ REMEMBER HIM, WHOM PASSION'S POWER.[51]
+
+ 1.
+
+ Remember him, whom Passion's power
+ Severely--deeply--vainly proved:
+ Remember thou that dangerous hour,
+ When neither fell, though both were loved.[bx]
+
+ 2.
+
+ That yielding breast, that melting eye,[by]
+ Too much invited to be blessed:
+ That gentle prayer, that pleading sigh,
+ The wilder wish reproved, repressed.
+
+ 3.
+
+ Oh! let me feel that all I lost[bz]
+ But saved thee all that Conscience fears;
+ And blush for every pang it cost
+ To spare the vain remorse of years.
+
+ 4.
+
+ Yet think of this when many a tongue,
+ Whose busy accents whisper blame,
+ Would do the heart that loved thee wrong,
+ And brand a nearly blighted name.[ca]
+
+ 5.
+
+ Think that, whate'er to others, thou
+ Hast seen each selfish thought subdued:
+ I bless thy purer soul even now,
+ Even now, in midnight solitude.
+
+ 6.
+
+ Oh, God! that we had met in time,
+ Our hearts as fond, thy hand more free;
+ When thou hadst loved without a crime,
+ And I been less unworthy thee![cb]
+
+ 7.
+
+ Far may thy days, as heretofore,[cc]
+ From this our gaudy world be past!
+ And that too bitter moment o'er,
+ Oh! may such trial be thy last.
+
+ 8.
+
+ This heart, alas! perverted long,
+ Itself destroyed might there destroy;
+ To meet thee in the glittering throng,
+ Would wake Presumption's hope of joy.[cd]
+
+ 9.
+
+ Then to the things whose bliss or woe,
+ Like mine, is wild and worthless all,
+ That world resign--such scenes forego,
+ Where those who feel must surely fall.
+
+ 10.
+
+ Thy youth, thy charms, thy tenderness--
+ Thy soul from long seclusion pure;
+ From what even here hath passed, may guess
+ What there thy bosom must endure.
+
+ 11.
+
+ Oh! pardon that imploring tear,
+ Since not by Virtue shed in vain,
+ My frenzy drew from eyes so dear;
+ For me they shall not weep again.
+
+ 12.
+
+ Though long and mournful must it be,
+ The thought that we no more may meet;
+ Yet I deserve the stern decree,
+ And almost deem the sentence sweet.
+
+ 13.
+
+ Still--had I loved thee less--my heart
+ Had then less sacrificed to thine;
+ It felt not half so much to part
+ As if its guilt had made thee mine.
+
+ 1813.
+ [MS. M. First published, _Childe Harold_, 1814 (Seventh Edition).]
+
+
+
+ IMPROMPTU, IN REPLY TO A FRIEND.[52]
+
+ When, from the heart where Sorrow sits,
+ Her dusky shadow mounts too high,
+ And o'er the changing aspect flits,
+ And clouds the brow, or fills the eye;
+ Heed not that gloom, which soon shall sink:
+ My Thoughts their dungeon know too well;
+ Back to my breast the Wanderers shrink,
+ And _droop_ within their silent cell.[ce]
+
+ _September_, 1813.
+ [MS. M. first published, _Childe Harold_, 1814 (Seventh Edition).]
+
+
+
+ SONNET.
+
+ TO GENEVRA.
+
+ Thine eyes' blue tenderness, thy long fair hair,
+ And the warm lustre of thy features--caught
+ From contemplation--where serenely wrought,
+ Seems Sorrow's softness charmed from its despair--
+ Have thrown such speaking sadness in thine air,
+ That--but I know thy blessed bosom fraught
+ With mines of unalloyed and stainless thought--
+ I should have deemed thee doomed to earthly care.
+ With such an aspect, by his colours blent,
+ When from his beauty-breathing pencil born,
+ (Except that _thou_ hast nothing to repent)
+ The Magdalen of Guido saw the morn--
+ Such seem'st thou--but how much more excellent!
+ With nought Remorse can claim--nor Virtue scorn.
+
+ _December_ 17, 1813.[53]
+ [MS. M. First published, _Corsair_, 1814 (Second Edition).]
+
+
+
+ SONNET.
+
+ TO GENEVRA.
+
+ Thy cheek is pale with thought, but not from woe,[cf]
+ And yet so lovely, that if Mirth could flush
+ Its rose of whiteness with the brightest blush,
+ My heart would wish away that ruder glow:
+ And dazzle not thy deep-blue eyes--but, oh!
+ While gazing on them sterner eyes will gush,
+ And into mine my mother's weakness rush,
+ Soft as the last drops round Heaven's airy bow.
+ For, through thy long dark lashes low depending,
+ The soul of melancholy Gentleness
+ Gleams like a Seraph from the sky descending,
+ Above all pain, yet pitying all distress;
+ At once such majesty with sweetness blending,
+ I worship more, but cannot love thee less.
+
+ _December_ 17, 1813.
+ [MS. M. First published, _Corsair_, 1814 (Second Edition).]
+
+
+
+ FROM THE PORTUGUESE.
+
+ "TU MI CHAMAS"
+
+ 1.
+
+ In moments to delight devoted,[54]
+ "My Life!" with tenderest tone, you cry;
+ Dear words! on which my heart had doted,
+ If Youth could neither fade nor die.
+
+ 2.
+
+ To Death even hours like these must roll,
+ Ah! then repeat those accents never;
+ Or change "my Life!" into "my Soul!"
+ Which, like my Love, exists for ever.
+
+ [MS. M.]
+
+ ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+ You call me still your _Life_.--Oh! change the word--
+ Life is as transient as the inconstant sigh:
+ Say rather I'm your Soul; more just that name,
+ For, like the soul, my Love can never die.
+
+ [Stanzas 1, 2 first published, _Childe Harold_, 1814
+ (Seventh Edition). "Another Version," first published, 1832.]
+
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[1] [These stanzas were inserted in the first draft of the First Canto
+of _Childe Harold_, after the eighty-sixth stanza. "The struggle 'gainst
+the Demon's sway" (see stanza lxxxiv.) had, apparently, resulted in
+victory, for the "unpremeditated lay" poured forth at the time betrays
+the youth and high spirits of the singer. But the inconsistency was
+detected in time, and the lines, _To Inez_, dated January 25, 1810, with
+their "touches of dreariest sadness," were substituted for the simple
+and cheerful strains of _The Girl of Cadiz_ (see _Poetical Works_, 1899,
+ii. 75, note 1; _Life_, p. 151).]
+
+[a] {1} _For thou hast never lived to see_.--[MS. M. erased.]
+
+[b] {2} _The Saxon maids_----.--[MS. M.]
+
+[2] [Compare _Childe Harold_, Canto I. stanza lviii. lines 8, 9,
+_Poetical Works_, 1899, ii. 59, note 1.]
+
+[3] {3} [For "Bolero," see _Poetical Works_, 1898, i. 492, note 1.]
+
+[c]
+ _Or tells with light and fairy hand_
+ _Her beads beneath the rays of Hesper_.--[MS. M. erased.]
+
+[d] ----_the lovely Girl of Cadiz_.--[MS. M.]
+
+[e] {4} _Written in an Album_.--[Editions 1812-1831.]
+_Written in Mrs. Spencer S.'s_----.--[MS. M. erased]
+_Written at the request of a lady in her memorandum book_.--[MS. B. M.]
+"_Mrs. S. S.'s request_."--[Erased. MS. B.M.]
+
+[4] [The possessor of the album was, doubtless, Mrs. Spencer Smith, the
+"Lady" of the lines _To Florence_, "the sweet Florence" of the _Stanzas
+composed during a Thunderstorm_, and of the _Stanzas written in passing
+through the Ambracian Gulf_, and, finally, when "The Spell is broke, the
+Charm is flown," the "fair Florence" of stanzas xxxii., xxxiii. of the
+Second Canto of _Childe Harold_. In a letter to his mother, dated
+September 15, 1809, Byron writes, "This letter is committed to the
+charge of a very extraordinary woman, whom you have doubtless heard of,
+Mrs. Spencer Smith, of whose escape the Marquis de Salvo published a
+narrative a few years ago (_Travels in the Year 1806, from Italy to
+England through the Tyrol, etc., containing the particulars of the
+liberation of Mrs. Spencer Smith from the hands of the French Police_,
+London: 12mo, 1807). She has since been shipwrecked, and her life has
+been from its commencement so fertile in remarkable incidents, that in a
+romance they would appear improbable. She was born at Constantinople
+[_circ._ 1785], where her father, Baron Herbert, was Austrian
+Ambassador; married unhappily, yet has never been impeached in point of
+character; excited the vengeance of Buonaparte by a part in some
+conspiracy; several times risked her life; and is not yet twenty-five."
+
+John Spencer Smith, the "Lady's" husband, was a younger brother of
+Admiral Sir Sidney Smith, the hero of the siege of Acre. He began life
+as a Page of Honour to Queen Charlotte, was, afterwards, attached to the
+Turkish Embassy, and (May 4, 1798) appointed Minister Plenipotentiary.
+On January 5, 1799, he concluded the treaty of defensive alliance with
+the Porte; and, October 30, 1799, obtained the freedom of the Black Sea
+for the English flag (see _Remains of the late John Tweddell_. London:
+1815. See, too, for Mrs. Spencer Smith, _Letters_, 1898, i. 244, 245,
+note 1).]
+
+[f] {5} _To_----.--[Editions 1812-1832.]
+
+[g] {6} _Through giant Danger's rugged path_.--[MS. M.]
+
+[h] {7} _Stanzas_--[1812.]
+
+[5] Composed Oct^r. 11, 1809, during the night in a thunderstorm, when
+the guides had lost the road to Zitza, near the range of mountains
+formerly called Pindus, in Albania. [Editions 1812-1831.]
+
+[This thunderstorm occurred during the night of the 11th October, 1809,
+when Lord Byron's guides had lost the road to Zitza, near the range of
+mountains formerly called Pindus, in Albania. Hobhouse, who had ridden
+on before the rest of the party, and arrived at Zitza just as the
+evening set in, describes the thunder as rolling "without
+intermission--the echoes of one peal had not ceased to roll in the
+mountains, before another tremendous crash burst over our heads, whilst
+the plains and the distant hills, visible through the cracks in the
+cabin, appeared in a perpetual blaze. The tempest was altogether
+terrific, and worthy of the Grecian Jove. Lord Byron, with the priest
+and the servants, did not enter our hut before three (in the morning). I
+now learnt from him that they had lost their way, ... and that after
+wandering up and down in total ignorance of their position, had, at
+last, stopped near some Turkish tombstones and a torrent, which they saw
+by the flashes of lightning. They had been thus exposed for nine
+hours.... It was long before we ceased to talk of the thunderstorm in the
+plain of Zitza."--_Travels in Albania_, 1858, i. 70, 72; _Childe
+Harold_, Canto II. stanza xlviii., _Poetical Works_, 1899, ii. 129, note
+1.]
+
+[i] {11} _Stanzas._--[1812.]
+
+[j] {12} _Had Bards but realms along with rhymes_.--[MS. M.]
+
+[k] _Again we'd see some Antonies_.--[MS. M.]
+
+[l] _Though Jove_----.--[MS. M.]
+
+[6] [Compare [_A Woman's Hair_] stanza 1, line 4, "I would not lose you
+for a world."--_Poetical Works_, 1898, i. 233.]
+
+[m] _Written at Athens_.--[1812.]
+
+[7] {13} On the 3rd of May, 1810, while the _Salsette_ (Captain
+Bathurst) was lying in the Dardanelles, Lieutenant Ekenhead, of that
+frigate, and the writer of these rhymes, swam from the European shore to
+the Asiatic--by the by, from Abydos to Sestos would have been more
+correct. The whole distance, from the place whence we started to our
+landing on the other side, including the length we were carried by the
+current, was computed by those on board the frigate at upwards of four
+English miles, though the actual breadth is barely one. The rapidity of
+the current is such that no boat can row directly across, and it may, in
+some measure, be estimated from the circumstance of the whole distance
+being accomplished by one of the parties in an hour and five, and by the
+other in an hour and ten minutes. The water was extremely cold, from the
+melting of the mountain snows. About three weeks before, in April, we
+had made an attempt; but having ridden all the way from the Troad the
+same morning, and the water being of an icy chillness, we found it
+necessary to postpone the completion till the frigate anchored below the
+castles, when we swam the straits as just stated, entering a
+considerable way above the European, and landing below the Asiatic,
+fort. [Le] Chevalier says that a young Jew swam the same distance for
+his mistress; and Olivier mentions its having been done by a Neapolitan;
+but our consul, Tarragona, remembered neither of these circumstances,
+and tried to dissuade us from the attempt. A number of the _Salsette's_
+crew were known to have accomplished a greater distance; and the only
+thing that surprised me was that, as doubts had been entertained of the
+truth of Leander's story, no traveller had ever endeavoured to ascertain
+its practicability. [See letter to Drury, dated May 3; to his mother,
+May 24, 1810, etc. (_Letters_, 1898, i. 262, 275). Compare the
+well-known lines in _Don Juan_, Canto II. stanza cv.--
+
+ "A better swimmer you could scarce see ever,
+ He could perhaps have passed the Hellespont,
+ As once (a feat on which ourselves we prided)
+ Leander, Mr. Ekenhead, and I did."
+
+Compare, too, _Childe Harold_, Canto IV. stanza clxxxiv. line 3, and the
+_Bride of Abydos_, Canto II. stanza i.: _Poetical Works_, 1899, ii. 461,
+note 2, _et post_, p. 178.]
+
+[8] {14} [Hobhouse, who records the first attempt to cross the
+Hellespont, on April 16, and the successful achievement of the feat, May
+3, 1810, adds the following note: "In my journal, in my friend's
+handwriting: 'The whole distance E. and myself swam was more than four
+miles--the current very strong and cold--some large fish near us when
+half across--we were not fatigued, but a little chilled--did it with
+little difficulty.--May, 6, 1810. Byron.'"--_Travels in Albania_, ii.
+195.]
+
+[9] {15} ["At Orchomenus, where stood the Temple of the Graces, I was
+tempted to exclaim, 'Whither have the Graces fled?' Little did I expect
+to find them here. Yet here comes one of them with golden cups and
+coffee, and another with a book. The book is a register of names....
+Among these is Lord Byron's connected with some lines which I shall send
+you: 'Fair Albion,' etc." (See _Travels in Italy, Greece, etc._, by H. W.
+Williams, ii. 290, 291; _Life_, p. 101.)]
+
+[n] _Song_.--[1812.]
+
+[10] [The Maid of Athens was, it is supposed, the eldest of three
+sisters, daughters of Theodora Macri, the widow of a former English
+vice-consul. Byron and Hobhouse lodged at her house. The sisters were
+sought out and described by the artist, Hugh W. Williams, who visited
+Athens in May, 1817: "Theresa, the Maid of Athens, Catinco, and Mariana,
+are of middle stature.... The two eldest have black, or dark hair and
+eyes; their visage oval, and complexion somewhat pale, with teeth of
+pearly whiteness. Their cheeks are rounded, their noses straight, rather
+inclined to aquiline. The youngest, Mariana, is very fair, her face not
+so finely rounded, but has a gayer expression than her sisters', whose
+countenances, except when the conversation has something of mirth in it,
+may be said to be rather pensive. Their persons are elegant, and their
+manners pleasing and lady-like, such as would be fascinating in any
+country. They possess very considerable powers of conversation, and
+their minds seem to be more instructed than those of the Greek women in
+general."--_Travels in Italy, Greece, etc._, ii. 291, 292.
+
+Other travellers, Hughes, who visited Athens in 1813, and Walsh
+(_Narrative of a Resident in Constantinople_, i. 122), who saw Theresa
+in 1821, found her charming and interesting, but speak of her beauty as
+a thing of the past. "She married an Englishman named Black, employed in
+H.M. Consular Service at Mesolonghi. She survived her husband and fell
+into great poverty.... Theresa Black died October 15, 1875, aged 80
+years." (See _Letters_, 1898, i. 269, 270, note 1; and _Life_, p. 105,
+note.)
+
+"Maid of Athens" is possibly the best-known of Byron's short poems, all
+over the English-speaking world. This is no doubt due in part to its
+having been set to music by about half a dozen composers--the latest of
+whom was Gounod.]
+
+[11] {16} Romaic expression of tenderness. If I translate it, I shall
+affront the gentlemen, as it may seem that I supposed they could not;
+and if I do not, I may affront the ladies. For fear of any
+misconstruction on the part of the latter, I shall do so, begging pardon
+of the learned. It means, "My life, I love you!" which sounds very
+prettily in all languages, and is as much in fashion in Greece at this
+day as, Juvenal tells us, the two first words were amongst the Roman
+ladies, whose erotic expressions were all Hellenised. [The reference is
+to the [Greek: Zôê/ kai\ Psychê\] of Roman courtesans. _Vide_ Juvenal,
+lib. ii., _Sat._ vi. line 195; Martial, _Epig._ x. 68. 5.]
+
+[12] {17} In the East (where ladies are not taught to write, lest they
+should scribble assignations), flowers, cinders, pebbles, etc., convey
+the sentiments of the parties, by that universal deputy of Mercury--an
+old woman. A cinder says, "I burn for thee;" a bunch of flowers tied
+with hair, "Take me and fly;" but a pebble declares--what nothing else
+can. [Compare _The Bride of Abydos_, line 295--
+
+ "What! not receive my foolish flower?"
+
+See, too, Medwin's story of "one of the principal incidents in _The
+Giaour_." "I was in despair, and could hardly contrive to get a cinder,
+or a token-flower sent to express it."--_Conversations of Lord Byron_,
+1824, p. 122.]
+
+[13] Constantinople. [Compare--
+
+ "Tho' I am parted, yet my mind
+ That's more than self still stays behind."
+
+ _Poems_, by Thomas Carew, ed. 1640, p. 36.]
+
+[14] {18} [Given to the Hon. Roden Noel by S. McCalmont Hill, who
+inherited it from his great-grandfather, Robert Dallas. No date or
+occasion of the piece has been recorded.--_Life of Lord Byron_, 1890, p.
+5.]
+
+[15] {19} [These lines are copied from a leaf of the original MS. of the
+Second Canto of _Childe Harold_. They are headed, "Lines written beneath
+the Picture of J.U.D."
+
+In a curious work of doubtful authority, entitled, _The Life, Writings,
+Opinions and Times of the Right Hon. G. G. Noel Byron_, London, 1825
+(iii. 123-132), there is a long and circumstantial narrative of a
+"defeated" attempt of Byron's to rescue a Georgian girl, whom he had
+bought in the slave-market for 800 piastres, from a life of shame and
+degradation. It is improbable that these verses suggested the story;
+and, on the other hand, the story, if true, does afford some clue to the
+verses.]
+
+[16] {20} The son [Greek: Deu~te pai~des,] etc., was written by Riga,
+who perished in the attempt to revolutionize Greece. This translation is
+as literal as the author could make it in verse. It is of the same
+measure as that of the original. [For the original, see _Poetical
+Works_, 1891, Appendix, p. 792. For Constantine Rhigas, see _Poetical
+Works_, 1899, ii. 199, note 2. Hobhouse (_Travels in Albania_, 1858, ii.
+3) prints a version (Byron told Murray that it was "well enough,"
+_Letters_, 1899, iii. 13) of [Greek: Deu~te pai~des,] of his own
+composition. He explains in a footnote that the metre is "a mixed
+trochaic, except the chorus." "This song," he adds, "the chorus
+particularly, is sung to a tune very nearly the same as the Marseillois
+Hymn. Strangely enough, Lord Byron, in his translation, has entirely
+mistaken the metre." The first stanza runs as follows:--
+
+ "Greeks arise! the day of glory
+ Comes at last your swords to claim.
+ Let us all in future story
+ Rival our forefathers' fame.
+ Underfoot the yoke of tyrants
+ Let us now indignant trample,
+ Mindful of the great example,
+ And avenge our country's shame."]
+
+[17] {21} Constantinople. "[Greek: Heptalophos]."
+
+[18] {22} The song from which this is taken is a great favourite with
+the young girls of Athens of all classes. Their manner of singing it is
+by verses in rotation, the whole number present joining in the chorus. I
+have heard it frequently at our [Greek: "cho/roi"] in the winter of
+1810-11. The air is plaintive and pretty.
+
+[o] {23} _Has bound my soul to thee_----[MS. M.]
+
+[p] _When wandering forth alone_----[MS. M.]
+
+[q] {24}
+ _Oh! what can tongue or pen avail_
+ _Unless my heart could speak_.--[MS. M.]
+
+[19] [These lines, which are undoubtedly genuine, were published for the
+first time in the sixth edition of _Poems on his Domestic Circumstances_
+(W. Hone, 1816). They were first included by Murray in the collected
+_Poetical Works_, in vol. xvii., 1832.]
+
+[20] ["The principal streets of the city of Valetta are flights of
+stairs."--_Gazetteer of the World_.]
+
+[21] {25} [Major-General Hildebrand Oakes (1754-1822) succeeded Admiral
+Sir Richard Goodwin Keates as "his Majesty's commissioner for the
+affairs of Malta," April 27, 1810. There was an outbreak of plague
+during his tenure of office (1810-13).--_Annual Register_, 1810, p. 320;
+_Dict. Nat. Biog._, art. "Oakes."]
+
+[22] ["Lord Byron ... was once _rather near_ fighting a duel--and that
+was with an officer of the staff of General Oakes at Malta"
+(1809).--_Westminster Review_, January, 1825, iii. 21 (by J. C.
+Hobhouse). (See, too, _Life_ (First Edition, 1830, 4to), i. 202, 222.)]
+
+[23] [On March 13, 1811, Captain (Sir William) Hoste (1780-1828)
+defeated a combined French and Italian squadron off the island of Lissa,
+on the Dalmatian coast. "The French commodore's ship _La Favorite_ was
+burnt, himself (Dubourdieu) being killed." The four victorious frigates
+with their prizes arrived at Malta, March 31, when the garrison "ran out
+unarmed to receive and hail them." The _Volage_, in which Byron returned
+to England, took part in the engagement. Captain Hoste had taken a prize
+off Fiume in the preceding year.--_Annual Register_, 1811; _Memoirs and
+Letters of Sir W. Hoste_, ii. 79.]
+
+[24] {26} ["We have had balls and fetes given us by all classes here,
+and it is impossible to convey to you the sensation our success has
+given rise to."--_Memoirs and Letters of Sir W. Hoste_, ii. 82.]
+
+[25] [Mrs. (Susan) Fraser published, in 1809, "_Camilla de Florian_ (the
+scene is laid in Valetta) _and Other Poems._ By an Officer's Wife."
+Byron was, no doubt, struck by her admiration for Macpherson's _Ossian_,
+and had read with interest her version of "The Address to the Sun," in
+_Carthon_, p. 31 (see _Poetical Works_, 1898, i. 229). He may, too, have
+regarded with favour some stanzas in honour of the _Bolero_ (p. 82),
+which begin, "When, my Love, supinely _laying_."]
+
+[26] {27} [Byron left Malta for England June 13, 1811. (See Letter to H.
+Drury, July 17, 1811, _Letters_, 1898, i. 318.)]
+
+[r] {28} _And mine was the pride and the worth of a name_--[MS. M.]
+
+[s] _It tells not of time_----.--[MS. M.]
+
+[27] Francis Hodgson.
+
+[28] {30} [Hodgson stipulated that the last twelve lines should be
+omitted, but Moore disregarded his wishes, and included the poem as it
+stands in his _Life_. A marginal note ran thus: "N.B. The poor dear soul
+meant nothing of this. F.H."--_Memoir of Rev. Francis Hodgson_, 1878, i.
+212.]
+
+[t] _On the death of----Thyrza_.--[MS.]
+
+[29] [The following note on the identity of Thyrza has been communicated
+to the Editor:--
+
+ "The identity of Thyrza and the question whether the person
+ addressed under this name really existed, or was an imaginary
+ being, have given rise to much speculation and discussion of a more
+ or less futile kind.
+
+ "This difficulty is now incapable of definite and authoritative
+ solution, and the allusions in the verses in some respects disagree
+ with things said by Lord Byron later. According to the poems,
+ Thyrza had met him
+
+ "' ... many a day
+ In these, to me, deserted towers.'
+ (Newstead, October 11, 1811.)
+
+ "'When stretched on fever's sleepless bed.'
+ (At Patras, about September, 1810.)
+
+ "'Death for thee
+ Prepared a light and pangless dart.'
+
+ "'And oft I thought at Cynthia's noon,
+ When sailing o'er the Ægean wave,
+ "Now Thyrza gazes on that moon"--
+ Alas, it gleam'd upon her grave!'
+ (_One struggle more, and I am free_.)
+
+ "Finally, in the verses of October 11, 1811--
+
+ "'The pledge we wore--_I_ wear it still,
+ But where is thine?--Ah! where art thou?'
+
+ "There can be no doubt that Lord Byron referred to Thyrza in
+ conversation with Lady Byron, and probably also with Mrs. Leigh, as
+ a young girl who had existed, and the date of whose death almost
+ coincided with Lord Byron's landing in England in 1811. On one
+ occasion he showed Lady Byron a beautiful tress of hair, which she
+ understood to be Thyrza's. He said he had never mentioned her name,
+ and that now she was gone his breast was the sole depository of
+ that secret. 'I took the name of Thyrza from Gesner. She was Abel's
+ wife.'
+
+ "Thyrza is mentioned in a letter from Elizabeth, Duchess of
+ Devonshire, to Augustus Foster (London, May 4, 1812): 'Your little
+ friend, Caro William (Lady Caroline Lamb), as usual, is doing all
+ sorts of imprudent things for him (Lord Byron) and with him; he
+ admires her very much, but is supposed by some to admire our
+ Caroline (the Hon. Mrs. George Lamb) more; he says she is like
+ Thyrsa, and her singing is enchantment to him.' From this extract
+ it is obvious that Thyrza is alluded to in the following lines,
+ which, with the above quotation, may be reproduced, by kind
+ permission of Mr. Vere Foster, from his most interesting book, _The
+ Two Duchesses_ (1898, pp. 362-374).
+
+ "'Verses Addressed by Lord Byron in the year 1812 to the Hon. Mrs.
+ George Lamb.
+
+ "'The sacred song that on my ear
+ Yet vibrates from that voice of thine
+ I heard before from one so dear,
+ 'Tis strange it still appears divine.
+ But oh! so sweet that _look_ and _tone_
+ To her and thee alike is given;
+ It seemed as if for me alone
+ That _both_ had been recalled from Heaven.
+ And though I never can redeem
+ The vision thus endeared to me,
+ I scarcely can regret my dream
+ When realized again by thee.'"
+
+(It may be noted that the name Thirza, or Thyrza, a variant of Theresa,
+had been familiar to Byron in his childhood. In the Preface to _Cain_ he
+writes, "Gesner's _Death of Abel!_ I have never read since I was eight
+years of age at Aberdeen. The general impression of my recollection is
+delight; but of the contents I remember only that Cain's wife was called
+Mahala, and Abel's Thirza." Another and more immediate suggestion of the
+name may be traced to the following translation of Meleager's Epitaphium
+_In Heliodoram_, which one of the "associate bards," Bland, or Merivale,
+or Hodgson, contributed to their _Translations chiefly from the Greek
+Anthology_, 1806, p. 4, a work which Byron singles out for commendation
+in _English Bards_, etc, (lines 881-890):--
+
+ "Tears o'er my parted Thyrza's grave I shed,
+ Affection's fondest tribute to the dead.
+ * * * * *
+ Break, break my heart, o'ercharged with bursting woe
+ An empty offering to the shades below!
+ Ah, plant regretted! Death's remorseless power,
+ With dust unfruitful checked thy full-blown flower.
+ Take, earth, the gentle inmate to thy breast,
+ And soft-embosomed let my Thyrza rest."
+
+The MSS. of "To Thyrza," "Away, away, ye notes of Woe!" "One struggle
+more, and I am free," and, "And thou art dead, as young and fair," which
+belonged originally to Mrs. Leigh, are now in the possession of Sir
+Theodore Martin, K.C.B.--Editor.)]
+
+[30] [For the substitution in the present issue of continuous lines for
+stanzas, Byron's own authority and mandate may be quoted. "In reading
+the 4th vol.... I perceive that piece 12 ('Without a Stone') is made
+nonsense of (that is, greater nonsense than usual) by dividing it into
+stanzas 1, 2, etc."--Letter to John Murray, August 26, 1815, _Letters_,
+1899, iii. 215.]
+
+[u] _And soothe if such could soothe thy shade_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[v] {31} _By many a land_----.--[MS.]
+
+[w] {33} _And shall they not_----.--[MS.]
+
+[x] ----_the walk aside_.--[MS.]
+
+[y]
+ (_a_) _The kiss that left no sting behind_
+ _So guiltless Passion thus forbore;_
+ _Those eyes bespoke so pure a mind,_
+ / _plead_ \
+ _That Love forgot to_ { } _for more_.
+ \ _ask_ /
+
+ (_b_) _The kiss that left no sting behind,_
+ _So guiltless Love each wish forebore;_
+ _Those eyes proclaimed so pure a mind,_
+ _That Passion blushed to smile for more_.--
+ [Pencilled alternative stanzas.]
+
+[z] {34} _Well hast thou fled_----.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[aa]
+ _If judging from my present pain_
+ _That rest alone_----.--[MS. erased.]
+ _If rest alone is in the tomb_.--[MS.]
+
+[ab] _So let it be my hope in Heaven_.--[MS. erased]
+
+[ac] {35} _Stanzas_.--[MS. Editions 1812-1832.]
+
+[31] ["I wrote it a day or two ago, on hearing a song of former
+days."--Letter to Hodgson, December 8, 1811, _Letters_, 1898, ii. 82.]
+
+[ad] _I dare not hear_----.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[ae] _But hush the chords_----.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[af] ----_I dare not gaze_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[ag] _The voice that made that song more sweet_.--[MS.]
+
+[ah] _'Tis silent now_----.--[MS.]
+
+[ai] {36} _To Thyrza_.--[Editions 1812-1831.]
+
+[aj]
+ _From pangs that tear_----.--[MS.]
+ _Such pangs that tear_----.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[ak] _With things that moved me not before_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[al] _What sorrow cannot_----.--[MS.]
+
+[am]
+ _It would not be, so hadst not thou_
+ _Withdrawn so soon_----.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[an] {38} _--how oft I said_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[ao]
+ _Like freedom to the worn-out slave_.--[MS.]
+ _But Health and life returned and gave_,
+ _A boon 'twas idle then to give_,
+ _Relenting Health in mocking gave_.--[MS. B. M. erased.]
+
+[32] [Compare _My Epitaph:_ "Youth, Nature and relenting Jove."--Letter
+to Hodgson, October 3, 1810, _Letters_, 1898, i. 298.]
+
+[ap] _Dear simple gift_----.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[33] {39} Compare _A Wish_, by Matthew Arnold, stanza 3, etc.--
+
+ "Spare me the whispering, crowded room,
+ The friends who come and gape and go," etc.
+
+[aq] {41} _Stanzas_.--[Editions 1812-1831.]
+
+[34] ["The Lovers' Walk is terminated with an ornamental urn, inscribed
+to Miss Dolman, a beautiful and amiable relation of Mr. Shenstone's, who
+died of the small-pox, about twenty-one years of age, in the following
+words on one side:--
+
+ 'Peramabili consobrinæ
+ M.D.'
+
+On the other side--
+
+ 'Ah! Maria!
+ pvellarvm elegantissima!
+ ah Flore venvstatis abrepta,
+ vale!
+ hev qvanto minvs est
+ cvm reliqvis versari
+ qvam tui
+ meminisse.'"
+
+(From a _Description of the Leasowes_, by A. Dodsley; _Poetical Works_
+of William Shenstone [1798], p. xxix.)]
+
+[ar]
+ _Are mingled with the Earth_.--[MS.]
+ _Were never meant for Earth_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[as] _Unhonoured with the vulgar dread_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[at] {42}
+ _I will not ask where thou art laid,_
+ _Nor look upon the name_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[au] _So I shall know it not_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[av] _Like common dust can rot_.--[MS.]
+
+[aw] _I would not wish to see nor touch_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[ax] _As well as warm as thou_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[ay] MS. transposes lines 5 and 6 of stanza 3.
+
+[az] _Nor frailty disavow_.--[MS.]
+
+[ba] _Nor canst thou fair and faultless see_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[bb] _Nor wrong, nor change, nor fault in me_.--[MS.]
+
+[bc] {43} _The cloud that cheers_----.--[MS.]
+
+[bd] _The sweetness of that silent deep_.--[MS.]
+
+[be]
+ _The flower in beauty's bloom unmatched_
+ _Is still the earliest prey_.--[MS.]
+ _The rose by some rude fingers snatched_,
+ _Is earliest doomed to fade_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[bf] _I do not deem I could have borne_.--[MS.]
+
+[bg]
+ _But night and day of thine are passed_,
+ _And thou wert lovely to the last;_
+ _Destroyed_----.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[bh] {44} _As stars that seem to quit the sky_.--[MS.]
+
+[bi]
+ _O how much less it were to gain,_
+ _All beauteous though they be_.--[MS.]
+
+[bj] _Through dark and dull Eternity_.--[MS.]
+
+[bk] {45} _Sympathetic Address to a Young Lady_.--[_Morning Chronicle_,
+March 7, 1812.]
+
+[35] [The scene which begat these memorable stanzas was enacted at a
+banquet at Carlton House, February 22, 1812. On March 6 the following
+quatrain, entitled, "Impromptu on a Recent Incident," appeared in the
+_Morning Chronicle_:--
+
+ "Blest omens of a happy reign,
+ In swift succession hourly rise,
+ Forsaken friends, vows made in vain--
+ A daughter's tears, a nation's sighs."
+
+Byron's lines, headed, "Sympathetic Address to a Young Lady," were
+published anonymously in the _Morning Chronicle_ of March 7, but it was
+not till March 10 that the _Courier_ ventured to insert a report of "The
+Fracas at Carlton House on the 22nd ult.," which had already been
+communicated to the _Caledonian Mercury_.
+
+ "The party consisted of the Princess Charlotte, the Duchess of
+ York, the Dukes of York and Cambridge, Lords Moira, Erskine,
+ Lauderdale, Messrs. Adams and Sheridan.
+
+ "The Prince Regent expressed 'his surprise and mortification' at
+ the conduct of Lords Grey and Grenville [who had replied
+ unfavourably to a letter addressed by the P.R. to the Duke of York,
+ suggesting an united administration]. Lord Lauderdale thereupon,
+ with a freedom unusual in courts, asserted that the reply did not
+ express the opinions of Lords Grey and Grenville only, but of every
+ political friend of that way of thinking, and that he had been
+ present at and assisted in the drawing-up, and that every sentence
+ had his cordial assent. The Prince was suddenly and deeply affected
+ by Lord Lauderdale's reply, so much so, that the Princess,
+ observing his agitation, dropt her head and burst into tears--upon
+ which the Prince turned round and begged the female part of the
+ company to withdraw."
+
+In the following June, at a ball at Miss Johnson's, Byron was "presented
+by order to our gracious Regent, who honoured me with some
+conversation," and for a time he ignored and perhaps regretted his
+anonymous _jeu d'esprit_. But early in 1814, either out of mere bravado
+or in an access of political rancour, he determined to republish the
+stanzas under his own name. The first edition of the _Corsair_ was
+printed, if not published, but in accordance with a peremptory direction
+(January 22, 1814), "eight lines on the little Royalty weeping in 1812,"
+were included among the poems printed at the end of the second edition.
+
+The "newspapers were in hysterics and town in an uproar on the avowal
+and republication" of the stanzas (_Diary_, February 18), and during
+Byron's absence from town "Murray omitted the Tears in several of the
+copies"--that is, in the Third Edition--but yielding to _force majeure_,
+replaced them in a Fourth Edition, which was issued early in February.
+(See Letters of July 6, 1812, January 22, February 2, and February 10,
+1814 (_Letters_, 1898, ii. 134, etc.); and for "Newspaper Attacks upon
+Byron," see _Letters_, 1898, ii. Appendix VII. pp. 463-492.)]
+
+[bl] _Stanzas_.--[1812.]
+
+[36] {48} [For allusion to the "Cornelian" see "The Cornelian," ["Pignus
+Amoris"], and "The Adieu," stanza 7, _Poetical Works_, 1898, i. 66, 231,
+240. See, too, _Letters_, 1898, i. 130, note 3.]
+
+[bm] {50} _To Samuel Rogers, Esq_.--[_Poems_, 1816.]
+
+[37] ["Rogers is silent,--and, it is said, severe. When he does talk, he
+talks well; and, on all subjects of taste, his delicacy of expression is
+pure as his poetry. If you enter his house--his drawing-room--his
+library--you of yourself say, this is not the dwelling of a common mind.
+There is not a gem, a coin, a book thrown aside on his chimney-piece,
+his sofa, his table, that does not bespeak an almost fastidious elegance
+in the possessor."--_Diary_, 1813; _Letters_, 1898, ii. 331.]
+
+[38] [Compare Collins' _Ode on the Death of Mr. Thomson_--"In yonder
+grave a Druid lies."]
+
+[39] {51} ["Mr. Elliston then came forward and delivered the following
+_Prize_ address. We cannot boast of the eloquence of the delivery. It
+was neither gracefully nor correctly recited. The merits of the
+production itself we submit to the criticism of our readers. We cannot
+suppose that it was selected as the most poetical composition of all the
+scores that were submitted to the committee. But perhaps by its tenor,
+by its allusions to Garrick, to Siddons, and to Sheridan, it was thought
+most applicable to the occasion, notwithstanding its being in part
+unmusical, and in general tame."--_Morning Chronicle_, October 12,
+1812.]
+
+[40] ["By the by, the best view of the said fire [February 24, 1809]
+(which I myself saw from a house-top in Covent-garden) was at
+Westminster Bridge, from the reflection on the Thames."--Letter to Lord
+Holland, September 25, 1812, _Letters_, 1898, ii. 148.]
+
+[bn]
+ _As flashing far the new Volcano shone_
+ / _meteors_ \
+ _And swept the skies with_ { } _not their own_.
+ \ _lightnings_ /
+
+ / _sadly_ \
+or, _As flashed the volumed blaze, and_ { } _shone_
+ \ _ghastly_ /
+ _The skies with lightnings awful as their own._--
+ [_Letter to Lord Holland, Sept_. 25, 1812.]
+or, _As glared each rising flash, and ghastly shone_
+ _The skies with lightnings awful as their own_.--
+ [_Letter to Lord Holland, Sept_. 27, 1812.]
+
+[bo] {52}
+ / lava of the \
+ _Till slowly ebbed the_ { } _wave_.
+ \ _spent volcanic_ /
+ / the burning \
+or, _Till ebb'd the lava of_ { } _wave_,
+ \ _that molten_ /
+ _And blackening ashes mark'd the Muse's grave_.--
+ [_Letter to Lord Holland, Sept_. 28, 1812]
+
+[bp] _That scorns the scythe of Time, the torch of Flame_.--[Letter to
+Lord Holland, Sept, 28, 1812.]
+
+[bq] {53}
+ _Far be from him that hour which asks in vain_
+ _Tears such as flow for Garrick in his strain;_
+or, _Far be that hour that vainly asks in turn_
+ / crowned his \
+ _Sad verse for him as_ { } _Garrick's urn_.--
+ \ _wept o'er_ /
+ [_Letter to Lord Holland, Sept_. 30, 1812.]
+
+[41] [Originally, "Ere Garrick _died_," etc. "By the by, one of my
+corrections in the fair copy sent yesterday has dived into the bathos
+some sixty fathom--
+
+ 'When Garrick died, and Brinsley ceased to write.'
+
+Ceasing to _live_ is a much more serious concern, and ought not to be
+first; therefore I will let the old couplet stand, with its half rhymes
+'sought' and 'wrote' [_vide supra, variant_ ii.] Second thoughts in
+every thing are best, but, in rhyme, third and fourth don't come
+amiss.... I always scrawl in this way, and smooth as much as I can, but
+never sufficiently."--Letter to Lord Holland, September 26, 1812,
+_Letters_, 1898, ii. 150.]
+
+[br]
+ _Such are the names that here your plaudits sought,_
+ _When Garrick acted, and when Brinsley wrote_.--[MS.]
+
+[42] {54} [The following lines were omitted by the Committee:--
+
+ "_Nay, lower still, the Drama yet deplores_
+ _That late she deigned to crawl upon all-fours_.
+ _When Richard roars in Bosworth for a horse_,
+ _If you command, the steed must come in course_.
+ _If you decree, the Stage must condescend_
+ To soothe the sickly taste we dare not mend.
+ _Blame not our judgment should we acquiesce_,
+ _And gratify you more by showing less_.
+ Oh, since your Fiat stamps the Drama's laws,
+ Forbear to mock us with misplaced applause;
+ _That public praise be ne'er again disgraced_,
+ / brutes to man recall \
+ _From_ { } _a nation's taste;_
+ \ _babes and brutes redeem_ /
+ Then pride shall doubly nerve the actor's powers,
+ When Reason's voice is echoed back with ours."
+
+The last couplet but one was altered in a later copy, thus--
+
+ "_The past reproach let present scenes refute_,
+ _Nor shift from man to babe, from babe to brute._"
+
+"Is Whitbread," wrote Lord Byron, "determined to castrate all my
+_cavalry_ lines?... I do implore, for my _own_ gratification, one lash
+on those accursed quadrupeds--'a long shot, Sir Lucius, if you love
+me.'"--_Letter to Lord Holland_, September 28, 1812, _Letters_, 1898,
+ii. 156. For "animal performers," vide ibid., note 1.]
+
+[43] [Lines 66-69 were added on September 24, in a letter to Lord
+Holland.]
+
+[44] {55} [The original of Dr. Busby's address, entitled "Monologue
+submitted to the Committee of Drury Lane Theatre," which was published
+in the _Morning Chronicle_, October 17, 1812, "will be found in the
+_Genuine Rejected Addresses_, as well as parodied in _Rejected
+Addresses_ ('Architectural Atoms'). On October 14 young Busby forced his
+way on to the stage of Drury Lane, attempted to recite his father's
+address, and was taken into custody. On the next night, Dr. Busby,
+speaking from one of the boxes, obtained a hearing for his son, who
+could not, however, make his voice heard in the theatre.... To the
+failure of the younger Busby (himself a competitor and the author of an
+'Unalogue' ...) to make himself heard, Byron alludes in the stage
+direction, 'to be spoken in an inarticulate voice.'" (See _Letters_,
+1898, ii. 176; and for Dr. Busby, see _Poetical Works_, 1898, i. 481,
+485.) Busby's "Address" ran as follows:--
+
+ "When energising objects men pursue,
+ What are the prodigies they cannot do?
+ A magic edifice you here survey,
+ Shot from the ruins of the other day!
+ As Harlequin had smote the slumberous heap,
+ And bade the rubbish to a fabric leap.
+ Yet at that speed you'd never be amazed,
+ Knew you the _zeal_ with which the pile was raised;
+ Nor even here your smiles would be represt,
+ Knew you the rival flame that fires our breast, 10
+ Flame! fire and flame! sad heart-appalling sounds,
+ Dread metaphors that ope our healing wounds--
+ A sleeping pang awakes--and----But away
+ With all reflections that would cloud the day
+ That this triumphant, brilliant prospect brings,
+ Where Hope reviving re-expands her wings;
+ Where generous joy exults, where duteous ardour springs.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ If mighty things with small we may compare,
+ This spirit drives Britannia's conquering car,
+ Burns in her ranks and kindles every tar.
+ Nelson displayed its power upon the main,
+ And Wellington exhibits it in Spain;
+ Another Marlborough points to Blenheim's story,
+ And with its lustre, blends his kindred glory. 40
+
+ In Arms and Science long our Isle hath shone,
+ And Shakespeare--wondrous Shakespeare--reared a throne
+ For British Poesy--whose powers inspire
+ The British pencil, and the British lyre--
+ Her we invoke--her Sister Arts implore:
+ Their smiles beseech whose charms yourselves adore,
+ These if we win, the Graces too we gain--
+ Their dear, beloved, inseparable train;
+ Three who their witching arts from Cupid stole
+ And three acknowledged sovereigns of the soul: 50
+ Harmonious throng! with nature blending art!
+ Divine Sestetto! warbling to the heart
+ For Poesy shall here sustain the upper part.
+ Thus lifted gloriously we'll sweep along,
+ Shine in our music, scenery and song;
+ Shine in our farce, masque, opera and play,
+ And prove old Drury has not had her day,
+ Nay more--so stretch the wing the world shall cry,
+ Old Drury never, never soared so high.
+ 'But hold,' you'll say, 'this self-complacent boast; 60
+ Easy to reckon thus without your host.'
+ True, true--that lowers at once our mounting pride;
+ 'Tis yours alone our merit to decide;
+ 'Tis ours to look to you, you hold the prize
+ That bids our great, our best ambitions rise.
+ A _double_ blessing _your_ rewards impart,
+ Each good provide and elevate the heart.
+ Our twofold feeling owns its twofold cause,
+ Your bounty's _comfort_--_rapture_ your applause;
+ When in your fostering beam you bid us live, 70
+ You give the means of life, and gild the means you give."
+
+ _Morning Chronicle_, October 17, 1812.]
+
+[45] {57} [Busby's translation of Lucretius (_The Nature of Things_, a
+Didascalie Poem) was published in 1813. Byron was a subscriber, and is
+mentioned in the preface as "one of the most distinguished poets of the
+age." The passage in question is, perhaps, taken from the Second Book,
+lines 880, 881, which Busby renders--
+
+ "Just as she quickens fuel into fire,
+ And bids it, flaming, to the skies aspire."]
+
+[46] {59} [The Leasowes, the residence of the poet Shenstone, is near
+the village of Halesowen, in Shropshire.]
+
+[47] [See Dryden's _Cymon and Iphigenia_, lines 84, 85.]
+
+[48] [The sequel of a temporary liaison formed by Lord Byron during his
+career in London, occasioned this impromptu. On the cessation of the
+connection, the fair one [Lady C. Lamb: see _Letters_, 1898, ii. 451]
+called one morning at her quondam lover's apartments. His Lordship was
+from home; but finding _Vathek_ on the table, the lady wrote in the
+first page of the volume the words, "Remember me!" Byron immediately
+wrote under the ominous warning these two stanzas.--_Conversations of
+Lord Byron_, by Thomas Medwin, 1824, pp. 329, 330.
+
+In Medwin's work the euphemisms _false_ and _fiend_ are represented by
+asterisks.]
+
+[49] {60} ["To Bd., Feb. 22, 1813.
+
+ "'Remember thee,' nay--doubt it not--
+ Thy Husband too may '_think_' of thee!
+ By neither canst thou be forgot,
+ Thou false to him--thou fiend to me!
+
+ "'Remember thee'? Yes--yes--till Fate
+ In Lethe quench the guilty dream.
+ Yet then--e'en then--Remorse and _Hate_
+ Shall vainly quaff the vanquished stream."
+
+From a MS. (in the possession of Mr. Hallam Murray) not in Byron's
+handwriting.]
+
+[bs] {61} ----_not confessed thy power_.--[MS. M. erased.]
+
+[bt] ----_still forgets the hour_.--[MS. M. erased.]
+
+[bu] {64} _Song_.--[_Childe Harold_, 1814.]
+
+[50] ["I send you some lines which may as well be called 'A Song' as
+anything else, and will do for your new edition."--B.--(MS. M.)]
+
+[bv] _But her who not_----.--[MS. M.]
+
+[bw] {65} _To Ianthe_.--[MS. M. Compare "The Dedication" to _Childe
+Harold_.]
+
+[51] {67} [It is possible that these lines, as well as the Sonnets "To
+Genevra," were addressed to Lady Frances Wedderburn Webster.--See
+_Letters,_ 1898, ii. 2, note 1; and _Letters,_ 1899, iii. 8, note 1.]
+
+[bx] _To him who loves and her who loved_.--[MS. M.]
+
+[by] _That trembling form_----.--[MS. M.]
+
+[bz]
+ _Resigning thee, alas! I lost_
+ _Joys bought too dear, if bright with tears,_
+ _Yet ne'er regret the pangs it cost_.--[MS. M. erased.]
+
+[ca] _And crush_----.--[MS. M.]
+
+[cb] _And I been not unworthy thee_.--[MS. M.]
+
+[cc] _Long may thy days_----.--[MS. M.]
+
+[cd] _Might make my hope of guilty joy_.--[MS.]
+
+[52] [Byron forwarded these lines to Moore in a postscript to a letter
+dated September 27, 1813. "Here's," he writes, "an impromptu for you by
+a 'person of quality,' written last week, on being reproached for low
+spirits."--_Letters_, 1898, ii. 268. They were written at Aston Hall,
+Rotherham, where he "stayed a week ... and behaved very well--though the
+lady of the house [Lady F. Wedderburn Webster] is young, and religious,
+and pretty, and the master is my particular friend."--_Letters_, 1898,
+ii. 267.]
+
+[ce] {70} _And bleed_----.--[MS. M.]
+
+[53] ["Redde some Italian, and wrote two Sonnets.... I never wrote but
+one sonnet before, and that was not in earnest, and many years ago, as
+an exercise--and I will never write another. They are the most puling,
+petrifying, stupidly platonic compositions."--_Diary_, December 18,
+1813; _Letters_, 1898, ii. 379.]
+
+[cf] {71} ----_Hope whispers not from woe_.--[MS. M.]
+
+[54]
+ ["In moments to delight devoted
+ 'My Life!' is still the name you give,
+ Dear words! on which my heart had doted
+ Had Man an endless term to live.
+ But, ah! so swift the seasons roll
+ That name must be repeated never,
+ For 'Life' in future say, 'My Soul,'
+ Which like my love exists for ever."
+
+Byron wrote these lines in 1815, in Lady Lansdowne's album, at
+Bowood.--Note by Mr. Richard Edgecombe, _Notes and Queries_, Sixth
+Series, vii. 46.]
+
+
+
+
+ THE GIAOUR:
+
+ A FRAGMENT OF A TURKISH TALE.
+
+ "One fatal remembrance--one sorrow that throws
+ Its bleak shade alike o'er our joys and our woes--
+ To which Life nothing darker nor brighter can bring,
+ For which joy hath no balm--and affliction no sting."
+
+ MOORE.
+ ["As a beam o'er the face," etc.--_Irish Melodies_.]
+
+
+
+
+ INTRODUCTION TO _THE GIAOUR_
+
+
+In a letter to Murray, dated Pisa, December 12, 1821 (_Life_, p. 545),
+Byron avows that the "Giaour Story" had actually "some foundation on
+facts." Soon after the poem appeared (June 5, 1813), "a story was
+circulated by some gentlewomen ... a little too close to the text"
+(Letters to Moore, September 1, 1813, _Letters_, 1898, ii. 258), and in
+order to put himself right with his friends or posterity, Byron wrote to
+his friend Lord Sligo, who in July, 1810, was anchored off Athens in "a
+twelve-gun brig, with a crew of fifty men" (see _Letters_, 1898, i. 289,
+note 1), requesting him to put on paper not so much the narrative of an
+actual event, but "what he had heard at Athens about the affair of that
+girl who was so near being put an end to while you were there."
+According to the letter which Moore published (_Life_, p. 178), and
+which is reprinted in the present issue (_Letters_, 1898, ii. 257),
+Byron interposed on behalf of a girl, who "in compliance with the strict
+letter of the Mohammedan law," had been sewn in a sack and was about to
+be thrown into the sea. "I was told," adds Lord Sligo, "that you then
+conveyed her in safety to the convent, and despatched her off at night
+to Thebes." The letter, which Byron characterizes as "curious," is by no
+means conclusive, and to judge from the designedly mysterious references
+in the Journal, dated November 16 and December 5, and in the second
+postscript to a letter to Professor Clarke, dated December 15, 1813
+(_Letters_, 1898, ii. 321, 361, 311), "the circumstances which were the
+groundwork" are not before us. "An event," says John Wright (ed. 1832,
+ix. 145), "in which Lord Byron was personally concerned, undoubtedly
+supplied the groundwork of this tale; but for the story so
+circumstantially set forth (see Medwin's _Conversations_, 1824, pp. 121,
+124) of his having been the lover of this female slave, there is no
+foundation. The girl whose life the poet saved at Athens was not, we are
+assured by Sir John Hobhouse (_Westminster Review_, January, 1825, iii.
+27), an object of his Lordship's attachment, but of that of his Turkish
+servant." Nevertheless, whatever Byron may have told Hobhouse (who had
+returned to England), and he distinctly says (_Letters_, 1898, ii. 393)
+that he did not tell him everything, he avowed to Clarke that he had
+been led "to the water's edge," and confided to his diary that to
+"describe the _feelings_ of _that_ situation was impossible--it is _icy_
+even to recollect them."
+
+For the allusive and fragmentary style of the _Giaour_, _The Voyage of
+Columbus_, which Rogers published in 1812, is in part responsible. "It
+is sudden in its transitions," wrote the author, in the Preface to the
+first edition, "... leaving much to be imagined by the reader." The
+story or a part of it is told by a fellow-seaman of Columbus, who had
+turned "eremite" in his old age, and though the narrative itself is in
+heroic verse, the prologue and epilogue, as they may be termed, are in
+"the romance or ballad-measure of the Spanish." The resemblance between
+the two poems is certainly more than accidental. On the other hand, a
+vivid and impassioned description of Oriental scenery and customs was,
+as Gifford observed, new and original, and though, by his own admission,
+Byron was indebted to _Vathek_ (or rather S. Henley's notes to _Vathek_)
+and to D'Herbelot's _Bibliothèque Orientale_ for allusions and details,
+the "atmosphere" could only have been reproduced by the creative fancy
+of an observant and enthusiastic traveller who had lived under Eastern
+skies, and had come within ken of Eastern life and sentiment.
+
+In spite, however, of his love for the subject-matter of his poem, and
+the facility, surprising even to himself, with which he spun his rhymes,
+Byron could not persuade himself that a succession of fragments would
+sort themselves and grow into a complete and connected whole. If his
+thrice-repeated depreciation of the _Giaour_ is not entirely genuine, it
+is plain that he misdoubted himself. Writing to Murray (August 26,
+1813) he says, "I have, but with some difficulty, _not_ added any more
+to this snake of a poem, which has been lengthening its rattles every
+month;" to Moore (September 1), "The _Giaour_ I have added to a good
+deal, but still in foolish fragments;" and, again, to Moore (September
+8), "By the coach I send you a copy of that awful pamphlet the
+_Giaour_."
+
+But while the author doubted and apologized, or deprecated "his love's
+excess In words of wrong and bitterness," the public read, and edition
+followed edition with bewildering speed.
+
+The _Giaour_ was reviewed by George Agar Ellis in the _Quarterly_ (No.
+xxxi., January, 1813 [published February 11, 1813]) and in the
+_Edinburgh Review_ by Jeffrey (No. 54, January, 1813 [published February
+24, 1813]).
+
+
+
+BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE ON _THE GIAOUR_
+
+The bibliography of the _Giaour_ is beset with difficulties, and it is
+doubtful if more than approximate accuracy can be secured. The
+composition of the entire poem in its present shape was accomplished
+within six months, May-November, 1813, but during that period it was
+expanded by successive accretions from a first draft of 407 lines
+(extant in MS.) to a seventh edition of 1334 lines. A proof is extant of
+an edition of 28 pages containing 460 lines, itself an enlargement on
+the MS.; but whether (as a note in the handwriting of the late Mr.
+Murray affirms) this was or was not published is uncertain. A portion of
+a second proof of 38 pages has been preserved, but of the publication of
+the poem in this state there is no record. On June 5 a first edition of
+41 pages, containing 685 lines, was issued, and of this numerous copies
+are extant. At the end of June, or the beginning of July, 1813, a second
+edition, entitled, a "New Edition with some Additions," appeared. This
+consisted of 47 pages, and numbered 816 lines. Among the accretions is
+to be found the famous passage beginning, "He that hath bent him o'er
+the dead." Two MS. copies of this _pannus vere purpureus_ are in Mr.
+Murray's possession. At the end of July, and during the first half of
+August, two or more issues of a third edition were set up in type. The
+first issue amounted to 53 pages, containing 950 lines, was certainly
+published in this form, and possibly a second issue of 56 pages,
+containing 1004 lines, may have followed at a brief interval. A revise
+of this second issue, dated August 13, is extant. In the last fortnight
+of August a fourth edition of 58 pages, containing 1048 lines,
+undoubtedly saw the light. Scarcely more than a few days can have
+elapsed before a fifth edition of 66 pages, containing 1215 lines, was
+ready to supplant the fourth edition. A sixth edition, a reproduction of
+the fifth, may have appeared in October. A seventh edition of 75 pages,
+containing 1334 lines, which presented the poem in its final shape, was
+issued subsequently to November 27, 1813 (a seventh edition was
+advertised in the _Morning Chronicle_, December 22, 1813), the date of
+the last revise, or of an advance copy of the issue. The ninth, tenth,
+eleventh, and twelfth editions belong to 1814, while a fourteenth
+edition is known to have been issued in 1815. In that year and
+henceforward the _Giaour_ was included in the various collected editions
+of Byron's works. The subjoined table assigns to their several editions
+the successive accretions in their order as now published:--
+
+ Lines. _Giaour_. Edition of----
+
+ 1--6. _MS. First edition of 28 pages._
+
+ 7--20. Second edition. [47 pages, 816 lines.] Approximate date,
+ June 24, 1813.
+
+ 21--45. Third edition. [53 pages, 950 lines.] July 30, 1813.
+
+ 46--102. Second edition.
+
+ 103--167. Fifth edition. [66 pages, 1215 lines.] August 25, 1813.
+
+ 168--199. _MS. First edition of 28 pages._
+
+ 200--250. Third edition.
+
+ 251--252. Seventh edition. [75 pages, 1334 lines.] November 27, 1813.
+
+ 253--276. Third edition.
+
+ 277--287. _MS. First edition of 28 pages._
+
+ 288--351. Third edition. (Second issue?) August 11, 1813.
+ [56 pages, 1004,? 1014 lines.]
+
+ 352--503. _MS. First edition of 28 pages._
+
+ 504--518. Third edition.
+
+ 519--619. _MS. First edition of 28 pages._
+
+ 620--654. Second edition.
+
+ 655--688. _MS. First edition of 28 pages._
+
+ 689--722. Fourth edition. [58 pages, 1048 lines.] August 19.
+
+ 723--737. _MS. First edition of 28 pages._
+ 733-4 not in the MS., but in
+ First edition of 28 pages.
+
+ 738--745. _First edition of_ 41 _pages_. June 5, 1813.
+
+ 746--786. First edition of 28 pages. Not in the MS.
+
+ 787--831. _MS. First edition of 28 pages_.
+
+ 832--915. Seventh edition.
+
+ 916--998. _First edition of 41 pages_.
+ 937-970 no MS.
+
+ 999--1023. Second edition.
+
+1024--1028. Seventh edition.
+
+1029--1079. _First edition of 41 pages_.
+
+1080--1098. Third edition.
+
+1099--1125. _First edition of 41 pages_.
+
+1126--1130. Seventh edition.
+
+1131--1191. Fifth edition.
+
+1192--1217. Seventh edition.
+
+1218--1256. Fifth edition.
+
+1257--1318. _First edition of 41 pages_.
+
+1319--1334. _MS. First edition of 28 pages_.
+
+
+
+ NOTE.
+
+The first edition is advertised in the _Morning Chronicle_, June 5; a
+third edition on August 11, 13, 16, 31; a fifth edition, with
+considerable additions, on September 11; on November 29 a "new edition;"
+and on December 27, 1813, a seventh edition, together with a repeated
+notice of the _Bride of Abydos_. These dates do not exactly correspond
+with Murray's contemporary memoranda of the dates of the successive
+issues.
+
+
+ To
+
+ SAMUEL ROGERS, ESQ.
+
+ as a slight but most sincere token
+
+ of admiration of his genius,
+
+ respect for his character,
+
+ and gratitude for his friendship,
+
+ THIS PRODUCTION IS INSCRIBED
+
+ by his obliged
+
+ and affectionate servant,
+
+ BYRON.
+
+London, _May_, 1813.
+
+
+
+
+ ADVERTISEMENT.
+
+The tale which these disjointed fragments present, is founded upon
+circumstances now less common in the East than formerly; either because
+the ladies are more circumspect than in the "olden time," or because the
+Christians have better fortune, or less enterprise. The story, when
+entire, contained the adventures of a female slave, who was thrown, in
+the Mussulman manner, into the sea for infidelity, and avenged by a
+young Venetian, her lover, at the time the Seven Islands were possessed
+by the Republic of Venice, and soon after the Arnauts were beaten back
+from the Morea, which they had ravaged for some time subsequent to the
+Russian invasion. The desertion of the Mainotes, on being refused the
+plunder of Misitra, led to the abandonment of that enterprise, and to
+the desolation of the Morea, during which the cruelty exercised on all
+sides was unparalleled even in the annals of the faithful.
+
+
+
+
+ THE GIAOUR.
+
+
+ No breath of air to break the wave
+ That rolls below the Athenian's grave,
+ That tomb[55] which, gleaming o'er the cliff,
+ First greets the homeward-veering skiff
+ High o'er the land he saved in vain;
+ When shall such Hero live again?
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Fair clime! where every season smiles[cg]
+ Benignant o'er those blessed isles,
+ Which, seen from far Colonna's height,
+ Make glad the heart that hails the sight, 10
+ And lend to loneliness delight.
+ There mildly dimpling, Ocean's cheek
+ Reflects the tints of many a peak
+ Caught by the laughing tides that lave
+ These Edens of the eastern wave:
+ And if at times a transient breeze
+ Break the blue crystal of the seas,
+ Or sweep one blossom from the trees,
+ How welcome is each gentle air
+ That wakes and wafts the odours there! 20
+ For there the Rose, o'er crag or vale,
+ Sultana of the Nightingale,[56]
+ The maid for whom his melody,
+ His thousand songs are heard on high,
+ Blooms blushing to her lover's tale:
+ His queen, the garden queen, his Rose,
+ Unbent by winds, unchilled by snows,
+ Far from the winters of the west,
+ By every breeze and season blest,
+ Returns the sweets by Nature given 30
+ In softest incense back to Heaven;
+ And grateful yields that smiling sky
+ Her fairest hue and fragrant sigh.
+ And many a summer flower is there,
+ And many a shade that Love might share,
+ And many a grotto, meant for rest,
+ That holds the pirate for a guest;
+ Whose bark in sheltering cove below
+ Lurks for the passing peaceful prow,
+ Till the gay mariner's guitar[57] 40
+ Is heard, and seen the Evening Star;
+ Then stealing with the muffled oar,
+ Far shaded by the rocky shore,
+ Rush the night-prowlers on the prey,
+ And turn to groans his roundelay.
+ Strange--that where Nature loved to trace,
+ As if for Gods, a dwelling place,
+ And every charm and grace hath mixed
+ Within the Paradise she fixed,
+ There man, enamoured of distress, 50
+ Should mar it into wilderness,[ch]
+ And trample, brute-like, o'er each flower
+ That tasks not one laborious hour;
+ Nor claims the culture of his hand
+ To bloom along the fairy land,
+ But springs as to preclude his care,
+ And sweetly woos him--but to spare!
+ Strange--that where all is Peace beside,
+ There Passion riots in her pride,
+ And Lust and Rapine wildly reign 60
+ To darken o'er the fair domain.
+ It is as though the Fiends prevailed
+ Against the Seraphs they assailed,
+ And, fixed on heavenly thrones, should dwell
+ The freed inheritors of Hell;
+ So soft the scene, so formed for joy,
+ So curst the tyrants that destroy!
+
+ He who hath bent him o'er the dead[ci][58]
+ Ere the first day of Death is fled,
+ The first dark day of Nothingness, 70
+ The last of Danger and Distress,
+ (Before Decay's effacing fingers
+ Have swept the lines where Beauty lingers,)
+ And marked the mild angelic air,
+ The rapture of Repose that's there,[cj]
+ The fixed yet tender traits that streak
+ The languor of the placid cheek,
+ And--but for that sad shrouded eye,
+ That fires not, wins not, weeps not, now,
+ And but for that chill, changeless brow, 80
+ Where cold Obstruction's apathy[59]
+ Appals the gazing mourner's heart,[ck]
+ As if to him it could impart
+ The doom he dreads, yet dwells upon;
+ Yes, but for these and these alone,
+ Some moments, aye, one treacherous hour,
+ He still might doubt the Tyrant's power;
+ So fair, so calm, so softly sealed,
+ The first, last look by Death revealed![60]
+ Such is the aspect of this shore; 90
+ 'Tis Greece, but living Greece no more![61]
+ So coldly sweet, so deadly fair,
+ We start, for Soul is wanting there.
+ Hers is the loveliness in death,
+ That parts not quite with parting breath;
+ But beauty with that fearful bloom,
+ That hue which haunts it to the tomb,
+ Expression's last receding ray,
+ A gilded Halo hovering round decay,
+ The farewell beam of Feeling past away! 100
+ Spark of that flame, perchance of heavenly birth,
+ Which gleams, but warms no more its cherished earth!
+
+ Clime of the unforgotten brave![62]
+ Whose land from plain to mountain-cave
+ Was Freedom's home or Glory's grave!
+ Shrine of the mighty! can it be,[cl]
+ That this is all remains of thee?
+ Approach, thou craven crouching slave:[63]
+ Say, is not this Thermopylæ?[cm]
+ These waters blue that round you lave,-- 110
+ Oh servile offspring of the free--
+ Pronounce what sea, what shore is this?
+ The gulf, the rock of Salamis!
+ These scenes, their story not unknown,
+ Arise, and make again your own;
+ Snatch from the ashes of your Sires
+ The embers of their former fires;
+ And he who in the strife expires[cn]
+ Will add to theirs a name of fear
+ That Tyranny shall quake to hear, 120
+ And leave his sons a hope, a fame,
+ They too will rather die than shame:
+ For Freedom's battle once begun,
+ Bequeathed by bleeding Sire to Son,[co]
+ Though baffled oft is ever won.
+ Bear witness, Greece, thy living page!
+ Attest it many a deathless age![cp]
+ While Kings, in dusty darkness hid,
+ Have left a nameless pyramid,
+ Thy Heroes, though the general doom 130
+ Hath swept the column from their tomb,
+ A mightier monument command,
+ The mountains of their native land!
+ There points thy Muse to stranger's eye[cq]
+ The graves of those that cannot die!
+ 'Twere long to tell, and sad to trace,
+ Each step from Splendour to Disgrace;
+ Enough--no foreign foe could quell
+ Thy soul, till from itself it fell;
+ Yet! Self-abasement paved the way 140
+ To villain-bonds and despot sway.
+
+ What can he tell who treads thy shore?
+ No legend of thine olden time,
+ No theme on which the Muse might soar
+ High as thine own in days of yore,
+ When man was worthy of thy clime.
+ The hearts within thy valleys bred,[cr]
+ The fiery souls that might have led
+ Thy sons to deeds sublime,
+ Now crawl from cradle to the Grave, 150
+ Slaves--nay, the bondsmen of a Slave,[64]
+ And callous, save to crime;
+ Stained with each evil that pollutes
+ Mankind, where least above the brutes;
+ Without even savage virtue blest,
+ Without one free or valiant breast,
+ Still to the neighbouring ports they waft[cs]
+ Proverbial wiles, and ancient craft;
+ In this the subtle Greek is found,
+ For this, and this alone, renowned. 160
+ In vain might Liberty invoke
+ The spirit to its bondage broke
+ Or raise the neck that courts the yoke:
+ No more her sorrows I bewail,
+ Yet this will be a mournful tale,
+ And they who listen may believe,
+ Who heard it first had cause to grieve.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Far, dark, along the blue sea glancing,
+ The shadows of the rocks advancing
+ Start on the fisher's eye like boat 170
+ Of island-pirate or Mainote;
+ And fearful for his light caïque,
+ He shuns the near but doubtful creek:[ct]
+ Though worn and weary with his toil,
+ And cumbered with his scaly spoil,
+ Slowly, yet strongly, plies the oar,
+ Till Port Leone's safer shore
+ Receives him by the lovely light
+ That best becomes an Eastern night.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Who thundering comes on blackest steed,[65] 180
+ With slackened bit and hoof of speed?
+ Beneath the clattering iron's sound
+ The caverned Echoes wake around
+ In lash for lash, and bound for bound:
+ The foam that streaks the courser's side
+ Seems gathered from the Ocean-tide:
+ Though weary waves are sunk to rest,
+ There's none within his rider's breast;
+ And though to-morrow's tempest lower,
+ 'Tis calmer than thy heart, young Giaour![66] 190
+ I know thee not, I loathe thy race,
+ But in thy lineaments I trace
+ What Time shall strengthen, not efface:
+ Though young and pale, that sallow front
+ Is scathed by fiery Passion's brunt;
+ Though bent on earth thine evil eye,[cu]
+ As meteor-like thou glidest by,
+ Right well I view and deem thee one
+ Whom Othman's sons should slay or shun.
+
+ On--on he hastened, and he drew 200
+ My gaze of wonder as he flew:[cv]
+ Though like a Demon of the night
+ He passed, and vanished from my sight,
+ His aspect and his air impressed
+ A troubled memory on my breast,
+ And long upon my startled ear
+ Rung his dark courser's hoofs of fear.
+ He spurs his steed; he nears the steep,
+ That, jutting, shadows o'er the deep;
+ He winds around; he hurries by; 210
+ The rock relieves him from mine eye;
+ For, well I ween, unwelcome he
+ Whose glance is fixed on those that flee;
+ And not a star but shines too bright
+ On him who takes such timeless flight.[cw]
+ He wound along; but ere he passed
+ One glance he snatched, as if his last,
+ A moment checked his wheeling steed,[67]
+ A moment breathed him from his speed,
+ A moment on his stirrup stood-- 220
+ Why looks he o'er the olive wood?[cx]
+ The Crescent glimmers on the hill,
+ The Mosque's high lamps are quivering still
+ Though too remote for sound to wake
+ In echoes of the far tophaike,[68]
+ The flashes of each joyous peal
+ Are seen to prove the Moslem's zeal.
+ To-night, set Rhamazani's sun;
+ To-night, the Bairam feast's begun;
+ To-night--but who and what art thou 230
+ Of foreign garb and fearful brow?
+ And what are these to thine or thee,
+ That thou shouldst either pause or flee?
+
+ He stood--some dread was on his face,
+ Soon Hatred settled in its place:
+ It rose not with the reddening flush
+ Of transient Anger's hasty blush,[cy][69]
+ But pale as marble o'er the tomb,
+ Whose ghastly whiteness aids its gloom.
+ His brow was bent, his eye was glazed; 240
+ He raised his arm, and fiercely raised,
+ And sternly shook his hand on high,
+ As doubting to return or fly;[cz]
+ Impatient of his flight delayed,
+ Here loud his raven charger neighed--
+ Down glanced that hand, and grasped his blade;
+ That sound had burst his waking dream,
+ As Slumber starts at owlet's scream.
+ The spur hath lanced his courser's sides;
+ Away--away--for life he rides: 250
+ Swift as the hurled on high jerreed[70]
+ Springs to the touch his startled steed;
+ The rock is doubled, and the shore
+ Shakes with the clattering tramp no more;
+ The crag is won, no more is seen
+ His Christian crest and haughty mien.
+ 'Twas but an instant he restrained
+ That fiery barb so sternly reined;[da]
+ 'Twas but a moment that he stood,
+ Then sped as if by Death pursued; 260
+ But in that instant o'er his soul
+ Winters of Memory seemed to roll,
+ And gather in that drop of time
+ A life of pain, an age of crime.
+ O'er him who loves, or hates, or fears,
+ Such moment pours the grief of years:[db]
+ What felt _he_ then, at once opprest
+ By all that most distracts the breast?
+ That pause, which pondered o'er his fate,
+ Oh, who its dreary length shall date! 270
+ Though in Time's record nearly nought,
+ It was Eternity to Thought![71]
+ For infinite as boundless space
+ The thought that Conscience must embrace,
+ Which in itself can comprehend
+ Woe without name, or hope, or end.[72]
+
+ The hour is past, the Giaour is gone:
+ And did he fly or fall alone?[dc]
+ Woe to that hour he came or went!
+ The curse for Hassan's sin was sent 280
+ To turn a palace to a tomb;
+ He came, he went, like the Simoom,[73]
+ That harbinger of Fate and gloom,
+ Beneath whose widely-wasting breath
+ The very cypress droops to death--
+ Dark tree, still sad when others' grief is fled,
+ The only constant mourner o'er the dead!
+
+ The steed is vanished from the stall;
+ No serf is seen in Hassan's hall;
+ The lonely Spider's thin gray pall[dd] 290
+ Waves slowly widening o'er the wall;
+ The Bat builds in his Haram bower,[74]
+ And in the fortress of his power
+ The Owl usurps the beacon-tower;
+ The wild-dog howls o'er the fountain's brim,
+ With baffled thirst, and famine, grim;
+ For the stream has shrunk from its marble bed,
+ Where the weeds and the desolate dust are spread.
+ 'Twas sweet of yore to see it play
+ And chase the sultriness of day, 300
+ As springing high the silver dew[de]
+ In whirls fantastically flew,
+ And flung luxurious coolness round
+ The air, and verdure o'er the ground.
+ 'Twas sweet, when cloudless stars were bright,
+ To view the wave of watery light,
+ And hear its melody by night.
+ And oft had Hassan's Childhood played
+ Around the verge of that cascade;
+ And oft upon his mother's breast 310
+ That sound had harmonized his rest;
+ And oft had Hassan's Youth along
+ Its bank been soothed by Beauty's song;
+ And softer seemed each melting tone
+ Of Music mingled with its own.
+ But ne'er shall Hassan's Age repose
+ Along the brink at Twilight's close:
+ The stream that filled that font is fled--
+ The blood that warmed his heart is shed![df]
+ And here no more shall human voice 320
+ Be heard to rage, regret, rejoice.
+ The last sad note that swelled the gale
+ Was woman's wildest funeral wail:
+ That quenched in silence, all is still,
+ But the lattice that flaps when the wind is shrill:
+ Though raves the gust, and floods the rain,
+ No hand shall close its clasp again.
+ On desert sands 'twere joy to scan
+ The rudest steps of fellow man,
+ So here the very voice of Grief 330
+ Might wake an Echo like relief--[dg]
+ At least 'twould say, "All are not gone;
+ There lingers Life, though but in one"--[dh]
+ For many a gilded chamber's there,
+ Which Solitude might well forbear;[75]
+ Within that dome as yet Decay
+ Hath slowly worked her cankering way--
+ But gloom is gathered o'er the gate,
+ Nor there the Fakir's self will wait;
+ Nor there will wandering Dervise stay, 340
+ For Bounty cheers not his delay;
+ Nor there will weary stranger halt
+ To bless the sacred "bread and salt."[di][76]
+ Alike must Wealth and Poverty
+ Pass heedless and unheeded by,
+ For Courtesy and Pity died
+ With Hassan on the mountain side.
+ His roof, that refuge unto men,
+ Is Desolation's hungry den.
+ The guest flies the hall, and the vassal from labour, 350
+ Since his turban was cleft by the infidel's sabre![dj][77]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ I hear the sound of coming feet,
+ But not a voice mine ear to greet;
+ More near--each turban I can scan,
+ And silver-sheathèd ataghan;[78]
+ The foremost of the band is seen
+ An Emir by his garb of green:[79]
+ "Ho! who art thou?"--"This low salam[80]
+ Replies of Moslem faith I am.[dk]
+ The burthen ye so gently bear, 360
+ Seems one that claims your utmost care,
+ And, doubtless, holds some precious freight--
+ My humble bark would gladly wait."[dl]
+
+ "Thou speakest sooth: thy skiff unmoor,
+ And waft us from the silent shore;
+ Nay, leave the sail still furled, and ply
+ The nearest oar that's scattered by,
+ And midway to those rocks where sleep
+ The channelled waters dark and deep.
+ Rest from your task--so--bravely done, 370
+ Our course has been right swiftly run;
+ Yet 'tis the longest voyage, I trow,
+ That one of--[81] * * * "
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Sullen it plunged, and slowly sank,
+ The calm wave rippled to the bank;
+ I watched it as it sank, methought
+ Some motion from the current caught
+ Bestirred it more,--'twas but the beam
+ That checkered o'er the living stream:
+ I gazed, till vanishing from view, 380
+ Like lessening pebble it withdrew;
+ Still less and less, a speck of white
+ That gemmed the tide, then mocked the sight;
+ And all its hidden secrets sleep,
+ Known but to Genii of the deep,
+ Which, trembling in their coral caves,
+ They dare not whisper to the waves.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ As rising on its purple wing
+ The insect-queen[82] of Eastern spring,
+ O'er emerald meadows of Kashmeer 390
+ Invites the young pursuer near,
+ And leads him on from flower to flower
+ A weary chase and wasted hour,
+ Then leaves him, as it soars on high,
+ With panting heart and tearful eye:
+ So Beauty lures the full-grown child,
+ With hue as bright, and wing as wild:
+ A chase of idle hopes and fears,
+ Begun in folly, closed in tears.
+ If won, to equal ills betrayed,[dm] 400
+ Woe waits the insect and the maid;
+ A life of pain, the loss of peace;
+ From infant's play, and man's caprice:
+ The lovely toy so fiercely sought
+ Hath lost its charm by being caught,
+ For every touch that wooed its stay
+ Hath brushed its brightest hues away,
+ Till charm, and hue, and beauty gone,
+ 'Tis left to fly or fall alone.
+ With wounded wing, or bleeding breast, 410
+ Ah! where shall either victim rest?
+ Can this with faded pinion soar
+ From rose to tulip as before?
+ Or Beauty, blighted in an hour,
+ Find joy within her broken bower?
+ No: gayer insects fluttering by
+ Ne'er droop the wing o'er those that die,
+ And lovelier things have mercy shown
+ To every failing but their own,
+ And every woe a tear can claim 420
+ Except an erring Sister's shame.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ The Mind, that broods o'er guilty woes,
+ Is like the Scorpion girt by fire;
+ In circle narrowing as it glows,[dn]
+ The flames around their captive close,
+ Till inly searched by thousand throes,
+ And maddening in her ire,
+ One sad and sole relief she knows--
+ The sting she nourished for her foes,
+ Whose venom never yet was vain, 430
+ Gives but one pang, and cures all pain,
+ And darts into her desperate brain:
+ So do the dark in soul expire,
+ Or live like Scorpion girt by fire;[83]
+ So writhes the mind Remorse hath riven,[do]
+ Unfit for earth, undoomed for heaven,
+ Darkness above, despair beneath,
+ Around it flame, within it death!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Black Hassan from the Haram flies,
+ Nor bends on woman's form his eyes; 440
+ The unwonted chase each hour employs,
+ Yet shares he not the hunter's joys.
+ Not thus was Hassan wont to fly
+ When Leila dwelt in his Serai.
+ Doth Leila there no longer dwell?
+ That tale can only Hassan tell:
+ Strange rumours in our city say
+ Upon that eve she fled away
+ When Rhamazan's[84] last sun was set,
+ And flashing from each Minaret 450
+ Millions of lamps proclaimed the feast
+ Of Bairam through the boundless East.
+ 'Twas then she went as to the bath,
+ Which Hassan vainly searched in wrath;
+ For she was flown her master's rage
+ In likeness of a Georgian page,
+ And far beyond the Moslem's power
+ Had wronged him with the faithless Giaour.
+ Somewhat of this had Hassan deemed;
+ But still so fond, so fair she seemed, 460
+ Too well he trusted to the slave
+ Whose treachery deserved a grave:
+ And on that eve had gone to Mosque,
+ And thence to feast in his Kiosk.
+ Such is the tale his Nubians tell,
+ Who did not watch their charge too well;
+ But others say, that on that night,
+ By pale Phingari's[85] trembling light,
+ The Giaour upon his jet-black steed
+ Was seen, but seen alone to speed 470
+ With bloody spur along the shore,
+ Nor maid nor page behind him bore.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Her eye's dark charm 'twere vain to tell,
+ But gaze on that of the Gazelle,
+ It will assist thy fancy well;
+ As large, as languishingly dark,
+ But Soul beamed forth in every spark
+ That darted from beneath the lid,
+ Bright as the jewel of Giamschid.[86]
+ Yea, _Soul_, and should our prophet say 480
+ That form was nought but breathing clay,
+ By Alla! I would answer nay;
+ Though on Al-Sirat's[87] arch I stood,
+ Which totters o'er the fiery flood,
+ With Paradise within my view,
+ And all his Houris beckoning through.
+ Oh! who young Leila's glance could read
+ And keep that portion of his creed
+ Which saith that woman is but dust,
+ A soulless toy for tyrant's lust?[88] 490
+ On her might Muftis gaze, and own
+ That through her eye the Immortal shone;
+ On her fair cheek's unfading hue
+ The young pomegranate's[89] blossoms strew
+ Their bloom in blushes ever new;
+ Her hair in hyacinthine flow,[90]
+ When left to roll its folds below,
+ As midst her handmaids in the hall
+ She stood superior to them all,
+ Hath swept the marble where her feet 500
+ Gleamed whiter than the mountain sleet
+ Ere from the cloud that gave it birth
+ It fell, and caught one stain of earth.
+ The cygnet nobly walks the water;
+ So moved on earth Circassia's daughter,
+ The loveliest bird of Franguestan![91]
+ As rears her crest the ruffled Swan,
+ And spurns the wave with wings of pride,
+ When pass the steps of stranger man
+ Along the banks that bound her tide; 510
+ Thus rose fair Leila's whiter neck:--
+ Thus armed with beauty would she check
+ Intrusion's glance, till Folly's gaze
+ Shrunk from the charms it meant to praise.
+ Thus high and graceful was her gait;
+ Her heart as tender to her mate;
+ Her mate--stern Hassan, who was he?
+ Alas! that name was not for thee![92]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Stern Hassan hath a journey ta'en
+ With twenty vassals in his train, 520
+ Each armed, as best becomes a man,
+ With arquebuss and ataghan;
+ The chief before, as decked for war,
+ Bears in his belt the scimitar
+ Stained with the best of Arnaut blood,
+ When in the pass the rebels stood,
+ And few returned to tell the tale
+ Of what befell in Parne's vale.
+ The pistols which his girdle bore
+ Were those that once a Pasha wore, 530
+ Which still, though gemmed and bossed with gold,
+ Even robbers tremble to behold.
+ 'Tis said he goes to woo a bride
+ More true than her who left his side;
+ The faithless slave that broke her bower,
+ And--worse than faithless--for a Giaour!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ The sun's last rays are on the hill,
+ And sparkle in the fountain rill,
+ Whose welcome waters, cool and clear,
+ Draw blessings from the mountaineer: 540
+ Here may the loitering merchant Greek
+ Find that repose 'twere vain to seek
+ In cities lodged too near his lord,
+ And trembling for his secret hoard--
+ Here may he rest where none can see,
+ In crowds a slave, in deserts free;
+ And with forbidden wine may stain
+ The bowl a Moslem must not drain
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ The foremost Tartar's in the gap
+ Conspicuous by his yellow cap; 550
+ The rest in lengthening line the while
+ Wind slowly through the long defile:
+ Above, the mountain rears a peak,
+ Where vultures whet the thirsty beak,
+ And theirs may be a feast to-night,
+ Shall tempt them down ere morrow's light;
+ Beneath, a river's wintry stream
+ Has shrunk before the summer beam,
+ And left a channel bleak and bare,
+ Save shrubs that spring to perish there: 560
+ Each side the midway path there lay
+ Small broken crags of granite gray,
+ By time, or mountain lightning, riven
+ From summits clad in mists of heaven;
+ For where is he that hath beheld
+ The peak of Liakura[93] unveiled?
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ They reach the grove of pine at last;
+ "Bismillah![94] now the peril's past;
+ For yonder view the opening plain,
+ And there we'll prick our steeds amain:" 570
+ The Chiaus[95] spake, and as he said,
+ A bullet whistled o'er his head;
+ The foremost Tartar bites the ground!
+ Scarce had they time to check the rein,
+ Swift from their steeds the riders bound;
+ But three shall never mount again:
+ Unseen the foes that gave the wound,
+ The dying ask revenge in vain.
+ With steel unsheathed, and carbine bent,
+ Some o'er their courser's harness leant, 580
+ Half sheltered by the steed;
+ Some fly beneath the nearest rock,
+ And there await the coming shock,
+ Nor tamely stand to bleed
+ Beneath the shaft of foes unseen,
+ Who dare not quit their craggy screen.
+ Stern Hassan only from his horse
+ Disdains to light, and keeps his course,
+ Till fiery flashes in the van
+ Proclaim too sure the robber-clan 590
+ Have well secured the only way
+ Could now avail the promised prey;
+ Then curled his very beard[96] with ire,
+ And glared his eye with fiercer fire;
+ "Though far and near the bullets hiss,
+ I've scaped a bloodier hour than this."
+ And now the foe their covert quit,
+ And call his vassals to submit;
+ But Hassan's frown and furious word
+ Are dreaded more than hostile sword, 600
+ Nor of his little band a man
+ Resigned carbine or ataghan,
+ Nor raised the craven cry, Amaun![97]
+ In fuller sight, more near and near,
+ The lately ambushed foes appear,
+ And, issuing from the grove, advance
+ Some who on battle-charger prance.
+ Who leads them on with foreign brand
+ Far flashing in his red right hand?
+ "'Tis he!'tis he! I know him now; 610
+ I know him by his pallid brow;
+ I know him by the evil eye[98]
+ That aids his envious treachery;
+ I know him by his jet-black barb;
+ Though now arrayed in Arnaut garb,
+ Apostate from his own vile faith,
+ It shall not save him from the death:
+ 'Tis he! well met in any hour,
+ Lost Leila's love--accursed Giaour!"
+
+ As rolls the river into Ocean,[99] 620
+ In sable torrent wildly streaming;
+ As the sea-tide's opposing motion,
+ In azure column proudly gleaming,
+ Beats back the current many a rood,
+ In curling foam and mingling flood,
+ While eddying whirl, and breaking wave,
+ Roused by the blast of winter, rave;
+ Through sparkling spray, in thundering clash,
+ The lightnings of the waters flash
+ In awful whiteness o'er the shore, 630
+ That shines and shakes beneath the roar;
+ Thus--as the stream and Ocean greet,
+ With waves that madden as they meet--
+ Thus join the bands, whom mutual wrong,
+ And fate, and fury, drive along.
+ The bickering sabres' shivering jar;
+ And pealing wide or ringing near
+ Its echoes on the throbbing ear,
+ The deathshot hissing from afar;
+ The shock, the shout, the groan of war, 640
+ Reverberate along that vale,
+ More suited to the shepherd's tale:
+ Though few the numbers--theirs the strife,
+ That neither spares nor speaks for life![dp]
+ Ah! fondly youthful hearts can press,
+ To seize and share the dear caress;
+ But Love itself could never pant
+ For all that Beauty sighs to grant
+ With half the fervour Hate bestows
+ Upon the last embrace of foes, 650
+ When grappling in the fight they fold
+ Those arms that ne'er shall lose their hold:
+ Friends meet to part; Love laughs at faith;
+ True foes, once met, are joined till death!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ With sabre shivered to the hilt,
+ Yet dripping with the blood he spilt;
+ Yet strained within the severed hand
+ Which quivers round that faithless brand;
+ His turban far behind him rolled,
+ And cleft in twain its firmest fold; 660
+ His flowing robe by falchion torn,
+ And crimson as those clouds of morn
+ That, streaked with dusky red, portend
+ The day shall have a stormy end;
+ A stain on every bush that bore
+ A fragment of his palampore;[100]
+ His breast with wounds unnumbered riven,
+ His back to earth, his face to Heaven,
+ Fall'n Hassan lies--his unclosed eye
+ Yet lowering on his enemy, 670
+ As if the hour that sealed his fate[101]
+ Surviving left his quenchless hate;
+ And o'er him bends that foe with brow
+ As dark as his that bled below.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "Yes, Leila sleeps beneath the wave,
+ But his shall be a redder grave;
+ Her spirit pointed well the steel
+ Which taught that felon heart to feel.
+ He called the Prophet, but his power
+ Was vain against the vengeful Giaour: 680
+ He called on Alla--but the word
+ Arose unheeded or unheard.
+ Thou Paynim fool! could Leila's prayer
+ Be passed, and thine accorded there?
+ I watched my time, I leagued with these,
+ The traitor in his turn to seize;
+ My wrath is wreaked, the deed is done,
+ And now I go--but go alone."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ The browsing camels' bells are tinkling:[dq]
+ His mother looked from her lattice high--[102] 690
+ She saw the dews of eve besprinkling
+ The pasture green beneath her eye,
+ She saw the planets faintly twinkling:
+ "'Tis twilight--sure his train is nigh."
+ She could not rest in the garden-bower,
+ But gazed through the grate of his steepest tower.
+ "Why comes he not? his steeds are fleet,
+ Nor shrink they from the summer heat;
+ Why sends not the Bridegroom his promised gift?
+ Is his heart more cold, or his barb less swift? 700
+ Oh, false reproach! yon Tartar now
+ Has gained our nearest mountain's brow,
+ And warily the steep descends,
+ And now within the valley bends;[dr]
+ And he bears the gift at his saddle bow--
+ How could I deem his courser slow?[ds]
+ Right well my largess shall repay
+ His welcome speed, and weary way."
+
+ The Tartar lighted at the gate,
+ But scarce upheld his fainting weight![dt] 710
+ His swarthy visage spake distress,
+ But this might be from weariness;
+ His garb with sanguine spots was dyed,
+ But these might be from his courser's side;
+ He drew the token from his vest--
+ Angel of Death! 'tis Hassan's cloven crest!
+ His calpac[103] rent--his caftan red--
+ "Lady, a fearful bride thy Son hath wed:
+ Me, not from mercy, did they spare,
+ But this empurpled pledge to bear. 720
+ Peace to the brave! whose blood is spilt:
+ Woe to the Giaour! for his the guilt."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ A Turban[104] carved in coarsest stone,
+ A Pillar with rank weeds o'ergrown,
+ Whereon can now be scarcely read
+ The Koran verse that mourns the dead,
+ Point out the spot where Hassan fell
+ A victim in that lonely dell.
+ There sleeps as true an Osmanlie
+ As e'er at Mecca bent the knee; 730
+ As ever scorned forbidden wine,
+ Or prayed with face towards the shrine,
+ In orisons resumed anew
+ At solemn sound of "Alla Hu!"[105]
+ Yet died he by a stranger's hand,
+ And stranger in his native land;
+ Yet died he as in arms he stood,
+ And unavenged, at least in blood.
+ But him the maids of Paradise
+ Impatient to their halls invite, 740
+ And the dark heaven of Houris' eyes
+ On him shall glance for ever bright;
+ They come--their kerchiefs green they wave,[106]
+ And welcome with a kiss the brave!
+ Who falls in battle 'gainst a Giaour
+ Is worthiest an immortal bower.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ But thou, false Infidel! shall writhe
+ Beneath avenging Monkir's[107] scythe;
+ And from its torments 'scape alone
+ To wander round lost Eblis'[108] throne; 750
+ And fire unquenched, unquenchable,
+ Around, within, thy heart shall dwell;
+ Nor ear can hear nor tongue can tell
+ The tortures of that inward hell!
+ But first, on earth as Vampire[109] sent,
+ Thy corse shall from its tomb be rent:
+ Then ghastly haunt thy native place,
+ And suck the blood of all thy race;
+ There from thy daughter, sister, wife,
+ At midnight drain the stream of life; 760
+ Yet loathe the banquet which perforce
+ Must feed thy livid living corse:
+ Thy victims ere they yet expire
+ Shall know the demon for their sire,
+ As cursing thee, thou cursing them,
+ Thy flowers are withered on the stem.
+ But one that for thy crime must fall,
+ The youngest, most beloved of all,
+ Shall bless thee with a _father's_ name--
+ That word shall wrap thy heart in flame! 770
+ Yet must thou end thy task, and mark
+ Her cheek's last tinge, her eye's last spark,
+ And the last glassy glance must view
+ Which freezes o'er its lifeless blue;
+ Then with unhallowed hand shalt tear
+ The tresses of her yellow hair,
+ Of which in life a lock when shorn
+ Affection's fondest pledge was worn,
+ But now is borne away by thee,
+ Memorial of thine agony! 780
+ Wet with thine own best blood shall drip
+ Thy gnashing tooth and haggard lip;[110]
+ Then stalking to thy sullen grave,
+ Go--and with Gouls and Afrits rave;
+ Till these in horror shrink away
+ From Spectre more accursed than they!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "How name ye yon lone Caloyer?[111]
+ His features I have scanned before
+ In mine own land: 'tis many a year,
+ Since, dashing by the lonely shore, 790
+ I saw him urge as fleet a steed
+ As ever served a horseman's need.
+ But once I saw that face, yet then
+ It was so marked with inward pain,
+ I could not pass it by again;
+ It breathes the same dark spirit now,
+ As death were stamped upon his brow.[du]
+
+ "'Tis twice three years at summer tide
+ Since first among our freres he came;
+ And here it soothes him to abide 800
+ For some dark deed he will not name.
+ But never at our Vesper prayer,
+ Nor e'er before Confession chair
+ Kneels he, nor recks he when arise
+ Incense or anthem to the skies,
+ But broods within his cell alone,
+ His faith and race alike unknown.
+ The sea from Paynim land he crost,
+ And here ascended from the coast;
+ Yet seems he not of Othman race, 810
+ But only Christian in his face:
+ I'd judge him some stray renegade,
+ Repentant of the change he made,
+ Save that he shuns our holy shrine,
+ Nor tastes the sacred bread and wine.
+ Great largess to these walls he brought,
+ And thus our Abbot's favour bought;
+ But were I Prior, not a day
+ Should brook such stranger's further stay,
+ Or pent within our penance cell 820
+ Should doom him there for aye to dwell.
+ Much in his visions mutters he
+ Of maiden whelmed beneath the sea;[dv]
+ Of sabres clashing, foemen flying,
+ Wrongs avenged, and Moslem dying.
+ On cliff he hath been known to stand,
+ And rave as to some bloody hand
+ Fresh severed from its parent limb,
+ Invisible to all but him,
+ Which beckons onward to his grave, 830
+ And lures to leap into the wave."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Dark and unearthly is the scowl
+ That glares beneath his dusky cowl:
+ The flash of that dilating eye
+ Reveals too much of times gone by;
+ Though varying, indistinct its hue,
+ Oft with his glance the gazer rue,
+ For in it lurks that nameless spell,
+ Which speaks, itself unspeakable,
+ A spirit yet unquelled and high, 840
+ That claims and keeps ascendancy;
+ And like the bird whose pinions quake,
+ But cannot fly the gazing snake,
+ Will others quail beneath his look,
+ Nor 'scape the glance they scarce can brook.
+ From him the half-affrighted Friar
+ When met alone would fain retire,
+ As if that eye and bitter smile
+ Transferred to others fear and guile:
+ Not oft to smile descendeth he, 850
+ And when he doth 'tis sad to see
+ That he but mocks at Misery.
+ How that pale lip will curl and quiver!
+ Then fix once more as if for ever;
+ As if his sorrow or disdain
+ Forbade him e'er to smile again.
+ Well were it so--such ghastly mirth
+ From joyaunce ne'er derived its birth.
+ But sadder still it were to trace
+ What once were feelings in that face: 860
+ Time hath not yet the features fixed,
+ But brighter traits with evil mixed;
+ And there are hues not always faded,
+ Which speak a mind not all degraded
+ Even by the crimes through which it waded:
+ The common crowd but see the gloom
+ Of wayward deeds, and fitting doom;
+ The close observer can espy
+ A noble soul, and lineage high:
+ Alas! though both bestowed in vain, 870
+ Which Grief could change, and Guilt could stain,
+ It was no vulgar tenement
+ To which such lofty gifts were lent,
+ And still with little less than dread
+ On such the sight is riveted.
+ The roofless cot, decayed and rent,
+ Will scarce delay the passer-by;
+ The tower by war or tempest bent,
+ While yet may frown one battlement,
+ Demands and daunts the stranger's eye; 880
+ Each ivied arch, and pillar lone,
+ Pleads haughtily for glories gone!
+ "His floating robe around him folding,
+ Slow sweeps he through the columned aisle;
+ With dread beheld, with gloom beholding
+ The rites that sanctify the pile.
+ But when the anthem shakes the choir,
+ And kneel the monks, his steps retire;
+ By yonder lone and wavering torch
+ His aspect glares within the porch; 890
+ There will he pause till all is done--
+ And hear the prayer, but utter none.
+ See--by the half-illumined wall[dw]
+ His hood fly back, his dark hair fall,
+ That pale brow wildly wreathing round,
+ As if the Gorgon there had bound
+ The sablest of the serpent-braid
+ That o'er her fearful forehead strayed:
+ For he declines the convent oath,
+ And leaves those locks unhallowed growth, 900
+ But wears our garb in all beside;
+ And, not from piety but pride,
+ Gives wealth to walls that never heard
+ Of his one holy vow nor word.
+ Lo!--mark ye, as the harmony[dx]
+ Peals louder praises to the sky,
+ That livid cheek, that stony air
+ Of mixed defiance and despair!
+ Saint Francis, keep him from the shrine![dy]
+ Else may we dread the wrath divine 910
+ Made manifest by awful sign.
+ If ever evil angel bore
+ The form of mortal, such he wore;
+ By all my hope of sins forgiven,
+ Such looks are not of earth nor heaven!"
+
+ To Love the softest hearts are prone,
+ But such can ne'er be all his own;
+ Too timid in his woes to share,
+ Too meek to meet, or brave despair;
+ And sterner hearts alone may feel 920
+ The wound that Time can never heal.
+ The rugged metal of the mine
+ Must burn before its surface shine,[dz][112]
+ But plunged within the furnace-flame,
+ It bends and melts--though still the same;
+ Then tempered to thy want, or will,
+ 'Twill serve thee to defend or kill--
+ A breast-plate for thine hour of need,
+ Or blade to bid thy foeman bleed;
+ But if a dagger's form it bear, 930
+ Let those who shape its edge, beware!
+ Thus Passion's fire, and Woman's art,
+ Can turn and tame the sterner heart;
+ From these its form and tone are ta'en,
+ And what they make it, must remain,
+ But break--before it bend again.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ If solitude succeed to grief,
+ Release from pain is slight relief;
+ The vacant bosom's wilderness
+ Might thank the pang that made it less.[113] 940
+ We loathe what none are left to share:
+ Even bliss--'twere woe alone to bear;
+ The heart once left thus desolate
+ Must fly at last for ease--to hate.
+ It is as if the dead could feel[114]
+ The icy worm around them steal,
+ And shudder, as the reptiles creep
+ To revel o'er their rotting sleep,
+ Without the power to scare away
+ The cold consumers of their clay! 950
+ It is as if the desert bird,[115]
+ Whose beak unlocks her bosom's stream
+ To still her famished nestlings' scream,
+ Nor mourns a life to them transferred,
+ Should rend her rash devoted breast,
+ And find them flown her empty nest.
+ The keenest pangs the wretched find
+ Are rapture to the dreary void,
+ The leafless desert of the mind,
+ The waste of feelings unemployed. 960
+ Who would be doomed to gaze upon
+ A sky without a cloud or sun?
+ Less hideous far the tempest's roar,
+ Than ne'er to brave the billows more--[ea]
+ Thrown, when the war of winds is o'er,
+ A lonely wreck on Fortune's shore,
+ 'Mid sullen calm, and silent bay,
+ Unseen to drop by dull decay;--
+ Better to sink beneath the shock
+ Than moulder piecemeal on the rock! 970
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "Father! thy, days have passed in peace,
+ 'Mid counted beads, and countless prayer;
+ To bid the sins of others cease,
+ Thyself without a crime or care,
+ Save transient ills that all must bear,
+ Has been thy lot from youth to age;
+ And thou wilt bless thee from the rage
+ Of passions fierce and uncontrolled,
+ Such as thy penitents unfold,
+ Whose secret sins and sorrows rest 980
+ Within thy pure and pitying breast.
+ My days, though few, have passed below
+ In much of Joy, but more of Woe;
+ Yet still in hours of love or strife,
+ I've 'scaped the weariness of Life:
+ Now leagued with friends, now girt by foes,
+ I loathed the languor of repose.
+ Now nothing left to love or hate,
+ No more with hope or pride elate,
+ I'd rather be the thing that crawls 990
+ Most noxious o'er a dungeon's walls,[116]
+ Than pass my dull, unvarying days,
+ Condemned to meditate and gaze.
+ Yet, lurks a wish within my breast
+ For rest--but not to feel 'tis rest.
+ Soon shall my Fate that wish fulfil;
+ And I shall sleep without the dream
+ Of what I was, and would be still
+ Dark as to thee my deeds may seem:[eb]
+ My memory now is but the tomb 1000
+ Of joys long dead; my hope, their doom:
+ 'Though better to have died with those
+ Than bear a life of lingering woes.
+ My spirit shrunk not to sustain
+ The searching throes of ceaseless pain;
+ Nor sought the self-accorded grave
+ Of ancient fool and modern knave:
+ Yet death I have not feared to meet;
+ And in the field it had been sweet,
+ Had Danger wooed me on to move 1010
+ The slave of Glory, not of Love.
+ I've braved it--not for Honour's boast;
+ I smile at laurels won or lost;
+ To such let others carve their way,
+ For high renown, or hireling pay:
+ But place again before my eyes
+ Aught that I deem a worthy prize--
+ The maid I love, the man I hate--
+ And I will hunt the steps of fate,
+ To save or slay, as these require, 1020
+ Through rending steel, and rolling fire:[ec]
+ Nor needst thou doubt this speech from one
+ Who would but do--what he _hath_ done.
+ Death is but what the haughty brave,
+ The weak must bear, the wretch must crave;
+ Then let life go to Him who gave:
+ I have not quailed to Danger's brow
+ When high and happy--need I _now_?
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "I loved her, Friar! nay, adored--
+ But these are words that all can use-- 1030
+ I proved it more in deed than word;
+ There's blood upon that dinted sword,
+ A stain its steel can never lose:
+ 'Twas shed for her, who died for me,
+ It warmed the heart of one abhorred:
+ Nay, start not--no--nor bend thy knee,
+ Nor midst my sin such act record;
+ Thou wilt absolve me from the deed,
+ For he was hostile to thy creed!
+ The very name of Nazarene 1040
+ Was wormwood to his Paynim spleen.
+ Ungrateful fool! since but for brands
+ Well wielded in some hardy hands,
+ And wounds by Galileans given--
+ The surest pass to Turkish heaven--
+ For him his Houris still might wait
+ Impatient at the Prophet's gate.
+ I loved her--Love will find its way
+ Through paths where wolves would fear to prey;
+ And if it dares enough,'twere hard 1050
+ If Passion met not some reward--
+ No matter how, or where, or why,
+ I did not vainly seek, nor sigh:
+ Yet sometimes, with remorse, in vain
+ I wish she had not loved again.
+ She died--I dare not tell thee how;
+ But look--'tis written on my brow!
+ There read of Cain the curse and crime,
+ In characters unworn by Time:
+ Still, ere thou dost condemn me, pause; 1060
+ Not mine the act, though I the cause.
+ Yet did he but what I had done
+ Had she been false to more than one.
+ Faithless to him--he gave the blow;
+ But true to me--I laid him low:
+ Howe'er deserved her doom might be,
+ Her treachery was truth to me;
+ To me she gave her heart, that all
+ Which Tyranny can ne'er enthrall;
+ And I, alas! too late to save! 1070
+ Yet all I then could give, I gave--
+ 'Twas some relief--our foe a grave.[ed]
+ His death sits lightly; but her fate
+ Has made me--what thou well mayst hate.
+ His doom was sealed--he knew it well,
+ Warned by the voice of stern Taheer,
+ Deep in whose darkly boding ear[117]
+ The deathshot pealed of murder near,
+ As filed the troop to where they fell!
+ He died too in the battle broil, 1080
+ A time that heeds nor pain nor toil;
+ One cry to Mahomet for aid,
+ One prayer to Alla all he made:
+ He knew and crossed me in the fray--
+ I gazed upon him where he lay,
+ And watched his spirit ebb away:
+ Though pierced like pard by hunter's steel,
+ He felt not half that now I feel.
+ I searched, but vainly searched, to find
+ The workings of a wounded mind; 1090
+ Each feature of that sullen corse
+ Betrayed his rage, but no remorse.[118]
+ Oh, what had Vengeance given to trace
+ Despair upon his dying face!
+ The late repentance of that hour
+ When Penitence hath lost her power
+ To tear one terror from the grave,[ee]
+ And will not soothe, and cannot save.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "The cold in clime are cold in blood,
+ Their love can scarce deserve the name; 1100
+ But mine was like the lava flood
+ That boils in Ætna's breast of flame.
+ I cannot prate in puling strain
+ Of Ladye-love, and Beauty's chain:
+ If changing cheek, and scorching vein,[ef]
+ Lips taught to writhe, but not complain,
+ If bursting heart, and maddening brain,
+ And daring deed, and vengeful steel,
+ And all that I have felt, and feel,
+ Betoken love--that love was mine, 1110
+ And shown by many a bitter sign.
+ 'Tis true, I could not whine nor sigh,
+ I knew but to obtain or die.
+ I die--but first I have possessed,
+ And come what may, I _have been_ blessed.
+ Shall I the doom I sought upbraid?
+ No--reft of all, yet undismayed[eg]
+ But for the thought of Leila slain,
+ Give me the pleasure with the pain,
+ So would I live and love again. 1120
+ I grieve, but not, my holy Guide!
+ For him who dies, but her who died:
+ She sleeps beneath the wandering wave--
+ Ah! had she but an earthly grave,
+ This breaking heart and throbbing head
+ Should seek and share her narrow bed.
+ She was a form of Life and Light,[119]
+ That, seen, became a part of sight;
+ And rose, where'er I turned mine eye,
+ The Morning-star of Memory! 1130
+
+ "Yes, Love indeed is light from heaven;[eh][120]
+ A spark of that immortal fire
+ With angels shared, by Alia given,
+ To lift from earth our low desire.
+ Devotion wafts the mind above,
+ But Heaven itself descends in Love;
+ A feeling from the Godhead caught,
+ To wean from self each sordid thought;
+ A ray of Him who formed the whole;
+ A Glory circling round the soul! 1140
+ I grant _my_ love imperfect, all
+ That mortals by the name miscall;
+ Then deem it evil, what thou wilt;
+ But say, oh say, _hers_ was not Guilt!
+ She was my Life's unerring Light:
+ That quenched--what beam shall break my night?[ei]
+ Oh! would it shone to lead me still,
+ Although to death or deadliest ill!
+ Why marvel ye, if they who lose
+ This present joy, this future hope, 1150
+ No more with Sorrow meekly cope;
+ In phrensy then their fate accuse;
+ In madness do those fearful deeds
+ That seem to add but Guilt to Woe?
+ Alas! the breast that inly bleeds
+ Hath nought to dread from outward blow:
+ Who falls from all he knows of bliss,
+ Cares little into what abyss.[ej]
+ Fierce as the gloomy vulture's now
+ To thee, old man, my deeds appear: 1160
+ I read abhorrence on thy brow,
+ And this too was I born to bear!
+ 'Tis true, that, like that bird of prey,
+ With havock have I marked my way:
+ But this was taught me by the dove,
+ To die--and know no second love.
+ This lesson yet hath man to learn,
+ Taught by the thing he dares to spurn:
+ The bird that sings within the brake,
+ The swan that swims upon the lake, 1170
+ One mate, and one alone, will take.
+ And let the fool still prone to range,[ek]
+ And sneer on all who cannot change,
+ Partake his jest with boasting boys;
+ I envy not his varied joys,
+ But deem such feeble, heartless man,
+ Less than yon solitary swan;
+ Far, far beneath the shallow maid[el]
+ He left believing and betrayed.
+ Such shame at least was never mine-- 1180
+ Leila! each thought was only thine!
+ My good, my guilt, my weal, my woe,
+ My hope on high--my all below.
+ Each holds no other like to thee,
+ Or, if it doth, in vain for me:
+ For worlds I dare not view the dame
+ Resembling thee, yet not the same.
+ The very crimes that mar my youth,
+ This bed of death--attest my truth!
+ 'Tis all too late--thou wert, thou art 1190
+ The cherished madness of my heart![em]
+
+ "And she was lost--and yet I breathed,
+ But not the breath of human life:
+ A serpent round my heart was wreathed,
+ And stung my every thought to strife.
+ Alike all time, abhorred all place,[en]
+ Shuddering I shrank from Nature's face,
+ Where every hue that charmed before
+ The blackness of my bosom wore.
+ The rest thou dost already know, 1200
+ And all my sins, and half my woe.
+ But talk no more of penitence;
+ Thou seest I soon shall part from hence:
+ And if thy holy tale were true,
+ The deed that's done canst _thou_ undo?
+ Think me not thankless--but this grief
+ Looks not to priesthood for relief.[eo][121]
+ My soul's estate in secret guess:
+ But wouldst thou pity more, say less.
+ When thou canst bid my Leila live, 1210
+ Then will I sue thee to forgive;
+ Then plead my cause in that high place
+ Where purchased masses proffer grace.[ep]
+ Go, when the hunter's hand hath wrung
+ From forest-cave her shrieking young,
+ And calm the lonely lioness:
+ But soothe not--mock not _my_ distress!
+
+ "In earlier days, and calmer hours,
+ When heart with heart delights to blend,
+ Where bloom my native valley's bowers,[eq] 1220
+ I had--Ah! have I now?--a friend![er]
+ To him this pledge I charge thee send,[es]
+ Memorial of a youthful vow;
+ I would remind him of my end:
+ Though souls absorbed like mine allow
+ Brief thought to distant Friendship's claim,
+ Yet dear to him my blighted name.
+ 'Tis strange--he prophesied my doom,
+ And I have smiled--I then could smile--
+ When Prudence would his voice assume, 1230
+ And warn--I recked not what--the while:
+ But now Remembrance whispers o'er[et]
+ Those accents scarcely marked before.
+ Say--that his bodings came to pass,
+ And he will start to hear their truth,
+ And wish his words had not been sooth:
+ Tell him--unheeding as I was,
+ Through many a busy bitter scene
+ Of all our golden youth had been,
+ In pain, my faltering tongue had tried 1240
+ To bless his memory--ere I died;
+ But Heaven in wrath would turn away,
+ If Guilt should for the guiltless pray.
+ I do not ask him not to blame,
+ Too gentle he to wound my name;
+ And what have I to do with Fame?
+ I do not ask him not to mourn,
+ Such cold request might sound like scorn;
+ And what than Friendship's manly tear
+ May better grace a brother's bier? 1250
+ But bear this ring, his own of old,
+ And tell him--what thou dost behold!
+ The withered frame, the ruined mind,
+ The wrack by passion left behind,
+ A shrivelled scroll, a scattered leaf,
+ Seared by the autumn blast of Grief!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "Tell me no more of Fancy's gleam,
+ No, father, no,'twas not a dream;
+ Alas! the dreamer first must sleep,
+ I only watched, and wished to weep; 1260
+ But could not, for my burning brow
+ Throbbed to the very brain as now:
+ I wished but for a single tear,
+ As something welcome, new, and dear:
+ I wished it then, I wish it still;
+ Despair is stronger than my will.
+ Waste not thine orison, despair[eu]
+ Is mightier than thy pious prayer:
+ I would not, if I might, be blest;
+ I want no Paradise, but rest. 1270
+ 'Twas then--I tell thee--father! then
+ I saw her; yes, she lived again;
+ And shining in her white symar[122]
+ As through yon pale gray cloud the star
+ Which now I gaze on, as on her,
+ Who looked and looks far lovelier;
+ Dimly I view its trembling spark;[ev]
+ To-morrow's night shall be more dark;
+ And I, before its rays appear,
+ That lifeless thing the living fear. 1280
+ I wander--father! for my soul
+ Is fleeting towards the final goal.
+ I saw her--friar! and I rose
+ Forgetful of our former woes;
+ And rushing from my couch, I dart,
+ And clasp her to my desperate heart;
+ I clasp--what is it that I clasp?
+ No breathing form within my grasp,
+ No heart that beats reply to mine--
+ Yet, Leila! yet the form is thine! 1290
+ And art thou, dearest, changed so much
+ As meet my eye, yet mock my touch?
+ Ah! were thy beauties e'er so cold,
+ I care not--so my arms enfold
+ The all they ever wished to hold.
+ Alas! around a shadow prest
+ They shrink upon my lonely breast;
+ Yet still 'tis there! In silence stands,
+ And beckons with beseeching hands!
+ With braided hair, and bright-black eye-- 1300
+ I knew 'twas false--she could not die!
+ But _he_ is dead! within the dell
+ I saw him buried where he fell;
+ He comes not--for he cannot break
+ From earth;--why then art _thou_ awake?
+ They told me wild waves rolled above
+ The face I view--the form I love;
+ They told me--'twas a hideous tale!--
+ I'd tell it, but my tongue would fail:
+ If true, and from thine ocean-cave 1310
+ Thou com'st to claim a calmer grave,
+ Oh! pass thy dewy fingers o'er
+ This brow that then will burn no more;
+ Or place them on my hopeless heart:
+ But, Shape or Shade! whate'er thou art,
+ In mercy ne'er again depart!
+ Or farther with thee bear my soul
+ Than winds can waft or waters roll!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "Such is my name, and such my tale.
+ Confessor! to thy secret ear 1320
+ I breathe the sorrows I bewail,
+ And thank thee for the generous tear
+ This glazing eye could never shed.
+ Then lay me with the humblest dead,[ew]
+ And, save the cross above my head,
+ Be neither name nor emblem spread,
+ By prying stranger to be read,
+ Or stay the passing pilgrim's tread."[123]
+
+ He passed--nor of his name and race
+ He left a token or a trace, 1330
+ Save what the Father must not say
+ Who shrived him on his dying day:
+ This broken tale was all we knew[ex]
+ Of her he loved, or him he slew.
+
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[55] {85} A tomb above the rocks on the promontory, by some supposed the
+sepulchre of Themistocles.
+
+["There are," says Cumberland, in his _Observer_, "a few lines by Plato
+upon the tomb of Themistocles, which have a turn of elegant and pathetic
+simplicity in them, that deserves a better translation than I can give--
+
+ "'By the sea's margin, on the watery strand,
+ Thy monument, Themistocles, shall stand:
+ By this directed to thy native shore,
+ The merchant shall convey his freighted store;
+ And when our fleets are summoned to the fight
+ Athens shall conquer with thy tomb in sight.'"
+
+ Note to Edition 1832.
+
+The traditional site of the tomb of Themistocles, "a rock-hewn grave on
+the very margin of the sea generally covered with water," adjoins the
+lighthouse, which stands on the westernmost promontory of the Piræus,
+some three quarters of a mile from the entrance to the harbour.
+Plutarch, in his _Themistocles_ (cap. xxxii.), is at pains to describe
+the exact site of the "altar-like tomb," and quotes the passage from
+Plato (the comic poet, B.C. 428-389) which Cumberland paraphrases. Byron
+and Hobhouse "made the complete circuit of the peninsula of Munychia,"
+January 18, 1810.--_Travels in Albania_, 1858, i. 317, 318.]
+
+[cg] {86}
+ _Fair clime! where_ ceaseless summer _smiles_
+ _Benignant o'er those blessed isles_,
+ _Which seen from far Colonna's height_,
+ _Make glad the heart that hails the sight_,
+ _And lend to loneliness delight_.
+ _There_ shine the bright abodes ye seek,
+ Like dimples upon Occan's cheek,
+ So smiling round the waters lave
+ _These Edens of the Eastern wave_.
+ Or _if, at times, the transient breeze_
+ _Break the_ smooth _crystal of the seas_,
+ _Or_ brush _one blossom from the trees_,
+ _How_ grateful _is each gentle air_
+ _That wakes and wafts the_ fragrance _there_.--[MS.]
+ ----_the fragrance there_.--[Second Edition.]
+
+[56] The attachment of the nightingale to the rose is a well-known
+Persian fable. If I mistake not, the "Bulbul of a thousand tales" is one
+of his appellations.
+
+[Thus Mesihi, as translated by Sir William Jones--
+
+ "Come, charming maid! and hear thy poet sing,
+ Thyself the rose and he the bird of spring:
+ Love bids him sing, and Love will be obey'd.
+ Be gay: too soon the flowers of spring will fade."
+
+"The full style and title of the Persian nightingale (_Pycnonotus
+hæmorrhous_) is 'Bulbul-i-hazár-dástán,' usually shortened to 'Hazar'
+(bird of a thousand tales = the thousand), generally called 'Andalib.'"
+(See _Arabian Nights_, by Richard F. Burton, 1887; _Supplemental
+Nights_, iii. 506.) For the nightingale's attachment to the rose,
+compare Moore's _Lalla Rookh_--
+
+ "Oh! sooner shall the rose of May
+ Mistake her own sweet nightingale," etc.
+
+ (Ed. "Chandos Classics," p. 423)
+
+and Fitzgerald's translation of the _Rubáiyát_ of Omar Khayyám (stanza
+vi.)--
+
+ "And David's lips are lockt; but in divine
+ High piping Pehlevi, with 'Wine! Wine! Wine!
+ Red Wine!'--the Nightingale cries to the Rose
+ That sallow cheek of hers to incarnadine."
+
+ _Rubáiyát, etc._, 1899, p. 29, and note, p. 62.
+
+Byron was indebted for his information to a note on a passage in
+_Vathek_, by S. Henley (_Vathek_, 1893, p. 217).]
+
+[57] {87} The guitar is the constant amusement of the Greek sailor by
+night; with a steady fair wind, and during a calm, it is accompanied
+always by the voice, and often by dancing.
+
+[ch] {88} _Should wanton in a wilderness_.--[MS.]
+
+[ci] The first draft of this celebrated passage differs in many
+particulars from the Fair Copy, which, with the exception of the
+passages marked as _vars._ i. (p. 89) and i. (p. 90), is the same as the
+text. It ran as follows:--
+
+ _He who hath bent him o'er the dead_
+ _Ere the first day of death is fled_--
+ _The first dark day of Nothingness_
+ _The last of_ doom _and of distress_--
+ _Before_ Corruption's _cankering fingers_
+ _Hath_ tinged the hue _where Beauty lingers_
+ _And marked_ the soft and settled _air_
+ That dwells with all but Spirit there
+ _The fixed yet tender_ lines _that speak_
+ Of Peace along _the placid cheek_
+ _And--but for that sad shrouded eye_
+ _That fires not_--pleads _not--weeps not--now--_
+ _And but for that pale_ chilling _brow_
+ Whose touch tells of Mortality
+ {-And curdles to the Gazer's heart-}
+ _As if to him it could impart_
+ _The doom_ he only _looks upon_--
+ _Yes but for these and these alone_,
+ A moment--yet--a little hour
+ We _still might doubt the Tyrant's power_.
+
+The eleven lines following (88-98) were not emended in the Fair Copy,
+and are included in the text. The Fair Copy is the sole MS. authority
+for the four concluding lines of the paragraph.
+
+[58] [Compare "Beyond Milan the country wore the aspect of a wider
+devastation; and though everything seemed more quiet, the repose was
+like that of death spread over features which retain the impression of
+the last convulsions."--_Mysteries of Udolpho_, by Mrs. Ann Radcliffe,
+1794, ii. 29.]
+
+[cj] {89}
+ _And marked the almost dreaming air_,
+ _Which speaks the sweet repose that's there_.--
+
+ [MS. of Fair Copy.]
+
+[59] {90}
+ "Aye, but to die, and go we know not where;
+ To lie in cold obstruction?"
+
+ _Measure for Measure_, act iii. sc. I, lines 115, 116.
+
+[Compare, too, _Childe Harold_, Canto II. stanza iv. line 5.]
+
+[ck]
+ _Whose touch thrills with mortality_,
+ _And curdles to the gazer's heart_.--[MS. of Fair Copy.]
+
+[60] I trust that few of my readers have ever had an opportunity of
+witnessing what is here attempted in description; but those who have
+will probably retain a painful remembrance of that singular beauty which
+pervades, with few exceptions, the features of the dead, a few hours,
+and but for a few hours, after "the spirit is not there." It is to be
+remarked in cases of violent death by gun-shot wounds, the expression is
+always that of languor, whatever the natural energy of the sufferer's
+character; but in death from a stab the countenance preserves its traits
+of feeling or ferocity, and the mind its bias, to the last. [According
+to Medwin (1824, 4to, p. 223), an absurd charge, based on the details of
+this note, was brought against Byron, that he had been guilty of murder,
+and spoke from experience.]
+
+[61] [In Dallaway's _Constantinople_ (p. 2) [Rev. James Dallaway
+(1763-1834) published _Constantinople Ancient and Modern, etc_., in
+1797], a book which Lord Byron is not unlikely to have consulted, I find
+a passage quoted from Gillies' _History of Greece_(vol. i. p. 335),
+which contains, perhaps, the first seed of the thought thus expanded
+into full perfection by genius: "The present state of Greece, compared
+to the ancient, is the silent obscurity of the grave contrasted with the
+vivid lustre of active life."--Moore, _Note to Edition_ 1832.]
+
+[62] {91} [From hence to the conclusion of the paragraph, the MS. is
+written in a hurried and almost illegible hand, as if these splendid
+lines had been poured forth in one continuous burst of poetic feeling,
+which would hardly allow time for the pen to follow the
+imagination.--(_Note to Edition_ 1837. The lines were added to the
+Second Edition.)]
+
+[cl] _Fountain of Wisdom! can it be_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[63] [Compare--
+
+ "Son of the Morning, rise! approach you here!"
+
+ _Childe Harold_, Canto II. stanza iii. line 1.]
+
+[cm]
+ _Why is not this Thermopylæ_;
+ _These waters blue that round you lave_
+ _Degenerate offspring of the free_--
+ _How name ye them what shore is this?_
+ _The wave, the rock of Salamis?_--[MS.]
+
+[cn] {92}
+ _And he who in the cause expires_,
+ _Will add a name and fate to them_
+ _Well worthy of his noble stem_.--[MS.]
+
+[co] _Commenced by Sire--renewed by Son_.--[MS.]
+
+[cp]
+ _Attest it many a former age_
+ _While kings in dark oblivion hid_.--[MS.]
+
+[cq] _There let the Muse direct thine eye_.--[MS.]
+
+[cr] {93} _The hearts amid thy mountains bred_.--[MS.]
+
+[64] Athens is the property of the Kislar Aga [kizlar-aghasî] (the slave
+of the Seraglio and guardian of the women), who appoints the Waywode. A
+pander and eunuch--these are not polite, yet true appellations--now
+_governs_ the _governor_ of Athens!
+
+[Hobhouse maintains that this subordination of the waiwodes (or vaivodes
+= the Sclavic [Greek: boebo/da]) (Turkish governors of Athens) to a
+higher Turkish official, was on the whole favourable to the liberties
+and well-being of the Athenians.--_Travels in Albania_, 1858, i. 246.]
+
+[cs]
+ _Now to the neighbouring shores they waft_
+ _Their ancient and proverbial craft_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[ct] {94} _he silent slants the doubtful creek_.--[MS]
+
+[65] [The reciter of the tale is a Turkish fisherman, who has been
+employed during the day in the gulf of Ægina, and in the evening,
+apprehensive of the Mainote pirates who infest the coast of Attica,
+lands with his boat on the harbour of Port Leone, the ancient Piræus. He
+becomes the eye-witness of nearly all the incidents in the story, and in
+one of them is a principal agent. It is to his feelings, and
+particularly to his religious prejudices, that we are indebted for some
+of the most forcible and splendid parts of the poem.--Note by George
+Agar Ellis, 1797-1833.]
+
+[66] [In Dr. Clarke's Travels (Edward Daniel Clarke, 1769-1822,
+published _Travels in Europe, Asia, Africa_, 1810-24), this word, which
+means _infidel_, is always written according to its English
+pronunciation, _Djour_. Byron adopted the Italian spelling usual among
+the Franks of the Levant.--_Note to Edition_ 1832.
+
+The pronunciation of the word depends on its origin. If it is associated
+with the Arabic _jawr_, a "deviating" or "erring," the initial consonant
+would be soft, but if with the Persian _gawr_, or _guebre_, "a
+fire-worshipper," the word should be pronounced _Gow-er_--as Gower
+Street has come to be pronounced. It is to be remarked that to the
+present day the Nestorians of Urumiah are contemned as _Gy-ours_ (the _G_
+hard), by their Mohammedan countrymen.--(From information kindly
+supplied by Mr. A. G. Ellis, of the Oriental Printed Books and MSS.
+Department, British Museum.)]
+
+[cu] {95} _Though scarcely marked_----.--[MS.]
+
+[cv]
+ _With him my wonder as he flew_.--[MS.]
+ _With him my roused and wondering view_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[cw] {96} _For him who takes so fast a flight_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[67] [Compare--
+
+ "A moment now he slacked his speed,
+ A moment breathed his panting steed."
+
+Scott's _Lay of the Last Minstrel_, Canto I. stanza xxvii. lines 1, 2.]
+
+[cx] _And looked along the olive wood_.--[MS.]
+
+[68] "Tophaike," musket. The Bairam is announced by the cannon at
+sunset: the illumination of the mosques, and the firing of all kinds of
+small arms, loaded with _ball_, proclaim it during the night. [The
+Bairâm, the Moslem Easter, a festival of three days, succeeded the
+Ramazân.]
+
+For the illumination of the mosques during the fast of the Ramazân, see
+_Childe Harold_, Canto II. stanza lv. line 5, _Poetical Works_, 1899,
+ii. 134, note 2.
+
+[cy] {97} _Of transient Anger's Darkening blush_.--[MS.]
+
+[69] [For "hasty," all the editions till the twelfth read "_darkening_
+blush." On the back of a copy of the eleventh, Lord Byron has written,
+"Why did not the printer attend to the solitary correction so repeatedly
+made? I have no copy of this, and desire to have none till my request is
+complied with." _Notes to Editions_ 1832, 1837.]
+
+[cz]
+ _As doubting if to stay or fly_--
+ _Then turned it swiftly to his blade;_
+ _As loud his raven charger neighed_--
+ _That sound dispelled his waking dream_,
+ _As sleepers start at owlet's scream_.--[MS.]
+
+[70] Jerreed, or Djerrid [Jarid], a blunted Turkish javelin, which is
+darted from horseback with great force and precision. It is a favourite
+exercise of the Mussulmans; but I know not if it can be called a _manly_
+one, since the most expert in the art are the Black Eunuchs of
+Constantinople. I think, next to these, a Mamlouk at Smyrna was the most
+skilful that came within my observation. [Lines 250, 251, together with
+the note, were inserted in the Third Edition.]
+
+[da] {98}
+ _'Twas but an instant, though so long_
+ _When thus dilated in my song_.
+ _'Twas but an instant_----.--[MS.]
+
+[db]
+ _Such moment holds a thousand years_.
+ or, _Such moment proves the grief of years_.--[MS.]
+
+[71] ["Lord Byron told Mr. Murray that he took this idea from one of the
+Arabian tales--that in which the Sultan puts his head into a butt of
+water, and, though it remains there for only two or three minutes, he
+imagines that he lives many years during that time. The story had been
+quoted by Addison in the _Spectator_" [No. 94, June 18, 1711].--_Memoir
+of John Murray_, 1891, i. 219, note.]
+
+[72] [Lines 271-276 were added in the Third Edition. The MS. proceeds
+with a direction (dated July 31, 1813) to the printer--"And alter
+
+ 'A life of _woe_--an age of crime--'
+
+to
+
+ 'A life of _pain_--an age of crime.'
+
+Alter also the lines
+
+ 'On him who loves or hates or fears
+ Such moment holds a thousand years,'
+
+to
+
+ 'O'er him who loves or hates or fears
+ Such moment pours the grief of years.'"]
+
+[dc] {99} _But neither fled nor fell alone_.--[MS.]
+
+[73] The blast of the desert, fatal to everything living, and often
+alluded to in Eastern poetry.
+
+[James Bruce, 1730-1794 (nicknamed "Abyssinian Bruce"), gives a
+remarkable description of the simoom: "I saw from the south-east a haze
+come, in colour like the purple part of the rainbow, but not so
+compressed or thick. It did not occupy twenty yards in breadth, and was
+about twelve feet high from the ground. It was a kind of blush upon the
+air, and it moved very rapidly.... We all lay flat on the ground ...
+till it was blown over. The meteor, or purple haze, which I saw was,
+indeed, passed, but the light air which still blew was of a heat to
+threaten suffocation." He goes on to say that he did not recover the
+effect of the sandblast on his chest for nearly two years (Brace's _Life
+and Travels_, ed. 1830, p. 470).--Note to Edition 1832.]
+
+[dd] There are two MS. versions of lines 290-298: (A) a rough copy, and
+(B) a fair copy--
+
+ (A) _And wide the Spider's thin grey pall_
+ _Is curtained on the splendid wall_--
+ _The Bat hath built in his mother's bower_,
+ _And in the fortress of his power_
+ _The Owl hath fixed her beacon tower_,
+ _The wild dogs howl on the fountain's brim_
+ _With baffled thirst and famine grim_,
+ _For the stream is shrunk from its marble bed_
+ _Where Desolation's dust is spread_.--[MS.]
+
+ B. ["August 5, 1813, in last of 3rd or first of 4th ed."]
+ _The lonely Spider's thin grey pall_
+ _Is curtained o'er the splendid wall_--
+ _The Bat builds in his mother's bower;_
+ _And in the fortress of his power_
+ _The Owl hath fixed her beacon-tower_,
+ _The wild dog howls o'er the fountain's brink_,
+ _But vainly lolls his tongue to drink_.--[MS.]
+
+[74] {100} [Compare "The walls of Balclutha were desolated.... The
+stream of Clutha was removed from its place by the fall of the walls.
+The fox looked out from the windows" (Ossian's _Balclutha_). "The dreary
+night-owl screams in the solitary retreat of his mouldering ivy-covered
+tower" (_Larnul, or the Song of Despair: Poems of Ossian_, discovered by
+the Baron de Harold, 1787, p. 172). Compare, too, the well-known lines,
+"The spider holds the veil in the palace of Cæsar; the owl stands
+sentinel on the watch-tower of Afrasyab" (_A Grammar of the Persian
+Language_, by Sir W. Jones, 1809, p. 106).]
+
+[de]
+ _The silver dew of coldness sprinkling_
+ _In drops fantastically twinkling_
+ _As from the spring the silver dew_
+ _In whirls fantastically flew_
+ _And dashed luxurions coolness round_
+ _The air--and verdure on the ground_.--[MS.]
+
+[df] {101}
+ _For thirsty Fox and Jackal gaunt_
+ _May vainly for its waters pant_.--[MS.]
+ or, _The famished fox the wild dog gaunt_
+ _May vainly for its waters pant_.--[MS.]
+
+[dg] _Might strike an echo_----.--[MS.]
+
+[dh] {102}
+ _And welcome Life though but in one_
+ _For many a gilded chamber's there_
+ _Unmeet for Solitude to share_.--- [MS.]
+
+[75] ["I have just recollected an alteration you may make in the
+proof.... Among the lines on Hassan's Serai, is this--'Unmeet for
+Solitude to share.' Now, to share implies more than _one_, and Solitude
+is a single gentlewoman: it must be thus--
+
+ 'For many a gilded chamber's there,
+ Which Solitude might well forbear;'
+
+and so on. Will you adopt this correction? and pray accept a cheese from
+me for your trouble."--Letter to John Murray, Stilton, October 3, 1813,
+_Letters_, 1898, ii. 274.]
+
+[di] _To share the Master's "bread and salt."_--[MS.]
+
+[76] [To partake of food--to break bread and taste salt with your host,
+ensures the safety of the guest: even though an enemy, his person from
+that moment becomes sacred.--(Note appended to Letter of October 3,
+1813.)
+
+"I leave this (_vide supra_, note 1) to your discretion; if anybody
+thinks the old line a good one or the cheese a bad one, don't accept
+either. But in that case the word _share_ is repeated soon after in the
+line--
+
+ 'To share the master's bread and salt;'
+
+and must be altered to--
+
+ 'To break the master's bread and salt.'
+
+This is not so well, though--confound it!
+
+If the old line ['Unmeet for Solitude to share'] stands, let the other
+run thus--
+
+ 'Nor there will weary traveller halt,
+ To bless the sacred bread and salt.'"
+
+ (P.S. to Murray, October 3, 1813.)
+
+The emendation of line 335 made that of line 343 unnecessary, but both
+emendations were accepted.
+
+(Moore says (_Life_; p. 191, note) that the directions are written on a
+separate slip of paper from the letter to Murray of October 3, 1813).]
+
+[dj] {103}
+ _And cold Hospitality shrinks from the labour_,
+ _The slave fled his halter and the serf left his labour_.--[MS.]
+ or, _Ah! there Hospitality light is thy labour_,
+ or, _Ah! who for the traveller's solace will labour?_--[MS.]
+
+[77] I need hardly observe, that Charity and Hospitality are the first
+duties enjoined by Mahomet; and to say truth, very generally practised
+by his disciples. The first praise that can be bestowed on a chief is a
+panegyric on his bounty; the next, on his valour. ["Serve God ... and
+show kindness unto parents, and relations, and orphans, and the poor,
+and your neighbour who is of kin to you ... and the traveller, and the
+captives," etc.--_Korân_, cap. iv. Lines 350, 351 were inserted in the
+Fifth Edition.]
+
+[78] The ataghan, a long dagger worn with pistols in the belt, in a
+metal scabbard, generally of silver; and, among the wealthier, gilt, or
+of gold.
+
+[79] Green is the privileged colour of the prophet's numerous pretended
+descendants; with them, as here, faith (the family inheritance) is
+supposed to supersede the necessity of good works: they are the worst of
+a very indifferent brood.
+
+[80] {104} "Salam aleikoum! aleikoum salam!" peace be with you; be with
+you peace--the salutation reserved for the faithful:--to a Christian,
+"Urlarula!" a good journey; or "saban hiresem, saban serula," good morn,
+good even; and sometimes, "may your end be happy!" are the usual
+salutes.
+
+["After both sets of prayers, Farz and Sunnah, the Moslem looks over his
+right shoulder, and says, 'The Peace (of Allah) be upon you and the ruth
+of Allah,' and repeats the words over the left shoulder. The salutation
+is addressed to the Guardian Angels, or to the bystanders (Moslem), who,
+however, do not return it."--_Arabian Nights_, by Richard F. Burton,
+1887: _Supplemental Nights_, i. 14, note.]
+
+[dk]
+ _Take ye and give ye that salam_,
+ _That says of Moslem faith I am_.--[MS.]
+
+[dl] _Which one of yonder barks may wait_.--[MS.]
+
+[81] [In the MS. and the first five editions the broken line (373)
+consisted of two words only, "That one."]
+
+[82] The blue-winged butterfly of Kashmeer, the most rare and beautiful
+of the species.
+
+[The same insects (butterflies of Cachemir) are celebrated in an
+unpublished poem of Mesihi.... Sir Anthony Shirley relates that it was
+customary in Persia "to hawk after butterflies with sparrows, made to
+that use."--Note by S. Henley to _Vathek_, ed. 1893, p. 222. Byron, in
+his Journal, December 1, 1813, speaks of Lady Charlemont as "that
+blue-winged Kashmirian butterfly of book-learning."]
+
+[dm] _If caught, to fate alike betrayed_.-[MS.]
+
+[dn] {106} _The gathering flames around her close_.-[MS. erased.]
+
+[83] {107} Alluding to the dubious suicide of the scorpion, so placed
+for experiment by gentle philosophers. Some maintain that the position
+of the sting, when turned towards the head, is merely a convulsive
+movement; but others have actually brought in the verdict "Felo de se."
+The scorpions are surely interested in a speedy decision of the
+question; as, if once fairly established as insect Catos, they will
+probably be allowed to live as long as they think proper, without being
+martyred for the sake of an hypothesis.
+
+[Byron assured Dallas that the simile of the scorpion was imagined in
+his sleep.--_Recollections of the Life of Lord Byron_, by R. C. Dallas,
+p. 264.
+
+"Probably in some instances the poor scorpion has been burnt to death;
+and the well-known habit of these creatures to raise the tail over the
+back and recurve it so that the extremity touches the fore part of the
+cephalo-thorax, has led to the idea that it was stinging
+itself."--_Encycl. Brit_., art. "Arachnida," by Rev. O. P. Cambridge,
+ii. 281.]
+
+[do] _So writhes the mind by Conscience riven_.--[MS.]
+
+[84] The cannon at sunset close the Rhamazan. [Compare _Childe Harold_,
+Canto II. stanza Iv. line 5, _Poetical Works_, 1899, ii. 134. note 2.]
+
+[85] {108} Phingari, the moon. [[Greek: phenga/ri] is derived from
+[Greek: phenga/rion,] dim. of [Greek: phe/ngos.]]
+
+[86] The celebrated fabulous ruby of Sultan Giamschid, the embellisher
+of Istakhar; from its splendour, named Schebgerag [Schabchir[=a]gh], "the
+torch of night;" also "the cup of the sun," etc. In the First Edition,
+"Giamschid" was written as a word of three syllables; so D'Herbelot has
+it; but I am told Richardson reduces it to a dissyllable, and writes
+"Jamshid." I have left in the text the orthography of the one with the
+pronunciation of the other.
+
+[The MS. and First Edition read, "Bright as the gem of Giamschid."
+Byron's first intention was to change the line into "Bright as the ruby
+of Giamschid;" but to this Moore objected, "that as the comparison of
+his heroine's eye to a ruby might unluckily call up the idea of its
+being bloodshot, he had better change the line to 'Bright as the jewel,'
+etc."
+
+For the original of Byron's note, see S. Henley's note, _Vathek,_ 1893,
+p. 230. See, too, D'Herbelot's _Bibliothèque Orientale_, 1781, iii. 27.
+
+Sir Richard Burton (_Arabian Nights, S.N._, iii. 440) gives the
+following _résumé_ of the conflicting legends: "Jám-i-jámshid is a
+well-known commonplace in Moslem folk-lore; but commentators cannot
+agree whether 'Jám' be a mirror or a cup. In the latter sense it would
+represent the Cyathomantic cup of the Patriarch Joseph, and the symbolic
+bowl of Nestor. Jamshid may be translated either 'Jam the bright,' or
+'the Cup of the Sun;' this ancient king is the Solomon of the grand old
+Guebres."
+
+Fitzgerald, "in a very composite quatrain (stanza v.) which cannot be
+claimed as a translation at all" (see the _Rubáiyát_ of Omar Khayya[=a]m,
+by Edward Heron Allen, 1898), embodies a late version of the myth--
+
+ "Iram is gone and all his Rose,
+ And Jamshyd's sev'n-ringed Cup where no one knows."]
+
+[87] {109} Al-Sirat, the bridge of breadth narrower than the thread of a
+famished spider, and sharper than the edge of a sword, over which the
+Mussulmans must _skate_ into Paradise, to which it is the only entrance;
+but this is not the worst, the river beneath being hell itself, into
+which, as may be expected, the unskilful and tender of foot contrive to
+tumble with a "facilis descensus Averni," not very pleasing in prospect
+to the next passenger. There is a shorter cut downwards for the Jews and
+Christians.
+
+[Byron is again indebted to _Vathek_, and S. Henley on _Vathek,_ p. 237,
+for his information. The authority for the legend of the Bridge of
+Paradise is not the Koran, but the Book of Mawakef, quoted by Edward
+Pococke, in his Commentary (_Notæ Miscellaneæ_) on the _Porta Mosis_ of
+Moses Maimonides (Oxford, 1654, p. 288)--
+
+"Stretched across the back of Hell, it is narrower than a javelin,
+sharper than the edge of a sword. But all must essay the passage,
+believers as well as infidels, and it baffles the understanding to
+imagine in what manner they keep their foothold."
+
+The legend, or rather allegory, to which there would seem to be some
+allusion in the words of Scripture, "Strait is the gate," etc., is of
+Zoroastrian origin. Compare the _Zend-Avesta_, Yasna xix. 6 (_Sacred
+Books of the East_, edited by F. Max Muller, 1887, xxxi. 261), "With
+even threefold (safety and with speed) I will bring his soul over the
+Bridge of Kinvat," etc.]
+
+[88] {110} A vulgar error: the Koran allots at least a third of Paradise
+to well-behaved women; but by far the greater number of Mussulmans
+interpret the text their own way, and exclude their moieties from
+heaven. Being enemies to Platonics, they cannot discern "any fitness of
+things" in the souls of the other sex, conceiving them to be superseded
+by the Houris.
+
+[Sale, in his _Preliminary Discourse_ ("Chandos Classics," p. 80), in
+dealing with this question, notes "that there are several passages in
+the Koran which affirm that women, in the next life, will not only be
+punished for their evil actions, but will also receive the rewards of
+their good deeds, as well as the men, and that in this case God will
+make no distinction of sexes." A single quotation will suffice: "God has
+promised to believers, men and women, gardens beneath which rivers flow,
+to dwell therein for aye; and goodly places in the garden of
+Eden."--_The Qur'ân_, translated by E. H. Palmer, 1880, vi. 183.]
+
+[89] An Oriental simile, which may, perhaps, though fairly stolen, be
+deemed "plus Arabe qu'en Arabie."
+
+[Gulnár (the heroine of the _Corsair_ is named Gulnare) is Persian for a
+pomegranate flower.]
+
+[90] Hyacinthine, in Arabic "Sunbul;" as common a thought in the Eastern
+poets as it was among the Greeks.
+
+[S. Henley (_Vathek_, 1893, p. 208) quotes two lines from the _Solima_
+(lines 5, 6) of Sir W. Jones--
+
+ "The fragrant hyacinths of Azza's hair
+ That wanton with the laughing summer-air;"
+
+and refers Milton's "Hyacinthine locks" (_Paradise Lost_, iv. 301) to
+Lucian's _Pro Imaginibus_, cap. v.]
+
+[91] {111} "Franguestan," Circassia. [Or Europe generally--the land of
+the Frank.]
+
+[92] [Lines 504-518 were inserted in the second revise of the Third
+Edition, July 31, 1813.]
+
+[93] {113} [Parnassus.]
+
+[94] "In the name of God;" the commencement of all the chapters of the
+Koran but one [the ninth], and of prayer and thanksgiving. ["Bismillah"
+(in full, _Bismillahi 'rrahmani 'rrahiem_, i.e. "In the name of Allah
+the God of Mercy, the Merciful") is often used as a deprecatory formula.
+Sir R. Burton (_Arabian Nights_, i. 40) cites as an equivalent the
+"remembering Iddio e' Santí," of Boccaccio's _Decameron_, viii. 9.
+
+The MS. reads, "Thank Alla! now the peril's past."]
+
+[95] [A Turkish messenger, sergeant or lictor. The proper
+sixteen-seventeenth century pronunciation would have been _chaush_, but
+apparently the nearest approach to this was _chaus_, whence _chouse_ and
+_chiaush_, and the vulgar form _chiaus_ (_N. Eng. Dict_., art.
+"Chiaus"). The peculations of a certain "chiaus" in the year A.D. 1000
+are said to have been the origin of the word "to chouse."]
+
+[96] {114} A phenomenon not uncommon with an angry Mussulman. In 1809
+the Capitan Pacha's whiskers at a diplomatic audience were no less
+lively with indignation than a tiger cat's, to the horror of all the
+dragomans; the portentous mustachios twisted, they stood erect of their
+own accord, and were expected every moment to change their colour, but
+at last condescended to subside, which, probably, saved more heads than
+they contained hairs.
+
+[97] {115} "Amaun," quarter, pardon.
+
+[Line 603 was inserted in a proof of the Second Edition, dated July 24,
+1813: "Nor raised the _coward_ cry, Amaun!"]
+
+[98] The "evil eye," a common superstition in the Levant, and of which
+the imaginary effects are yet very singular on those who conceive
+themselves affected.
+
+[99] [Compare "As with a thousand waves to the rocks, so Swaran's host
+came on."--_Fingal_, bk. i., Ossian's _Works_, 1807, i. 19.]
+
+[dp] {116} _That neither gives nor asks for life_.--[MS.]
+
+[100] {117} The flowered shawls generally worn by persons of rank.
+
+[101] [Compare "Catilina vero longè a suis, inter hostium cadavera
+repertus est, paululum etiam spirans ferociamque animi, quam habuerat
+vivus, in vultu retinens."--_Catilina_, cap. 61, _Opera_, 1820, i. 124.]
+
+[dq] {118}
+ _His mother looked from the lattice high_,
+ _With throbbing heart and eager eye;_
+ _The browsing camel bells are tinkling_,
+ _And the last beam of twilight twinkling:_
+ _'Tis eve; his train should now be nigh_.
+ _She could not rest in her garden bower_,
+ _And gazed through the loop of her steepest tower_.
+ _"Why comes he not? his steeds are fleet_,
+ _And well are they train'd to the summer's heat_."--[MS.]
+
+Another copy began--
+
+ _The browsing camel bells are tinkling_,
+ _And the first beam of evening twinkling;_
+ _His mother looked from her lattice high_,
+ _With throbbing breast and eager eye_--
+ "'_Tis twilight--sure his train is nigh_."--[MS. Aug. 11, 1813.]
+
+ _The browsing camel's bells are tinkling_
+ _The dews of eve the pasture sprinkling_
+ _And rising planets feebly twinkling:_
+ _His mother looked from the lattice high_
+ _With throbbing heart and eager eye_.--[Fourth Edition.]
+
+[These lines were erased, and lines 689-692 were substituted. They
+appeared first in the Fifth Edition.]
+
+[102] ["The mother of Sisera looked out at a window, and cried through
+the lattice, Why is his chariot so long in coming? why tarry the wheels
+of his chariot?"--Judges v. 28.]
+
+[dr] {119} _And now his courser's pace amends_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[ds] _I could not deem my son was slow_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[dt]
+ _The Tartar sped beneath the gate_
+ _And flung to earth his fainting weight_.--[MS.]
+
+[103] The calpac is the solid cap or centre part of the head-dress; the
+shawl is wound round it, and forms the turban.
+
+[104] The turban, pillar, and inscriptive verse, decorate the tombs of
+the Osmanlies, whether in the cemetery or the wilderness. In the
+mountains you frequently pass similar mementos; and on inquiry you are
+informed that they record some victim of rebellion, plunder, or revenge.
+
+[The following is a "Koran verse:" "Every one that is upon it (the
+earth) perisheth; but the person of thy Lord abideth, the possessor of
+glory and honour" (Sur. lv. 26, 27). (See "Kufic Tombstones in the
+British Museum," by Professor Wright, _Proceedings of the Biblical
+Archæological Society_, 1887, ix. 337, _sq_.)]
+
+[105] {120} "Alla Hu!" the concluding words of the Muezzin's call to
+prayer from the highest gallery on the exterior of the Minaret. On a
+still evening, when the Muezzin has a fine voice, which is frequently
+the case, the effect is solemn and beautiful beyond all the bells in
+Christendom. [Valid, the son of Abdalmalek, was the first who erected a
+minaret or turret; and this he placed on the grand mosque at Damascus,
+for the muezzin or crier to announce from it the hour of prayer. (See
+D'Herbelot, _Bibliothèque Orientale_, 1783, vi. 473, art. "Valid." See,
+too, _Childe Harold_, Canto II. stanza lix. line 9, _Poetical Works_,
+1899, ii. 136, note 1.)]
+
+[106] The following is part of a battle-song of the Turks:--"I see--I
+see a dark-eyed girl of Paradise, and she waves a handkerchief, a
+kerchief of green; and cries aloud, 'Come, kiss me, for I love thee,'"
+etc.
+
+[107] {121} Monkir and Nekir are the inquisitors of the dead, before
+whom the corpse undergoes a slight noviciate and preparatory training
+for damnation. If the answers are none of the clearest, he is hauled up
+with a scythe and thumped down with a red-hot mace till properly
+seasoned, with a variety of subsidiary probations. The office of these
+angels is no sinecure; there are but two, and the number of orthodox
+deceased being in a small proportion to the remainder, their hands are
+always full.--See _Relig. Ceremon_., v. 290; vii. 59,68, 118, and Sale's
+_Preliminary Discourse to the Koran_, p. 101.
+
+[Byron is again indebted to S. Henley (see _Vathek_, 1893, p. 236).
+According to Pococke (_Porta Mosis_, 1654, Notæ Miscellaneæ, p. 241),
+the angels Moncar and Nacir are black, ghastly, and of fearsome aspect.
+Their function is to hold inquisition on the corpse. If his replies are
+orthodox (_de Mohammede_), he is bidden to sleep sweetly and soundly in
+his tomb, but if his views are lax and unsound, he is cudgelled between
+the ears with iron rods. Loud are his groans, and audible to the whole
+wide world, save to those deaf animals, men and genii. Finally, the
+earth is enjoined to press him tight and keep him close till the crack
+of doom.]
+
+[108] Eblis, the Oriental Prince of Darkness.
+
+[109] The Vampire superstition is still general in the Levant. Honest
+Tournefort [_Relation d'un Voyage du Levant_, par Joseph Pitton de
+Tournefort, 1717, i. 131] tells a long story, which Mr. Southey, in the
+notes on _Thalaba_ [book viii., notes, ed. 1838, iv. 297-300], quotes
+about these "Vroucolochas" ["Vroucolocasses"], as he calls them. The
+Romaic term is "Vardoulacha." I recollect a whole family being terrified
+by the scream of a child, which they imagined must proceed from such a
+visitation. The Greeks never mention the word without horror. I find
+that "Broucolokas" is an old legitimate Hellenic appellation--at least
+is so applied to Arsenius, who, according to the Greeks, was after his
+death animated by the Devil. The moderns, however, use the word I
+mention.
+
+[[Greek: Bourko/lakas] or [Greek: Bryko/lakas] (= the Bohemian and
+Slovak _Vrholak_) is modern Greek for a ghost or vampire. George
+Bentotes, in his [Greek: Lexikon Tri/glôsson,] published in Vienna in
+1790 (see _Childe Harold_, Canto II. Notes, Papers, etc., No. III.,
+_Poetical Works_, 1899, ii. 197), renders [Greek: Brouko/lakas] "lutin,"
+and [Greek: Broukoliasme/nos,] "devenu un spectre."
+
+Arsenius, Archbishop of Monembasia (circ. 1530), was famous for his
+scholarship. He prefaced his _Scholia in Septem Euripidis Tragædias_
+(Basileæ, 1544) by a dedicatory epistle in Greek to his friend Pope Paul
+III. "He submitted to the Church of Rome, which made him so odious to
+the Greek schismatics that the Patriarch of Constantinople
+excommunicated him; and the Greeks reported that Arsenius, after his
+death, was _Broukolakas_, that is, that the Devil hovered about his
+corps and re-animated him" (Bayle, _Dictionary_, 1724, i. 508, art.
+"Arsenius"). Martinus Crusius, in his _Turco-Græcia_, lib. ii. (Basileæ,
+1584, p. 151) records the death of Arsenius while under sentence of
+excommunication, and adds that "his miserable corpse turned black, and
+swelled to the size of a drum, so that all who beheld it were
+horror-stricken, and trembled exceedingly." Hence, no doubt, the legend
+which Bayle takes _verbatim_ from Guillet, "Les Grecs disent qu'
+Arsenius, apres la mort fust _Broukolakas_," etc. (_Lacédémone, Ancienne
+et Nouvelle_, par Le Sieur de la Guilletiére, 1676, ii. 586. See, too,
+for "Arsenius," Fabricii _Script. Gr. Var._, 1808, xi. 581, and Gesneri
+_Bibliotheca Univ_., ed. 1545, fol. 96.) Byron, no doubt, got his
+information from Bayle. By "old legitimate Hellenic" he must mean
+literary as opposed to klephtic Greek.]
+
+[110] {123} The freshness of the face [? "_The paleness of the face_,"
+MS.] and the wetness of the lip with blood, are the never-failing signs
+of a Vampire. The stories told in Hungary and Greece of these foul
+feeders are singular, and some of them most _incredibly_ attested.
+
+[Vampires were the reanimated corpses of persons newly buried, which
+were supposed to suck the blood and suck out the life of their selected
+victims. The marks by which a vampire corpse was recognized were the
+apparent non-putrefaction of the body and effusion of blood from the
+lips. A suspected vampire was exhumed, and if the marks were perceived
+or imagined to be present, a stake was driven through the heart, and the
+body was burned. This, if Southey's authorities (J. B. Boyer, Marquis
+d'Argens, in _Lettres Juives_) may be believed, "laid" the vampire, and
+the community might sleep in peace. (See, too, _Dissertations sur les
+Apparitions_, par Augustine Calmet, 1746, p. 395, _sq_., and _Russian
+Folk-Tales_, by W. R. S. Ralston, 1873, pp. 318-324.)]
+
+[111] [For "Caloyer," see _Childe Harold_, Canto II. stanza xlix. line
+6, and note 21, _Poetical Works_, 1899, ii. 130, 181. It is a hard
+matter to piece together the "fragments" which make up the rest of the
+poem. Apparently the question, "How name ye?" is put by the fisherman,
+the narrator of the first part of the _Fragment_, and answered by a monk
+of the fraternity, with whom the Giaour has been pleased to "abide"
+during the past six years, under conditions and after a fashion of which
+the monk disapproves. Hereupon the fisherman disappears, and a kind of
+dialogue between the author and the protesting monk ensues. The poem
+concludes with the Giaour's confession, which is addressed to the monk,
+or perhaps to the interested and more tolerant Prior of the community.]
+
+[du] {124} _As Time were wasted on his brow_.--[MS.]
+
+[dv] {125} _Of foreign maiden lost at sea_.--[MS.]
+
+[dw] {127}
+ _Behold--as turns he from the--wall_
+ _His cowl fly back, his dark hair fall_.--[ms]
+
+[A variant of the copy sent for insertion in the Seventh Edition differs
+alike from the MS. and the text--]
+
+ _Behold as turns him from the wall_--
+ _His Cowl flies back--his tresses fall_--
+ _That pallid aspect wreathing round_.
+
+[dx] _Lo! mark him as the harmony_.--[MS.]
+
+[dy] _Thank heaven--he stands without the shrine_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[dz] {128}
+ _Must burn before it smite or shine_.--[MS.]
+ _Appears unfit to smite or shine_.--[MS. erased]
+
+[112] [In defence of lines 922-927, which had been attacked by a critic
+in the _British Review_, October, 1813, vol. v. p. 139, who compared
+them with some lines in Crabbe's _Resentment_ (lines 11--16, _Tales_,
+1812, p. 309), Byron wrote to Murray, October 12, 1813, "I have ... read
+the British Review. I really think the writer in most points very right.
+The only mortifying thing is the accusation of imitation. _Crabbe's_
+passage I never saw; and Scott I no further meant to follow than in his
+_lyric_ measure, which is Gray's, Milton's, and any one's who like it."
+The lines, which Moore quotes (_Life_, p. 191), have only a formal and
+accidental resemblance to the passage in question.]
+
+[113] {129} [Compare--
+
+ "To surfeit on the same [our pleasures]
+ And yawn our joys. Or thank a misery
+ For change, though sad?"
+
+_Night Thoughts_, iii., by Edward Young; Anderson's _British Poets_, x.
+72. Compare, too, _Childe Harold_, Canto I. stanza vi, line 8--
+
+ "With pleasure drugged, he almost longed for woe."]
+
+[114] [Byron was wont to let his imagination dwell on these details of
+the charnel-house. In a letter to Dallas, August 12, 1811, he writes, "I
+am already too familiar with the dead. It is strange that I look on the
+skulls which stand beside me (I have always had four in my study)
+without emotion, but I cannot strip the features of those I have known
+of their fleshy covering, even in idea, without a hideous sensation; but
+the worms are less ceremonious." See, too, his "Lines inscribed upon a
+Cup formed from a Skull," _Poetical Works_, 1898, i. 276.]
+
+[115] {130} The pelican is, I believe, the bird so libelled, by the
+imputation of feeding her chickens with her blood. [It has been
+suggested that the curious bloody secretion ejected from the mouth of
+the flamingo may have given rise to the belief, through that bird having
+been mistaken for the "pelican of the wilderness."--_Encycl. Brit._,
+art. "Pelican" (by Professor A. Newton), xviii. 474.]
+
+[ea] _Than feeling we must feel no more_.--[MS.]
+
+[116] {131} [Compare--
+
+ "I'd rather be a toad,
+ And live upon the vapours of a dungeon."
+
+ _Othello_, act iii. sc. 3, lines 274, 275.]
+
+[eb] _Though hope hath long withdrawn her beam_.--[MS.] [This line was
+omitted in the Third and following Editions.]
+
+[ec] {132}
+ _Through ranks of steel and tracks of fire_,
+ _And all she threatens in her ire;_
+ _And these are but the words of one_
+ _Who thus would do--who thus hath done_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[ed] {134} _My hope a tomb, our foe a grave_.--[MS.]
+
+[117] This superstition of a second-hearing (for I never met with
+downright second-sight in the East) fell once under my own observation.
+On my third journey to Cape Colonna, early in 1811, as we passed through
+the defile that leads from the hamlet between Keratia and Colonna, I
+observed Dervish Tahiri riding rather out of the path and leaning his
+head upon his hand, as if in pain. I rode up and inquired. "We are in
+peril," he answered. "What peril? We are not now in Albania, nor in the
+passes to Ephesus, Messalunghi, or Lepanto; there are plenty of us, well
+armed, and the Choriates have not courage to be thieves."--"True,
+Affendi, but nevertheless the shot is ringing in my ears."--"The shot.
+Not a tophaike has been fired this morning."--"I hear it
+notwithstanding--Bom--Bom--as plainly as I hear your
+voice."--"Psha!"--"As you please, Affendi; if it is written, so will it
+be."--I left this quick-eared predestinarian, and rode up to Basili, his
+Christian compatriot, whose ears, though not at all prophetic, by no
+means relished the intelligence. We all arrived at Colonna, remained
+some hours, and returned leisurely, saying a variety of brilliant
+things, in more languages than spoiled the building of Babel, upon the
+mistaken seer. Romaic, Arnaout, Turkish, Italian, and English were all
+exercised, in various conceits, upon the unfortunate Mussulman. While we
+were contemplating the beautiful prospect, Dervish was occupied about
+the columns. I thought he was deranged into an antiquarian, and asked
+him if he had become a "_Palaocastro_" man? "No," said he; "but these
+pillars will be useful in making a stand;" and added other remarks,
+which at least evinced his own belief in his troublesome faculty of
+_forehearing_. On our return to Athens we heard from Leoné (a prisoner
+set ashore some days after) of the intended attack of the Mainotes,
+mentioned, with the cause of its not taking place, in the notes to
+_Childe Harold_, Canto 2nd [_Poetical Works_, 1899, ii. 169]. I was at
+some pains to question the man, and he described the dresses, arms, and
+marks of the horses of our party so accurately, that, with other
+circumstances, we could not doubt of _his_ having been in "villanous
+company" [I _Henry IV_., act iii. sc. 3, line 11] and ourselves in a bad
+neighbourhood. Dervish became a soothsayer for life, and I dare say is
+now hearing more musketry than ever will be fired, to the great
+refreshment of the Arnaouts of Berat, and his native mountains.--I shall
+mention one trait more of this singular race. In March, 1811, a
+remarkably stout and active Arnaout came (I believe the fiftieth on the
+same errand) to offer himself as an attendant, which was declined.
+"Well, Affendi," quoth he, "may you live!--you would have found me
+useful. I shall leave the town for the hills to-morrow; in the winter I
+return, perhaps you will then receive me."--Dervish, who was present,
+remarked as a thing of course, and of no consequence, "in the mean time
+he will join the Klephtes" (robbers), which was true to the letter. If
+not cut off, they come down in the winter, and pass it unmolested in
+some town, where they are often as well known as their exploits.
+
+[118] {135} [_Vide ante_, p. 90, line 89, note 2, "In death from a stab
+the countenance preserves its traits of feeling or ferocity."]
+
+[ee]
+ _Her power to soothe--her skill to save--_
+ _And doubly darken o'er the grave,_--[MS.]
+
+[ef] {136}
+ _Of Ladye-love--and dart--and chain--_
+ _And fire that raged in every vein_.--[MS.]
+
+[eg]
+ _Even now alone, yet undismayed,--_
+ _I know no friend, and ask no aid_.--[MS.]
+
+[119] [Lines 1127-1130 were inserted in the Seventh Edition. They recall
+the first line of Plato's epitaph [Greek: A)stê\r prin me\n e)/lampes
+e)ni zôoi~sin e(ô~|os] which Byron prefixed to his "Epitaph on a Beloved
+Friend" (_Poetical Works_, 1898, i. 18), and which, long afterwards,
+Shelley chose as the motto to his _Adonais_.]
+
+[eh] {137}
+ _Yes_ \ / _doth spring_ \
+ } _Love indeed_ { _descend_ } _from heaven:_
+ _If_ / \ _be born_ /
+
+ / _immortal_ \
+ _A spark of that_ { _eternal_ } _fire_
+ \ _celestial_ /
+ _To human hearts in mercy given,_
+ _To lift from earth our low desire,_
+ _A feeling from the Godhead caught,_
+ / _each_ \
+ _To wean from self_ { } _sordid thought:_
+ \ _our_ /
+ _Devotion sends the soul above,_
+ _But Heaven itself descends to love,_
+ _Yet marvel not, if they who love_
+ _This present joy, this future hope_
+ _Which taught them with all ill to cope,_
+ _No more with anguish bravely cope_.--[MS.]
+
+[120] [The hundred and twenty-six lines which follow, down to "Tell me
+no more of Fancy's gleam," first appeared in the Fifth Edition. In
+returning the proof to Murray, Byron writes, August 26, 1813, "The last
+lines Hodgson likes--it is not often he does--and when he don't, he
+tells me with great energy, and I fret and alter. I have thrown them in
+to soften the ferocity of our Infidel, and, for a dying man, have given
+him a good deal to say for himself."--_Letters,_ 1898, ii. 252.]
+
+[ei] {138}
+ _That quenched, I wandered far in night,_
+ or, _'Tis quenched, and I am lost in night_.--[MS.]
+
+[ej] _Must plunge into a dark abyss_.--[MS.]
+
+[ek] {139}
+ _And let the light, inconstant fool_
+ _That sneers his coxcomb ridicule_.--[MS.]
+
+[el] _Less than the soft and shallow maid_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[em] _The joy--the madness of my heart_.--[MS.]
+
+[en]
+ _To me alike all time and place_--
+ _Scarce could I gaze on Nature's face_
+ _For every hue_----.--[MS.]
+ or, _All, all was changed on Nature's face_
+ _To me alike all time and place_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[eo] {140}
+ ----_but this grief_
+ _In truth is not for thy relief._
+ _My state thy thought can never guess_.--[MS.]
+
+[121] The monk's sermon is omitted. It seems to have had so little
+effect upon the patient, that it could have no hopes from the reader. It
+may be sufficient to say that it was of a customary length (as may be
+perceived from the interruptions and uneasiness of the patient), and was
+delivered in the usual tone of all orthodox preachers.
+
+[ep] _Where thou, it seems, canst offer grace_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[eq] _Where rise my native city's towers_.--[MS.]
+
+[er] _I had, and though but one--a friend!_--[MS.]
+
+[es] {141}
+ _I have no heart to love him now_
+ _And 'tis but to declare my end_.--[ms]
+
+[et]
+ _But now Remembrance murmurs o'er_
+ _Of all our early youth had been_--
+ _In pain, I now had turned aside_
+ _To bless his memory ere I died_,
+ _But Heaven would mark the vain essay_,
+ _If Guilt should for the guiltless fray_--
+ _I do not ask him not to blame_--
+ _Too gentle he to wound my name_--
+ _I do not ask him not to mourn_,
+ _For such request might sound like scorn_--
+ _And what like Friendship's manly tear_
+ _So well can grace a brother's bier?_
+ _But bear this ring he gave of old_,
+ _And tell him--what thou didst behold_--
+ _The withered frame--the ruined mind_,
+ _The wreck that Passion leaves behind_--
+ _The shrivelled and discoloured leaf_
+ _Seared by the Autumn blast of Grief_.--[MS., First Copy.]
+
+[eu] {142} _Nay--kneel not, father, rise--despair_.--[MS.]
+
+[122] {143} "Symar," a shroud. [Cymar, or simar, is a long loose robe
+worn by women. It is, perhaps, the same word as the Spanish _camarra_
+(Arabic _camârra_), a sheep-skin cloak. It is equivalent to "shroud"
+only in the primary sense of a "covering."]
+
+[ev] _Which now I view with trembling spark_.--[MS.]
+
+[ew] {144} _Then lay me with the nameless dead_.--[MS.]
+
+[123] The circumstance to which the above story relates was not very
+uncommon in Turkey. A few years ago the wife of Muchtar Pacha complained
+to his father of his son's supposed infidelity; he asked with whom, and
+she had the barbarity to give in a list of the twelve handsomest women
+in Yanina. They were seized, fastened up in sacks, and drowned in the
+lake the same night! One of the guards who was present informed me that
+not one of the victims uttered a cry, or showed a symptom of terror at
+so sudden a "wrench from all we know, from all we love." The fate of
+Phrosine, the fairest of this sacrifice, is the subject of many a Romaic
+and Arnaout ditty. The story in the text is one told of a young Venetian
+many years ago, and now nearly forgotten. I heard it by accident recited
+by one of the coffee-house story-tellers who abound in the Levant, and
+sing or recite their narratives. The additions and interpolations by the
+translator will be easily distinguished from the rest, by the want of
+Eastern imagery; and I regret that my memory has retained so few
+fragments of the original. For the contents of some of the notes I am
+indebted partly to D'Herbelot, and partly to that most Eastern, and, as
+Mr. Weber justly entitles it, "sublime tale," the "Caliph Vathek." I do
+not know from what source the author of that singular volume may have
+drawn his materials; some of his incidents are to be found in the
+_Bibliothèque Orientale_; but for correctness of costume, beauty of
+description, and power of imagination, it far surpasses all European
+imitations, and bears such marks of originality that those who have
+visited the East will find some difficulty in believing it to be more
+than a translation. As an Eastern tale, even Rasselas must bow before
+it; his "Happy Valley" will not bear a comparison with the "Hall of
+Eblis." [See _Childe Harold_, Canto II. stanza xxii. line 6, _Poetical
+Works_, 1899, ii. 37, note 1.
+
+"Mansour Effendi tells the story (_vide supra_, line 6) thus: Frosini
+was niece of the Archbishop of Joannina. Mouctar Pasha ordered her to
+come to his harem, and her father advised her to go; she did so.
+Mouctar, among other presents, gave her a ring of great value, which she
+wished to sell, and gave it for that purpose to a merchant, who offered
+it to the wife of Mouctar. That lady recognized the jewel as her own,
+and, discovering the intrigue, complained to Ali Pasha, who, the next
+night, seized her himself in his own house, and ordered her to be
+drowned. Mansour Effendi says he had the story from the brother and son
+of Frosini. This son was a child of six years old, and was in bed in his
+mother's chamber when Ali came to carry away his mother to death. He had
+a confused recollection of the horrid scene."--_Travels in Albania,_
+1858, i. Ill, note 6.
+
+The concluding note, like the poem, was built up sentence by sentence.
+Lines 1-12, "forgotten," are in the MS. Line 12, "I heard," to line 17,
+"original," were added in the Second Edition. The next sentence, "For
+the contents" to "Vathek," was inserted in the Third; and the concluding
+paragraph, "I do not know" to the end, in the Fourth Editions.]
+
+[ex] {146}
+ _Nor whether most he mourned none knew_.
+ _For her he loved--or him he slew_.--[MS.]
+
+
+
+
+ THE BRIDE OF ABYDOS.
+
+ A TURKISH TALE.
+
+
+ "Had we never loved sae kindly,
+ Had we never loved sae blindly,
+ Never met--or never parted,
+ We had ne'er been broken-hearted."--
+
+
+ Burns [_Farewell to Nancy_].
+
+
+
+
+ INTRODUCTION TO THE _THE BRIDE OF ABYDOS_.
+
+
+Many poets--Wordsworth, for instance--have been conscious in their old
+age that an interest attaches to the circumstances of the composition of
+their poems, and have furnished their friends and admirers with
+explanatory notes. Byron recorded the _motif_ and occasion of the _Bride
+of Abydos_ while the poem was still in the press. It was written, he
+says, to divert his mind, "to wring his thoughts from reality to
+imagination--from selfish regrets to vivid recollections" (_Diary_,
+December 5, 1813, _Letters_, ii. 361), "to distract his dreams from ..."
+(_Diary_, November 16) "for the sake of _employment_" (Letter to Moore,
+November 30, 1813). He had been staying during part of October and
+November at Aston Hall, Rotherham, with his friend James Wedderburn
+Webster, and had fallen in love with his friend's wife, Lady Frances.
+From a brief note to his sister, dated November 5, we learn that he was
+in a scrape, but in "no immediate peril," and from the lines, "Remember
+him, whom Passion's power" (_vide ante_, p. 67), we may infer that he
+had sought safety in flight. The _Bride of Abydos_, or _Zuleika_, as it
+was first entitled, was written early in November, "in four nights"
+(_Diary_, November 16), or in a week (Letter to Gifford, November
+12)--the reckoning goes for little--as a counter-irritant to the pain
+and distress of _amour interrompu_.
+
+The confession or apology is eminently characteristic. Whilst the
+_Giaour_ was still in process of evolution, still "lengthening its
+rattles," another Turkish poem is offered to the public, and the natural
+explanation, that the author is in vein, and can score another trick, is
+felt to be inadequate and dishonouring--"To withdraw _myself_ from
+_myself_," he confides to his _Diary_(November 27), "has ever been my
+sole, my entire, my sincere motive for scribbling at all."
+
+It is more than probable that in his twenty-sixth year Byron had not
+attained to perfect self-knowledge, but there is no reason to question
+his sincerity. That Byron loved to surround himself with mystery, and to
+dissociate himself from "the general," is true enough; but it does not
+follow that at all times and under all circumstances he was insincere.
+"Once a _poseur_ always a _poseur_" is a rough-and-ready formula not
+invariably applicable even to a poet.
+
+But the _Bride of Abydos_ was a tonic as well as a styptic. Like the
+_Giaour_, it embodied a personal experience, and recalled "a country
+replete with the _darkest_ and _brightest_, but always the most _lively_
+colours of my memory" (_Diary_, December 5, 1813).
+
+In a letter to Galt (December 11, 1813, Letters, 1898, ii. 304,
+reprinted from _Life of Byron_, pp. 181, 182) Byron maintains that the
+first part of the _Bride_ was drawn from "observations" of his own,
+"from existence." He had, it would appear, intended to make the story
+turn on the guilty love of a brother for a sister, a tragic incident of
+life in a Harem, which had come under his notice during his travels in
+the East, but "on second thoughts" had reflected that he lived "two
+centuries at least too late for the subject," and that not even the
+authority of the "finest works of the Greeks," or of Schiller (in the
+_Bride of Messina_), or of Alfieri (in _Mirra_), "in modern times,"
+would sanction the intrusion of the [Greek: misêto\n] into English
+literature. The early drafts and variants of the MS. do not afford any
+evidence of this alteration of the plot which, as Byron thought, was
+detrimental to the poem as a work of art, but the undoubted fact that
+the _Bride of Abydos_, as well as the _Giaour_, embody recollections of
+actual scenes and incidents which had burnt themselves into the memory
+of an eye-witness, accounts not only for the fervent heat at which these
+Turkish tales were written, but for the extraordinary glamour which they
+threw over contemporary readers, to whom the local colouring was new and
+attractive, and who were not out of conceit with "good Monsieur
+Melancholy."
+
+Byron was less dissatisfied with his second Turkish tale than he had
+been with the _Giaour_. He apologizes for the rapidity with which it had
+been composed--_stans pede in uno_--but he announced to Murray (November
+20) that "he was doing his best to beat the _Giaour_," and (November 29)
+he appraises the _Bride_ as "my first entire composition of any length."
+
+Moreover, he records (November 15), with evident gratification, the
+approval of his friend Hodgson, "a very sincere and by no means (at
+times) a flattering critic of mine," and modestly accepts the praise of
+such masters of letters as "Mr. Canning," Hookham Frere, Heber, Lord
+Holland, and of the traveller Edward Daniel Clarke.
+
+The _Bride of Abydos_ was advertised in the _Morning Chronicle,_ among
+"Books published this day," on November 29, 1813. It was reviewed by
+George Agar Ellis in the _Quarterly Review_ of January, 1814 (vol. x. p.
+331), and, together with the _Corsair_, by Jeffrey in the _Edinburgh
+Review_ of April, 1814 (vol. xxiii. p. 198).
+
+ * * * * *
+
+NOTE TO THE MSS. OF _THE BRIDE OF ABYDOS_.
+
+The MSS. of the _Bride of Abydos_ are contained in a bound volume, and
+in two packets of loose sheets, numbering thirty-two in all, of which
+eighteen represent additions, etc., to the First Canto; and fourteen
+additions, etc., to the Second Canto.
+
+The bound volume consists of a rough copy and a fair copy of the first
+draft of the _Bride_; the fair copy beginning with the sixth stanza of
+Canto I.
+
+The "additions" in the bound volume consist of--
+
+1. Stanza xxviii. of Canto II.--here called "Conclusion" (fifty-eight
+lines). And note on "Sir Orford's Letters."
+
+2. Eight lines beginning, "Eve saw it placed," at the end of stanza
+xxviii.
+
+3. An emendation of six lines to stanza v. of Canto II., with reference
+to the comboloio, the Turkish rosary.
+
+4. Forty additional lines to stanza xx. of Canto II., beginning, "For
+thee in those bright isles," and being the first draft of the addition
+as printed in the Revises of November 13, etc.
+
+5. Stanza xxvii. of Canto II., twenty-eight lines.
+
+6. Ten additional lines to stanza xxvii., "Ah! happy!"--"depart."
+
+7. Affixed to the rough Copy in stanza xxviii., fifty-eight lines, here
+called "Continuation." This is the rough Copy of No. 1.
+
+The eighteen loose sheets of additions to Canto I. consist of--
+
+1. The Dedication.
+
+2. Two revisions of "Know ye the land."
+
+3. Seven sheets, Canto I. stanzas i.-v., being the commencement of the
+Fair Copy in the bound volume.
+
+4. Two sheets of the additional twelve lines to Canto I. stanza vi.,
+"Who hath not proved,"--"Soul."
+
+5. Four sheets of notes to Canto I. stanza vi., dated November 20,
+November 22, 1813.
+
+6. Two sheets of notes to stanza xvi.
+
+7. Sixteen additional lines to stanza xiii.
+
+The fourteen additional sheets to Canto II. consist of--
+
+1. Ten lines of stanza iv., and four lines of stanza xvii.
+
+2. Two lines and note of stanza v.
+
+3. Sheets of additions, etc., to stanza xx. (eight sheets).
+
+(a) Eight lines, "Or, since that hope,"--"thy command."
+
+(b) "For thee in those bright isles" (twenty-four lines).
+
+(c) "For thee," etc. (thirty-six lines).
+
+(d) "Blest as the call" (three variants).
+
+(e) "For thee in those bright isles" (seven lines).
+
+(f) Fourteen lines, "There ev'n thy soul,"--"Zuleika's name," "Aye--let
+the loud winds,"--"bars escape," additional to stanza xx.
+
+4. Two sheets of five variants of "Ah! wherefore did he turn to look?"
+being six additional lines to stanza xxv.
+
+5. Thirty-five lines of stanza xxvi.
+
+6. Ten lines, "Ah! happy! but,"--"depart." And eleven lines, "Woe to
+thee, rash,"--"hast shed," being a continuous addition to stanza xxvii.
+
+
+
+ REVISES.
+
+ Endorsed--
+ i. November 13, 1813.
+ ii. November 15, 1813.
+ iii. November 16, 1813.
+ iv. November 18, 1813.
+ v. November 19, 1813.
+ vi. November 21, 1813.
+ vii. November 23, 1813.
+ viii. November 24, 1813. A wrong date,
+ ix. November 25, 1813.
+ x. An imperfect revise = Nos. i.-v.
+
+
+
+ to
+
+ the right honourable
+
+ LORD HOLLAND,
+
+ this tale
+
+ is inscribed, with
+
+ every sentiment of regard
+
+ and respect,
+
+ by his gratefully obliged
+
+ and sincere friend,
+
+ BYRON.[ey]
+
+
+
+
+ THE BRIDE OF ABYDOS.[124]
+
+
+
+ CANTO THE FIRST.
+
+ I.
+
+ Know ye the land where the cypress and myrtle[125]
+ Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime?
+ Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle,
+ Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime?
+ Know ye the land of the cedar and vine,
+ Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever shine;
+ Where the light wings of Zephyr, oppressed with perfume,
+ Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gúl[126] in her bloom;
+ Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit,
+ And the voice of the nightingale never is mute;[127] 10
+ Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky,
+ In colour though varied, in beauty may vie,
+ And the purple of Ocean is deepest in dye;
+ Where the virgins are soft as the roses they twine,
+ And all, save the spirit of man, is divine--
+ Tis the clime of the East--'tis the land of the Sun--
+ Can he smile on such deeds as his children have done?[128]
+ Oh! wild as the accents of lovers' farewell[ez]
+ Are the hearts which they bear, and the tales which they tell.
+
+ II.[fa]
+
+ Begirt with many a gallant slave, 20
+ Apparelled as becomes the brave,
+ Awaiting each his Lord's behest
+ To guide his steps, or guard his rest,
+ Old Giaffir sate in his Divan:
+ Deep thought was in his agéd eye;
+ And though the face of Mussulman
+ Not oft betrays to standers by
+ The mind within, well skilled to hide
+ All but unconquerable pride,
+ His pensive cheek and pondering brow[fb] 30
+ Did more than he was wont avow.
+
+ III.
+
+ "Let the chamber be cleared."--The train disappeared--
+ "Now call me the chief of the Haram guard"--
+ With Giaffir is none but his only son,
+ And the Nubian awaiting the sire's award.
+ "Haroun--when all the crowd that wait
+ Are passed beyond the outer gate,
+ (Woe to the head whose eye beheld
+ My child Zuleika's face unveiled!)
+ Hence, lead my daughter from her tower--[fc] 40
+ Her fate is fixed this very hour;
+ Yet not to her repeat my thought--
+ By me alone be duty taught!"
+
+ "Pacha! to hear is to obey."--
+ No more must slave to despot say--
+ Then to the tower had ta'en his way:
+ But here young Selim silence brake,
+ First lowly rendering reverence meet;
+ And downcast looked, and gently spake,
+ Still standing at the Pacha's feet: 50
+ For son of Moslem must expire,
+ Ere dare to sit before his sire!
+ "Father! for fear that thou shouldst chide
+ My sister, or her sable guide--
+ Know--for the fault, if fault there be,
+ Was mine--then fall thy frowns on me!
+ So lovelily the morning shone,
+ That--let the old and weary sleep--
+ I could not; and to view alone
+ The fairest scenes of land and deep, 60
+ With none to listen and reply
+ To thoughts with which my heart beat high
+ Were irksome--for whate'er my mood,
+ In sooth I love not solitude;
+ I on Zuleika's slumber broke,
+ And, as thou knowest that for me
+ Soon turns the Haram's grating key,
+ Before the guardian slaves awoke
+ We to the cypress groves had flown,
+ And made earth, main, and heaven our own! 70
+ There lingered we, beguiled too long
+ With Mejnoun's tale, or Sadi's song;[fd][129]
+ Till I, who heard the deep tambour[130]
+ Beat thy Divan's approaching hour,
+ To thee, and to my duty true,
+ Warned by the sound, to greet thee flew:
+ But there Zuleika wanders yet--
+ Nay, Father, rage not--nor forget
+ That none can pierce that secret bower
+ But those who watch the women's tower." 80
+
+ IV.
+
+ "Son of a slave"--the Pacha said--
+ "From unbelieving mother bred,
+ Vain were a father's hope to see
+ Aught that beseems a man in thee.
+ Thou, when thine arm should bend the bow,
+ And hurl the dart, and curb the steed,
+ Thou, Greek in soul if not in creed,
+ Must pore where babbling waters flow,[fe]
+ And watch unfolding roses blow.
+ Would that yon Orb, whose matin glow 90
+ Thy listless eyes so much admire,
+ Would lend thee something of his fire!
+ Thou, who woulds't see this battlement
+ By Christian cannon piecemeal rent;
+ Nay, tamely view old Stambol's wall
+ Before the dogs of Moscow fall,
+ Nor strike one stroke for life and death
+ Against the curs of Nazareth!
+ Go--let thy less than woman's hand
+ Assume the distaff--not the brand. 100
+ But, Haroun!--to my daughter speed:
+ And hark--of thine own head take heed--
+ If thus Zuleika oft takes wing--
+ Thou see'st yon bow--it hath a string!"
+
+ V.
+
+ No sound from Selim's lip was heard,
+ At least that met old Giaffir's ear,
+ But every frown and every word
+ Pierced keener than a Christian's sword.
+ "Son of a slave!--reproached with fear!
+ Those gibes had cost another dear. 110
+ Son of a slave!--and _who_ my Sire?"
+ Thus held his thoughts their dark career;
+ And glances ev'n of more than ire[ff]
+ Flash forth, then faintly disappear.
+ Old Giaffir gazed upon his son
+ And started; for within his eye
+ He read how much his wrath had done;
+ He saw rebellion there begun:
+ "Come hither, boy--what, no reply?
+ I mark thee--and I know thee too; 120
+ But there be deeds thou dar'st not do:
+ But if thy beard had manlier length,
+ And if thy hand had skill and strength,
+ I'd joy to see thee break a lance,
+ Albeit against my own perchance."
+ As sneeringly these accents fell,
+ On Selim's eye he fiercely gazed:
+ That eye returned him glance for glance,
+ And proudly to his Sire's was raised[fg],
+ Till Giaffir's quailed and shrunk askance-- 130
+ And why--he felt, but durst not tell.
+ "Much I misdoubt this wayward boy
+ Will one day work me more annoy:
+ I never loved him from his birth,
+ And--but his arm is little worth,
+ And scarcely in the chase could cope
+ With timid fawn or antelope,
+ Far less would venture into strife
+ Where man contends for fame and life--
+ I would not trust that look or tone: 140
+ No--nor the blood so near my own.[fh]
+ That blood--he hath not heard--no more--
+ I'll watch him closer than before.
+ He is an Arab[131] to my sight,
+ Or Christian crouching in the fight--[fi]
+ But hark!--I hear Zuleika's voice;
+ Like Houris' hymn it meets mine ear:
+ She is the offspring of my choice;
+ Oh! more than ev'n her mother dear,
+ With all to hope, and nought to fear-- 150
+ My Peri! ever welcome here![fj]
+ Sweet, as the desert fountain's wave
+ To lips just cooled in time to save--
+ Such to my longing sight art thou;
+ Nor can they waft to Mecca's shrine
+ More thanks for life, than I for thine,
+ Who blest thy birth and bless thee now."[fk]
+
+ VI.
+
+ Fair, as the first that fell of womankind,
+ When on that dread yet lovely serpent smiling,
+ Whose Image then was stamped upon her mind-- 160
+ But once beguiled--and ever more beguiling;
+ Dazzling, as that, oh! too transcendent vision
+ To Sorrow's phantom-peopled slumber given,
+ When heart meets heart again in dreams Elysian,
+ And paints the lost on Earth revived in Heaven;
+ Soft, as the memory of buried love;
+ Pure, as the prayer which Childhood wafts above;
+ Was she--the daughter of that rude old Chief,
+ Who met the maid with tears--but not of grief.
+
+ Who hath not proved how feebly words essay[132] 170
+ To fix one spark of Beauty's heavenly ray?
+ Who doth not feel, until his failing sight[fl]
+ Faints into dimness with its own delight,
+ His changing cheek, his sinking heart confess
+ The might--the majesty of Loveliness?
+ Such was Zuleika--such around her shone
+ The nameless charms unmarked by her alone--
+ The light of Love, the purity of Grace,[fm]
+ The mind, the Music[133] breathing from her face,
+ The heart whose softness harmonized the whole, 180
+ And oh! that eye was in itself a Soul!
+
+ Her graceful arms in meekness bending
+ Across her gently-budding breast;
+ At one kind word those arms extending
+ To clasp the neck of him who blest
+ His child caressing and carest,
+ Zuleika came--and Giaffir felt
+ His purpose half within him melt:
+ Not that against her fancied weal
+ His heart though stern could ever feel; 190
+ Affection chained her to that heart;
+ Ambition tore the links apart.
+
+ VII.
+
+ "Zuleika! child of Gentleness!
+ How dear this very day must tell,
+ When I forget my own distress,
+ In losing what I love so well,
+ To bid thee with another dwell:
+ Another! and a braver man
+ Was never seen in battle's van.
+ We Moslem reck not much of blood: 200
+ But yet the line of Carasman[134]
+ Unchanged, unchangeable hath stood
+ First of the bold Timariot bands
+ That won and well can keep their lands.[fn]
+ Enough that he who comes to woo[fo]
+ Is kinsman of the Bey Oglou:[135]
+ His years need scarce a thought employ;
+ I would not have thee wed a boy.
+ And thou shalt have a noble dower:
+ And his and my united power 210
+ Will laugh to scorn the death-firman,
+ Which others tremble but to scan,
+ And teach the messenger[136] what fate
+ The bearer of such boon may wait.
+ And now thou know'st thy father's will;
+ All that thy sex hath need to know:
+ 'Twas mine to teach obedience still--
+ The way to love, thy Lord may show."
+
+ VIII.
+
+ In silence bowed the virgin's head;
+ And if her eye was filled with tears 220
+ That stifled feeling dare not shed,
+ And changed her cheek from pale to red,
+ And red to pale, as through her ears
+ Those wingéd words like arrows sped,
+ What could such be but maiden fears?
+ So bright the tear in Beauty's eye,
+ Love half regrets to kiss it dry;
+ So sweet the blush of Bashfulness,
+ Even Pity scarce can wish it less!
+
+ Whate'er it was the sire forgot: 230
+ Or if remembered, marked it not;
+ Thrice clapped his hands, and called his steed,[137]
+ Resigned his gem-adorned chibouque,[138]
+ And mounting featly for the mead,
+ With Maugrabeel[139] and Mamaluke,
+ His way amid his Delis took,[140]
+ To witness many an active deed
+ With sabre keen, or blunt jerreed.
+ The Kislar only and his Moors[141]
+ Watch well the Haram's massy doors. 240
+
+ IX.
+
+ His head was leant upon his hand,
+ His eye looked o'er the dark blue water
+ That swiftly glides and gently swells
+ Between the winding Dardanelles;
+ But yet he saw nor sea nor strand,
+ Nor even his Pacha's turbaned band
+ Mix in the game of mimic slaughter,
+ Careering cleave the folded felt[142]
+ With sabre stroke right sharply dealt;
+ Nor marked the javelin-darting crowd, 250
+ Nor heard their Ollahs[143] wild and loud--
+ He thought but of old Giaffir's daughter!
+
+ X.
+
+ No word from Selim's bosom broke;
+ One sigh Zuleika's thought bespoke:
+ Still gazed he through the lattice grate,
+ Pale, mute, and mournfully sedate.
+ To him Zuleika's eye was turned,
+ But little from his aspect learned:
+ Equal her grief, yet not the same;
+ Her heart confessed a gentler flame:[fp] 260
+ But yet that heart, alarmed or weak,
+ She knew not why, forbade to speak.
+ Yet speak she must--but when essay?
+ "How strange he thus should turn away!
+ Not thus we e'er before have met;
+ Not thus shall be our parting yet."
+ Thrice paced she slowly through the room,
+ And watched his eye--it still was fixed:
+ She snatched the urn wherein was mixed
+ The Persian Atar-gul's perfume,[144] 270
+ And sprinkled all its odours o'er
+ The pictured roof[145] and marble floor:
+ The drops, that through his glittering vest[fq]
+ The playful girl's appeal addressed,
+ Unheeded o'er his bosom flew,
+ As if that breast were marble too.
+ "What, sullen yet? it must not be--
+ Oh! gentle Selim, this from thee!"
+ She saw in curious order set
+ The fairest flowers of Eastern land-- 280
+ "He loved them once; may touch them yet,
+ If offered by Zuleika's hand."
+ The childish thought was hardly breathed
+ Before the rose was plucked and wreathed;
+ The next fond moment saw her seat
+ Her fairy form at Selim's feet:
+ "This rose to calm my brother's cares
+ A message from the Bulbul[146] bears;
+ It says to-night he will prolong
+ For Selim's ear his sweetest song; 290
+ And though his note is somewhat sad,
+ He'll try for once a strain more glad,
+ With some faint hope his altered lay
+ May sing these gloomy thoughts away.
+
+ XI.
+
+ "What! not receive my foolish flower?
+ Nay then I am indeed unblest:
+ On me can thus thy forehead lower?
+ And know'st thou not who loves thee best?[fr]
+ Oh, Selim dear! oh, more than dearest!
+ Say, is it me thou hat'st or fearest? 300
+ Come, lay thy head upon my breast,
+ And I will kiss thee into rest,
+ Since words of mine, and songs must fail,
+ Ev'n from my fabled nightingale.
+ I knew our sire at times was stern,
+ But this from thee had yet to learn:
+ Too well I know he loves thee not;
+ But is Zuleika's love forgot?
+ Ah! deem I right? the Pacha's plan--
+ This kinsman Bey of Carasman 310
+ Perhaps may prove some foe of thine.
+ If so, I swear by Mecca's shrine,--[fs]
+ If shrines that ne'er approach allow
+ To woman's step admit her vow,--
+ Without thy free consent--command--
+ The Sultan should not have my hand!
+ Think'st thou that I could bear to part
+ With thee, and learn to halve my heart?
+ Ah! were I severed from thy side,
+ Where were thy friend--and who my guide? 320
+ Years have not seen, Time shall not see,
+ The hour that tears my soul from thee:[ft]
+ Ev'n Azrael,[147] from his deadly quiver
+ When flies that shaft, and fly it must,[fu]
+ That parts all else, shall doom for ever
+ Our hearts to undivided dust!"
+
+ XII.
+
+ He lived--he breathed--he moved--he felt;
+ He raised the maid from where she knelt;
+ His trance was gone, his keen eye shone
+ With thoughts that long in darkness dwelt; 330
+ With thoughts that burn--in rays that melt.
+ As the stream late concealed
+ By the fringe of its willows,
+ When it rushes reveal'd
+ In the light of its billows;
+ As the bolt bursts on high
+ From the black cloud that bound it,
+ Flashed the soul of that eye
+ Through the long lashes round it.
+ A war-horse at the trumpet's sound, 340
+ A lion roused by heedless hound,
+ A tyrant waked to sudden strife
+ By graze of ill-directed knife,[fv]
+ Starts not to more convulsive life
+ Than he, who heard that vow, displayed,
+ And all, before repressed, betrayed:
+ "Now thou art mine, for ever mine,
+ With life to keep, and scarce with life resign;[fw]
+ Now thou art mine, that sacred oath,
+ Though sworn by one, hath bound us both. 350
+ Yes, fondly, wisely hast thou done;
+ That vow hath saved more heads than one:
+ But blench not thou--thy simplest tress
+ Claims more from me than tenderness;
+ I would not wrong the slenderest hair
+ That clusters round thy forehead fair,[fx]
+ For all the treasures buried far
+ Within the caves of Istakar.[148]
+ This morning clouds upon me lowered,
+ Reproaches on my head were showered, 360
+ And Giaffir almost called me coward!
+ Now I have motive to be brave;
+ The son of his neglected slave,
+ Nay, start not,'twas the term he gave,
+ May show, though little apt to vaunt,
+ A heart his words nor deeds can daunt.
+ _His_ son, indeed!--yet, thanks to thee,
+ Perchance I am, at least shall be;
+ But let our plighted secret vow
+ Be only known to us as now. 370
+ I know the wretch who dares demand
+ From Giaffir thy reluctant hand;
+ More ill-got wealth, a meaner soul
+ Holds not a Musselim's[149] control;
+ Was he not bred in Egripo?[150]
+ A viler race let Israel show!
+ But let that pass--to none be told
+ Our oath; the rest shall time unfold.
+ To me and mine leave Osman Bey!
+ I've partisans for Peril's day: 380
+ Think not I am what I appear;
+ I've arms--and friends--and vengeance near."
+
+ XIII.
+
+ "Think not thou art what thou appearest!
+ My Selim, thou art sadly changed:
+ This morn I saw thee gentlest--dearest--
+ But now thou'rt from thyself estranged.
+ My love thou surely knew'st before,
+ It ne'er was less--nor can be more.
+ To see thee--hear thee--near thee stay--
+ And hate the night--I know not why, 390
+ Save that we meet not but by day;
+ With thee to live, with thee to die,
+ I dare not to my hope deny:
+ Thy cheek--thine eyes--thy lips to kiss--
+ Like this--and this--no more than this;[fy]
+ For, Allah! sure thy lips are flame:
+ What fever in thy veins is flushing?
+ My own have nearly caught the same,
+ At least I feel my cheek, too, blushing.
+ To soothe thy sickness, watch thy health, 400
+ Partake, but never waste thy wealth,
+ Or stand with smiles unmurmuring by,
+ And lighten half thy poverty;
+ Do all but close thy dying eye,
+ For that I could not live to try;
+ To these alone my thoughts aspire:
+ More can I do? or thou require?
+ But, Selim, thou must answer why[fz]
+ We need so much of mystery?
+ The cause I cannot dream nor tell, 410
+ But be it, since thou say'st 'tis well;
+ Yet what thou mean'st by 'arms' and 'friends,'
+ Beyond my weaker sense extends.
+ I meant that Giaffir should have heard
+ The very vow I plighted thee;
+ His wrath would not revoke my word:
+ But surely he would leave me free.
+ Can this fond wish seem strange in me,
+ To be what I have ever been?
+ What other hath Zuleika seen 420
+ From simple childhood's earliest hour?
+ What other can she seek to see
+ Than thee, companion of her bower,
+ The partner of her infancy?
+ These cherished thoughts with life begun,
+ Say, why must I no more avow?
+ What change is wrought to make me shun
+ The truth--my pride, and thine till now?
+ To meet the gaze of stranger's eyes
+ Our law--our creed--our God denies; 430
+ Nor shall one wandering thought of mine
+ At such, our Prophet's will, repine:
+ No! happier made by that decree,
+ He left me all in leaving thee.
+ Deep were my anguish, thus compelled[ga]
+ To wed with one I ne'er beheld:
+ This wherefore should I not reveal?
+ Why wilt thou urge me to conceal?[gb]
+ I know the Pacha's haughty mood
+ To thee hath never boded good; 440
+ And he so often storms at nought,
+ Allah! forbid that e'er he ought!
+ And why I know not, but within
+ My heart concealment weighs like sin.[gc]
+ If then such secrecy be crime,
+ And such it feels while lurking here;
+ Oh, Selim! tell me yet in time,
+ Nor leave me thus to thoughts of fear.
+ Ah! yonder see the Tchocadar,[151]
+ My father leaves the mimic war; 450
+ I tremble now to meet his eye--
+ Say, Selim, canst thou tell me why?"
+
+ XIV.
+
+ "Zuleika--to thy tower's retreat
+ Betake thee--Giaffir I can greet:
+ And now with him I fain must prate
+ Of firmans, imposts, levies, state.
+ There's fearful news from Danube's banks,
+ Our Vizier nobly thins his ranks
+ For which the Giaour may give him thanks!
+ Our Sultan hath a shorter way 460
+ Such costly triumph to repay.
+ But, mark me, when the twilight drum
+ Hath warned the troops to food and sleep,
+ Unto thy cell with Selim come;
+ Then softly from the Haram creep
+ Where we may wander by the deep:
+ Our garden battlements are steep;
+ Nor these will rash intruder climb
+ To list our words, or stint our time;
+ And if he doth, I want not steel 470
+ Which some have felt, and more may feel.
+ Then shalt thou learn of Selim more
+ Than thou hast heard or thought before:
+ Trust me, Zuleika--fear not me!
+ Thou know'st I hold a Haram key."
+
+ "Fear thee, my Selim! ne'er till now
+ Did words like this----"
+
+ "Delay not thou;[gd]
+ I keep the key--and Haroun's guard
+ Have _some_, and hope of _more_ reward.
+ To-night, Zuleika, thou shalt hear 480
+ My tale, my purpose, and my fear:
+ I am not, love! what I appear."
+
+
+
+ CANTO THE SECOND.[ge]
+
+ I.
+
+ The winds are high on Helle's wave,
+ As on that night of stormy water
+ When Love, who sent, forgot to save
+ The young--the beautiful--the brave--
+ The lonely hope of Sestos' daughter.
+ Oh! when alone along the sky
+ Her turret-torch was blazing high,
+ Though rising gale, and breaking foam, 490
+ And shrieking sea-birds warned him home;
+ And clouds aloft and tides below,
+ With signs and sounds, forbade to go,
+ He could not see, he would not hear,
+ Or sound or sign foreboding fear;
+ His eye but saw that light of Love,
+ The only star it hailed above;
+ His ear but rang with Hero's song,
+ "Ye waves, divide not lovers long!"--
+ That tale is old, but Love anew[152] 500
+ May nerve young hearts to prove as true.
+
+ II.
+
+ The winds are high and Helle's tide
+ Rolls darkly heaving to the main;
+ And Night's descending shadows hide
+ That field with blood bedewed in vain,
+ The desert of old Priam's pride;
+ The tombs, sole relics of his reign,
+ All--save immortal dreams that could beguile
+ The blind old man of Scio's rocky isle!
+
+ III.
+
+ Oh! yet--for there my steps have been; 510
+ These feet have pressed the sacred shore,
+ These limbs that buoyant wave hath borne--
+ Minstrel! with thee to muse, to mourn,
+ To trace again those fields of yore,
+ Believing every hillock green
+ Contains no fabled hero's ashes,
+ And that around the undoubted scene
+ Thine own "broad Hellespont"[153] still dashes,
+ Be long my lot! and cold were he
+ Who there could gaze denying thee! 520
+
+ IV.
+
+ The Night hath closed on Helle's stream,
+ Nor yet hath risen on Ida's hill
+ That Moon, which shone on his high theme:
+ No warrior chides her peaceful beam,
+ But conscious shepherds bless it still.
+ Their flocks are grazing on the Mound
+ Of him who felt the Dardan's arrow:
+ That mighty heap of gathered ground
+ Which Ammon's son ran proudly round,[154]
+ By nations raised, by monarchs crowned, 530
+ Is now a lone and nameless barrow!
+ Within--thy dwelling-place how narrow![155]
+ Without--can only strangers breathe
+ The name of him that _was_ beneath:
+ Dust long outlasts the storied stone;
+ But Thou--thy very dust is gone!
+
+ V.
+
+ Late, late to-night will Dian cheer
+ The swain, and chase the boatman's fear;
+ Till then--no beacon on the cliff
+ May shape the course of struggling skiff; 540
+ The scattered lights that skirt the bay,
+ All, one by one, have died away;
+ The only lamp of this lone hour
+ Is glimmering in Zuleika's tower.
+ Yes! there is light in that lone chamber,
+ And o'er her silken ottoman
+ Are thrown the fragrant beads of amber,
+ O'er which her fairy fingers ran;[156]
+ Near these, with emerald rays beset,[157]
+ (How could she thus that gem forget?) 550
+ Her mother's sainted amulet,[158]
+ Whereon engraved the Koorsee text,
+ Could smooth this life, and win the next;
+ And by her Comboloio[159] lies
+ A Koran of illumined dyes;
+ And many a bright emblazoned rhyme
+ By Persian scribes redeemed from Time;
+ And o'er those scrolls, not oft so mute,
+ Reclines her now neglected lute;
+ And round her lamp of fretted gold 560
+ Bloom flowers in urns of China's mould;
+ The richest work of Iran's loom,
+ And Sheeraz[160] tribute of perfume;
+
+ All that can eye or sense delight
+ Are gathered in that gorgeous room:
+ But yet it hath an air of gloom.
+ She, of this Peri cell the sprite,
+ What doth she hence, and on so rude a night?
+
+ VI.
+
+ Wrapt in the darkest sable vest,
+ Which none save noblest Moslem wear, 570
+ To guard from winds of Heaven the breast
+ As Heaven itself to Selim dear,
+ With cautious steps the thicket threading,
+ And starting oft, as through the glade
+ The gust its hollow moanings made,
+ Till on the smoother pathway treading,
+ More free her timid bosom beat,
+ The maid pursued her silent guide;
+ And though her terror urged retreat,
+ How could she quit her Selim's side? 580
+ How teach her tender lips to chide?
+
+ VII.
+
+ They reached at length a grotto, hewn
+ By nature, but enlarged by art,
+ Where oft her lute she wont to tune,
+ And oft her Koran conned apart;
+ And oft in youthful reverie
+ She dreamed what Paradise might be:
+ Where Woman's parted soul shall go
+ Her Prophet had disdained to show;[gf][161]
+ But Selim's mansion was secure, 590
+ Nor deemed she, could he long endure
+ His bower in other worlds of bliss
+ Without _her_, most beloved in this!
+ Oh! who so dear with him could dwell?
+ What Houri soothe him half so well?
+
+ VIII.
+
+ Since last she visited the spot
+ Some change seemed wrought within the grot:
+ It might be only that the night
+ Disguised things seen by better light:
+ That brazen lamp but dimly threw 600
+ A ray of no celestial hue;
+ But in a nook within the cell
+ Her eye on stranger objects fell.
+ There arms were piled, not such as wield
+ The turbaned Delis in the field;
+ But brands of foreign blade and hilt,
+ And one was red--perchance with guilt![gg]
+ Ah! how without can blood be spilt?
+ A cup too on the board was set
+ That did not seem to hold sherbet. 610
+ What may this mean? she turned to see
+ Her Selim--"Oh! can this be he?"[gh]
+
+ IX.
+
+ His robe of pride was thrown aside,
+ His brow no high-crowned turban bore,
+ But in its stead a shawl of red,
+ Wreathed lightly round, his temples wore:
+ That dagger, on whose hilt the gem
+ Were worthy of a diadem,
+ No longer glittered at his waist,
+ Where pistols unadorned were braced; 620
+ And from his belt a sabre swung,
+ And from his shoulder loosely hung
+ The cloak of white, the thin capote
+ That decks the wandering Candiote;
+ Beneath--his golden plated vest
+ Clung like a cuirass to his breast;
+ The greaves below his knee that wound
+ With silvery scales were sheathed and bound.
+ But were it not that high command
+ Spake in his eye, and tone, and hand, 630
+ All that a careless eye could see
+ In him was some young Galiongée.[162]
+
+ X.
+
+ "I said I was not what I seemed;
+ And now thou see'st my words were true:
+ I have a tale thou hast not dreamed,
+ If sooth--its truth must others rue.
+ My story now 'twere vain to hide,
+ I must not see thee Osman's bride:
+ But had not thine own lips declared
+ How much of that young heart I shared, 640
+ I could not, must not, yet have shown
+ The darker secret of my own.
+ In this I speak not now of love;
+ That--let Time--Truth--and Peril prove:
+ But first--Oh! never wed another--
+ Zuleika! I am not thy brother!"
+
+ XI.
+
+ "Oh! not my brother!--yet unsay--
+ God! am I left alone on earth
+ To mourn--I dare not curse--the day[gi]
+ That saw my solitary birth? 650
+ Oh! thou wilt love me now no more!
+ My sinking heart foreboded ill;
+ But know _me_ all I was before,
+ Thy sister--friend--Zuleika still.
+ Thou led'st me here perchance to kill;
+ If thou hast cause for vengeance, see!
+ My breast is offered--take thy fill!
+ Far better with the dead to be
+ Than live thus nothing now to thee:
+ Perhaps far worse, for now I know 660
+ Why Giaffir always seemed thy foe;
+ And I, alas! am Giaffir's child,
+ For whom thou wert contemned, reviled.
+ If not thy sister--would'st thou save
+ My life--Oh! bid me be thy slave!"
+
+ XII.
+
+ "My slave, Zuleika!--nay, I'm thine:
+ But, gentle love, this transport calm,
+ Thy lot shall yet be linked with mine;
+ I swear it by our Prophet's shrine,[gj]
+ And be that thought thy sorrow's balm. 670
+ So may the Koran[163] verse displayed
+ Upon its steel direct my blade,
+ In danger's hour to guard us both,
+ As I preserve that awful oath!
+ The name in which thy heart hath prided
+ Must change; but, my Zuleika, know,
+ That tie is widened, not divided,
+ Although thy Sire's my deadliest foe.
+ My father was to Giaffir all
+ That Selim late was deemed to thee; 680
+ That brother wrought a brother's fall,
+ But spared, at least, my infancy!
+ And lulled me with a vain deceit
+ That yet a like return may meet.
+ He reared me, not with tender help,
+ But like the nephew of a Cain;[164]
+ He watched me like a lion's whelp,
+ That gnaws and yet may break his chain.
+ My father's blood in every vein
+ Is boiling! but for thy dear sake 690
+ No present vengeance will I take;
+ Though here I must no more remain.
+ But first, beloved Zuleika! hear
+ How Giaffir wrought this deed of fear.
+
+ XIII.
+
+ "How first their strife to rancour grew,
+ If Love or Envy made them foes,
+ It matters little if I knew;
+ In fiery spirits, slights, though few
+ And thoughtless, will disturb repose.
+ In war Abdallah's arm was strong, 700
+ Remembered yet in Bosniac song,[165]
+ And Paswan's[166] rebel hordes attest
+ How little love they bore such guest:
+ His death is all I need relate,
+ The stern effect of Giaffir's hate;
+ And how my birth disclosed to me,[gk]
+ Whate'er beside it makes, hath made me free.
+
+ XIV.
+
+ "When Paswan, after years of strife,
+ At last for power, but first for life,
+ In Widdin's walls too proudly sate, 710
+ Our Pachas rallied round the state;
+ Not last nor least in high command,
+ Each brother led a separate band;
+ They gave their Horse-tails[167] to the wind,
+ And mustering in Sophia's plain
+ Their tents were pitched, their post assigned;
+ To one, alas! assigned in vain!
+ What need of words? the deadly bowl,
+ By Giaffir's order drugged and given,
+ With venom subtle as his soul,[gl]
+ Dismissed Abdallah's hence to heaven. 720
+ Reclined and feverish in the bath,
+ He, when the hunter's sport was up,
+ But little deemed a brother's wrath
+ To quench his thirst had such a cup:
+ The bowl a bribed attendant bore;
+ He drank one draught,[168] nor needed more!
+ If thou my tale, Zuleika, doubt,
+ Call Haroun--he can tell it out.
+
+ XV.
+
+ "The deed once done, and Paswan's feud 730
+ In part suppressed, though ne'er subdued,
+ Abdallah's Pachalick was gained:--
+ Thou know'st not what in our Divan
+ Can wealth procure for worse than man--
+ Abdallah's honours were obtained
+ By him a brother's murder stained;
+ 'Tis true, the purchase nearly drained
+ His ill-got treasure, soon replaced.
+ Would'st question whence? Survey the waste,
+ And ask the squalid peasant how 740
+ His gains repay his broiling brow!--
+ Why me the stern Usurper spared,
+ Why thus with me his palace spared,
+ I know not. Shame--regret--remorse--
+ And little fear from infant's force--
+ Besides, adoption as a son
+ By him whom Heaven accorded none,
+ Or some unknown cabal, caprice,
+ Preserved me thus:--but not in peace:
+ He cannot curb his haughty mood,[gm] 750
+ Nor I forgive a father's blood.
+
+ XVI.
+
+ "Within thy Father's house are foes;
+ Not all who break his bread are true:
+ To these should I my birth disclose,
+ His days-his very hours were few:
+ They only want a heart to lead,
+ A hand to point them to the deed.
+ But Haroun only knows, or knew
+ This tale, whose close is almost nigh:
+ He in Abdallah's palace grew, 760
+ And held that post in his Serai
+ Which holds he here--he saw him die;
+ But what could single slavery do?
+ Avenge his lord? alas! too late;
+ Or save his son from such a fate?
+ He chose the last, and when elate
+ With foes subdued, or friends betrayed,
+ Proud Giaffir in high triumph sate,
+ He led me helpless to his gate,
+ And not in vain it seems essayed 770
+ To save the life for which he prayed.
+ The knowledge of my birth secured
+ From all and each, but most from me;
+ Thus Giaffir's safety was ensured.
+ Removed he too from Roumelie
+ To this our Asiatic side,
+ Far from our seats by Danube's tide,
+ With none but Haroun, who retains
+ Such knowledge--and that Nubian feels
+ A Tyrant's secrets are but chains, 780
+ From which the captive gladly steals,
+ And this and more to me reveals:
+ Such still to guilt just Allah sends--
+ Slaves, tools, accomplices--no friends!
+
+ XVII.
+
+ "All this, Zuleika, harshly sounds;
+ But harsher still my tale must be:
+ Howe'er my tongue thy softness wounds,
+ Yet I must prove all truth to thee."[gn]
+ I saw thee start this garb to see,
+ Yet is it one I oft have worn, 790
+ And long must wear: this Galiongée,
+ To whom thy plighted vow is sworn,
+ Is leader of those pirate hordes,
+ Whose laws and lives are on their swords;
+ To hear whose desolating tale
+ Would make thy waning cheek more pale:
+ Those arms thou see'st my band have brought,
+ The hands that wield are not remote;
+ This cup too for the rugged knaves
+ Is filled--once quaffed, they ne'er repine: 800
+ Our Prophet might forgive the slaves;
+ They're only infidels in wine.
+
+ XVIII.
+
+ "What could I be? Proscribed at home,
+ And taunted to a wish to roam;
+ And listless left--for Giaffir's fear
+ Denied the courser and the spear--
+ Though oft--Oh, Mahomet! how oft!--
+ In full Divan the despot scoffed,
+ As if _my_ weak unwilling hand
+ Refused the bridle or the brand: 810
+ He ever went to war alone,
+ And pent me here untried--unknown;
+ To Haroun's care with women left,[go]
+ By hope unblest, of fame bereft,
+ While thou--whose softness long endeared,
+ Though it unmanned me, still had cheered--
+ To Brusa's walls for safety sent,
+ Awaited'st there the field's event.
+ Haroun who saw my spirit pining[gp]
+ Beneath inaction's sluggish yoke, 820
+ His captive, though with dread resigning,
+ My thraldom for a season broke,
+ On promise to return before
+ The day when Giaffir's charge was o'er.
+ 'Tis vain--my tongue can not impart[gq]
+ My almost drunkenness of heart,[169]
+ When first this liberated eye
+ Surveyed Earth--Ocean--Sun--and Sky--
+ As if my Spirit pierced them through,
+ And all their inmost wonders knew! 830
+ One word alone can paint to thee
+ That more than feeling--I was Free!
+ E'en for thy presence ceased to pine;
+ The World--nay, Heaven itself was mine!
+
+ XIX.
+
+ "The shallop of a trusty Moor
+ Conveyed me from this idle shore;
+ I longed to see the isles that gem
+ Old Ocean's purple diadem:
+ I sought by turns, and saw them all;[170]
+ But when and where I joined the crew, 840
+ With whom I'm pledged to rise or fall,
+ When all that we design to do
+ Is done,'twill then be time more meet
+ To tell thee, when the tale's complete.
+
+ XX.
+
+ "'Tis true, they are a lawless brood,
+ But rough in form, nor mild in mood;
+ And every creed, and every race,
+ With them hath found--may find a place:
+ But open speech, and ready hand,
+ Obedience to their Chief's command; 850
+ A soul for every enterprise,
+ That never sees with Terror's eyes;
+ Friendship for each, and faith to all,
+ And vengeance vowed for those who fall,
+ Have made them fitting instruments
+ For more than e'en my own intents.
+ And some--and I have studied all
+ Distinguished from the vulgar rank,
+ But chiefly to my council call
+ The wisdom of the cautious Frank:-- 860
+ And some to higher thoughts aspire.
+ The last of Lambro's[171] patriots there
+ Anticipated freedom share;
+ And oft around the cavern fire
+ On visionary schemes debate,
+ To snatch the Rayahs[172] from their fate.
+ So let them ease their hearts with prate
+ Of equal rights, which man ne'er knew;
+ I have a love for freedom too.
+ Aye! let me like the ocean-Patriarch[173] roam, 870
+ Or only know on land the Tartar's home![174]
+ My tent on shore, my galley on the sea,
+ Are more than cities and Serais to me:[175]
+ Borne by my steed, or wafted by my sail,
+ Across the desert, or before the gale,
+ Bound where thou wilt, my barb! or glide, my prow!
+ But be the Star that guides the wanderer, Thou!
+ Thou, my Zuleika, share and bless my bark;
+ The Dove of peace and promise to mine ark![176]
+ Or, since that hope denied in worlds of strife, 880
+ Be thou the rainbow to the storms of life!
+ The evening beam that smiles the clouds away,
+ And tints to-morrow with prophetic ray![177]
+ Blest--as the Muezzin's strain from Mecca's wall
+ To pilgrims pure and prostrate at his call;
+ Soft--as the melody of youthful days,
+ That steals the trembling tear of speechless praise;
+ Dear--as his native song to Exile's ears,[gr]
+ Shall sound each tone thy long-loved voice endears.
+ For thee in those bright isles is built a bower 890
+ Blooming as Aden[178] in its earliest hour.
+ A thousand swords, with Selim's heart and hand,
+ Wait--wave--defend--destroy--at thy command![gs]
+ Girt by my band, Zuleika at my side,
+ The spoil of nations shall bedeck my bride.
+ The Haram's languid years of listless ease
+ Are well resigned for cares--for joys like these:
+ Not blind to Fate, I see, where'er I rove,
+ Unnumbered perils,--but one only love!
+ Yet well my toils shall that fond breast repay, 900
+ Though Fortune frown, or falser friends betray.
+ How dear the dream in darkest hours of ill,
+ Should all be changed, to find thee faithful still!
+ Be but thy soul, like Selim's firmly shown;
+ To thee be Selim's tender as thine own;
+ To soothe each sorrow, share in each delight,[gt]
+ Blend every thought, do all--but disunite!
+ Once free, 'tis mine our horde again to guide;
+ Friends to each other, foes to aught beside:[179]
+ Yet there we follow but the bent assigned 910
+ By fatal Nature to man's warring kind:[gu]
+ Mark! where his carnage and his conquests cease!
+ He makes a solitude, and calls it--peace![gv][180]
+ I like the rest must use my skill or strength,
+ But ask no land beyond my sabre's length:
+ Power sways but by division--her resource[gw]
+ The blest alternative of fraud or force!
+ Ours be the last; in time Deceit may come
+ When cities cage us in a social home:
+ There ev'n thy soul might err--how oft the heart 920
+ Corruption shakes which Peril could not part!
+ And Woman, more than Man, when Death or Woe,
+ Or even Disgrace, would lay her lover low,
+ Sunk in the lap of Luxury will shame--
+ Away suspicion!--_not_ Zuleika's name!
+ But life is hazard at the best; and here
+ No more remains to win, and much to fear:
+ Yes, fear!--the doubt, the dread of losing thee,
+ By Osman's power, and Giaffir's stern decree.
+ That dread shall vanish with the favouring gale, 930
+ Which Love to-night hath promised to my sail:[gx]
+ No danger daunts the pair his smile hath blest,
+ Their steps still roving, but their hearts at rest.
+ With thee all toils are sweet, each clime hath charms;
+ Earth--sea alike--our world within our arms!
+ Aye--let the loud winds whistle o'er the deck,[181]
+ So that those arms cling closer round my neck:
+ The deepest murmur of this lip shall be,[gy][182]
+ No sigh for safety, but a prayer for thee!
+ The war of elements no fears impart 940
+ To Love, whose deadliest bane is human Art:
+ _There_ lie the only rocks our course can check;
+ _Here_ moments menace--_there_ are years of wreck!
+ But hence ye thoughts that rise in Horror's shape!
+ This hour bestows, or ever bars escape.[gz]
+ Few words remain of mine my tale to close;
+ Of thine but _one_ to waft us from our foes;
+ Yea--foes--to me will Giaffir's hate decline?
+ And is not Osman, who would part us, thine?
+
+ XXI.
+
+ "His head and faith from doubt and death 950
+ Returned in time my guard to save;
+ Few heard, none told, that o'er the wave
+ From isle to isle I roved the while:
+ And since, though parted from my band
+ Too seldom now I leave the land,
+ No deed they've done, nor deed shall do,
+ Ere I have heard and doomed it too:
+ I form the plan--decree the spoil--
+ Tis fit I oftener share the toil.
+ But now too long I've held thine ear; 960
+ Time presses--floats my bark--and here
+ We leave behind but hate and fear.
+ To-morrow Osman with his train
+ Arrives--to-night must break thy chain:
+ And would'st thou save that haughty Bey,--
+ Perchance _his_ life who gave thee thine,--
+ With me this hour away--away!
+ But yet, though thou art plighted mine,
+ Would'st thou recall thy willing vow,
+ Appalled by truths imparted now, 970
+ Here rest I--not to see thee wed:
+ But be that peril on _my_ head!"
+
+ XXII.
+
+ Zuleika, mute and motionless,
+ Stood like that Statue of Distress,
+ When, her last hope for ever gone,
+ The Mother hardened into stone;
+ All in the maid that eye could see
+ Was but a younger Niobé.
+ But ere her lip, or even her eye,
+ Essayed to speak, or look reply, 980
+ Beneath the garden's wicket porch
+ Far flashed on high a blazing torch!
+ Another--and another--and another--[183]
+ "Oh! fly--no more--yet now my more than brother!"
+ Far, wide, through every thicket spread
+ The fearful lights are gleaming red;
+ Nor these alone--for each right hand
+ Is ready with a sheathless brand.
+ They part--pursue--return, and wheel
+ With searching flambeau, shining steel; 990
+ And last of all, his sabre waving,
+ Stern Giaffir in his fury raving:
+ And now almost they touch the cave--
+ Oh! must that grot be Selim's grave?
+
+ XXIII.
+
+ Dauntless he stood--"'Tis come--soon past--
+ One kiss, Zuleika--'tis my last:
+ But yet my band not far from shore
+ May hear this signal, see the flash;
+ Yet now too few--the attempt were rash:
+ No matter--yet one effort more." 1000
+ Forth to the cavern mouth he stept;
+ His pistol's echo rang on high,
+ Zuleika started not, nor wept,
+ Despair benumbed her breast and eye!--
+ "They hear me not, or if they ply
+ Their oars,'tis but to see me die;
+ That sound hath drawn my foes more nigh.
+ Then forth my father's scimitar,
+ Thou ne'er hast seen less equal war!
+ Farewell, Zuleika!--Sweet! retire: 1010
+ Yet stay within--here linger safe,
+ At thee his rage will only chafe.
+ Stir not--lest even to thee perchance
+ Some erring blade or ball should glance.
+ Fear'st them for him?--may I expire
+ If in this strife I seek thy sire!
+ No--though by him that poison poured;
+ No--though again he call me coward!
+ But tamely shall I meet their steel?
+ No--as each crest save _his_ may feel!" 1020
+
+ XXIV.
+
+ One bound he made, and gained the sand:
+ Already at his feet hath sunk
+ The foremost of the prying band,
+ A gasping head, a quivering trunk:
+ Another falls--but round him close
+ A swarming circle of his foes;
+ From right to left his path he cleft,
+ And almost met the meeting wave:
+ His boat appears--not five oars' length--
+ His comrades strain with desperate strength-- 1030
+ Oh! are they yet in time to save?
+ His feet the foremost breakers lave;
+ His band are plunging in the bay,
+ Their sabres glitter through the spray;
+ Wet--wild--unwearied to the strand
+ They struggle--now they touch the land!
+ They come--'tis but to add to slaughter--
+ His heart's best blood is on the water.
+
+ XXV.
+
+ Escaped from shot, unharmed by steel,
+ Or scarcely grazed its force to feel,[ha] 1040
+ Had Selim won, betrayed, beset,
+ To where the strand and billows met;
+ There as his last step left the land,
+ And the last death-blow dealt his hand--
+ Ah! wherefore did he turn to look[hb]
+ For her his eye but sought in vain?
+ That pause, that fatal gaze he took,
+ Hath doomed his death, or fixed his chain.
+ Sad proof, in peril and in pain,
+ How late will Lover's hope remain! 1050
+ His back was to the dashing spray;
+ Behind, but close, his comrades lay,
+ When, at the instant, hissed the ball--
+ "So may the foes of Giaffir fall!"
+ Whose voice is heard? whose carbine rang?
+ Whose bullet through the night-air sang,
+ Too nearly, deadly aimed to err?
+ 'Tis thine--Abdallah's Murderer!
+ The father slowly rued thy hate,
+ The son hath found a quicker fate: 1060
+ Fast from his breast the blood is bubbling,
+ The whiteness of the sea-foam troubling--
+ If aught his lips essayed to groan,
+ The rushing billows choked the tone!
+
+ XXVI.
+
+ Morn slowly rolls the clouds away;
+ Few trophies of the fight are there:
+ The shouts that shook the midnight-bay
+ Are silent; but some signs of fray
+ That strand of strife may bear,
+ And fragments of each shivered brand; 1070
+ Steps stamped; and dashed into the sand
+ The print of many a struggling hand
+ May there be marked; nor far remote
+ A broken torch, an oarless boat;
+ And tangled on the weeds that heap
+ The beach where shelving to the deep
+ There lies a white capote!
+ 'Tis rent in twain--one dark-red stain
+ The wave yet ripples o'er in vain:
+ But where is he who wore? 1080
+ Ye! who would o'er his relics weep,
+ Go, seek them where the surges sweep
+ Their burthen round Sigæum's steep
+ And cast on Lemnos' shore:
+ The sea-birds shriek above the prey,
+ O'er which their hungry beaks delay,[hc]
+ As shaken on his restless pillow,
+ His head heaves with the heaving billow;
+ That hand, whose motion is not life,[hd]
+ Yet feebly seems to menace strife, 1090
+ Flung by the tossing tide on high,
+ Then levelled with the wave--[184]
+ What recks it, though that corse shall lie
+ Within a living grave?
+ The bird that tears that prostrate form
+ Hath only robbed the meaner worm;
+ The only heart, the only eye
+ Had bled or wept to see him die,
+ Had seen those scattered limbs composed,
+ And mourned above his turban-stone,[185] 1100
+ That heart hath burst--that eye was closed--
+ Yea--closed before his own!
+
+ XXVII.
+
+ By Helle's stream there is a voice of wail!
+ And Woman's eye is wet--Man's cheek is pale:
+ Zuleika! last of Giaffir's race,
+ Thy destined lord is come too late:
+ He sees not--ne'er shall see thy face!
+ Can he not hear
+ The loud Wul-wulleh[186] warn his distant ear?
+ Thy handmaids weeping at the gate, 1110
+ The Koran-chanters of the Hymn of Fate,[he][187]
+ The silent slaves with folded arms that wait,
+ Sighs in the hall, and shrieks upon the gale,
+ Tell him thy tale!
+ Thou didst not view thy Selim fall!
+ That fearful moment when he left the cave
+ Thy heart grew chill:
+ He was thy hope--thy joy--thy love--thine all,
+ And that last thought on him thou could'st not save
+ Sufficed to kill; 1120
+ Burst forth in one wild cry--and all was still.
+ Peace to thy broken heart--and virgin grave!
+ Ah! happy! but of life to lose the worst!
+ That grief--though deep--though fatal--was thy first!
+ Thrice happy! ne'er to feel nor fear the force
+ Of absence--shame--pride--hate--revenge--remorse!
+ And, oh! that pang where more than Madness lies
+ The Worm that will not sleep--and never dies;
+ Thought of the gloomy day and ghastly night,
+ That dreads the darkness, and yet loathes the light, 1130
+ That winds around, and tears the quivering heart!
+ Ah! wherefore not consume it--and depart!
+ Woe to thee, rash and unrelenting Chief!
+ Vainly thou heap'st the dust upon thy head,
+ Vainly the sackcloth o'er thy limbs dost spread:[188]
+ By that same hand Abdallah--Selim bled.
+ Now let it tear thy beard in idle grief:
+ Thy pride of heart, thy bride for Osman's bed,
+ She, whom thy Sultan had but seen to wed,[hf]
+ Thy Daughter's dead! 1140
+ Hope of thine age, thy twilight's lonely beam,
+ The Star hath set that shone on Helle's stream.
+ What quenched its ray?--the blood that thou hast shed!
+ Hark! to the hurried question of Despair:[189]
+ "Where is my child?"--an Echo answers--"Where?"[190]
+
+ XXVIII.
+
+ Within the place of thousand tombs
+ That shine beneath, while dark above
+ The sad but living cypress glooms[hg]
+ And withers not, though branch and leaf
+ Are stamped with an eternal grief, 1150
+ Like early unrequited Love,
+ One spot exists, which ever blooms,
+ Ev'n in that deadly grove--
+ A single rose is shedding there
+ Its lonely lustre, meek and pale:
+ It looks as planted by Despair--
+ So white--so faint--the slightest gale
+ Might whirl the leaves on high;
+ And yet, though storms and blight assail,
+ And hands more rude than wintry sky 1160
+ May wring it from the stem--in vain--
+ To-morrow sees it bloom again!
+ The stalk some Spirit gently rears,
+ And waters with celestial tears;
+ For well may maids of Helle deem
+ That this can be no earthly flower,
+ Which mocks the tempest's withering hour,
+ And buds unsheltered by a bower;
+ Nor droops, though Spring refuse her shower,
+ Nor woos the Summer beam: 1170
+ To it the livelong night there sings
+ A Bird unseen--but not remote:
+ Invisible his airy wings,
+ But soft as harp that Houri strings
+ His long entrancing note!
+ It were the Bulbul; but his throat,
+ Though mournful, pours not such a strain:
+ For they who listen cannot leave
+ The spot, but linger there and grieve,
+ As if they loved in vain! 1180
+ And yet so sweet the tears they shed,
+ 'Tis sorrow so unmixed with dread,
+ They scarce can bear the morn to break
+ That melancholy spell,
+ And longer yet would weep and wake,
+ He sings so wild and well!
+ But when the day-blush bursts from high[hh]
+ Expires that magic melody.
+ And some have been who could believe,[hi]
+ (So fondly youthful dreams deceive, 1190
+ Yet harsh be they that blame,)
+ That note so piercing and profound
+ Will shape and syllable[191] its sound
+ Into Zuleika's name.
+ 'Tis from her cypress summit heard,
+ That melts in air the liquid word:
+ 'Tis from her lowly virgin earth
+ That white rose takes its tender birth.
+ There late was laid a marble stone;
+ Eve saw it placed--the Morrow gone! 1200
+ It was no mortal arm that bore
+ That deep fixed pillar to the shore;
+ For there, as Helle's legends tell,
+ Next morn 'twas found where Selim fell;
+ Lashed by the tumbling tide, whose wave
+ Denied his bones a holier grave:
+ And there by night, reclined, 'tis said.
+ Is seen a ghastly turbaned head:[192]
+ And hence extended by the billow,
+ 'Tis named the "Pirate-phantom's pillow!" 1210
+ Where first it lay that mourning flower
+ Hath flourished; flourisheth this hour,
+ Alone and dewy--coldly pure and pale;
+ As weeping Beauty's cheek at Sorrow's tale![hj][193]
+
+
+
+
+ NOTE TO _THE BRIDE OF ABYDOS_.
+
+
+ CANTO II. STANZA XX.
+
+After the completion of the fair copy of the MS. of the _Bride of
+Abydos_, seventy lines were added to stanza xx. of Canto II. In both
+MSS. the rough and fair copies, the stanza ends with the line, "The Dove
+of peace and promise to mine ark!"
+
+Seven MS. sheets are extant, which make up the greater portion of these
+additional lines.
+
+The _First Addition_ amounts to eight lines, and takes the narrative
+from line 880 to line 893, "Wait--wave--defend--destroy--at thy
+command!"
+
+Lines 884-889 do not appear in the first MS. Fragment, but are given in
+three variants on separate sheets. Two of these are dated December 2 and
+December 3, 1813.
+
+The _Second Fragment_ begins with line 890, "For thee in those bright
+isles is built a bower," and, numbering twenty-two lines, ends with a
+variant of line 907, "Blend every thought, do all--but disunite!" Two
+lines of this addition, "With thee all toils are sweet," find a place in
+the text as lines 934, 935.
+
+The _Third Fragment_ amounts to thirty-six lines, and may be taken as
+the first draft of the whole additions--lines 880-949.
+
+Lines 908-925 and 936-945 of the text are still later additions, but a
+fourth MS. fragment supplies lines 920-925 and lines 936-945. (A fair
+copy of this fragment gives text for Revise of November 13.) Between
+November 13 and November 25 no less than ten revises of the _Bride_
+were submitted to Lord Byron. In the earliest of these, dated November
+13, the thirty-six lines of the Third Fragment have been expanded into
+forty lines--four lines of the MS. being omitted, and twelve lines,
+908-919, "Once free,"--"social home," being inserted. The text passed
+through five revises and remained unaltered till November 21, when
+eighteen lines were added to the forty, viz.: (4) "Mark! where his
+carnage,"--"sabre's length;" (6) "There ev'n thy soul,"--"Zuleika's
+name;" and (8) "Aye--let the loud winds,"--"bars escape." Of these the
+two latter additions belong to the _Fourth Fragment_. The text in this
+state passed through three more revises, but before the first edition
+was issued two more lines were added--lines 938, 939,
+
+ "The deepest murmur of this lip shall be,
+ No sigh for safety, but a prayer for thee!"
+
+Even then the six lines, "Blest--as the Muezzin's,"--"endears," are
+wanting in the text; but the four lines, "Soft--as the
+melody,"--"endears," are inserted in MS. in the margin. The text as it
+stands first appears in the Seventh Edition.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[_First_ Draft of 880, _sq_., of Canto II. Stanz xx.
+of the _Bride of Abydos_.]
+
+ For thee in those bright isles is built a bower
+ Aden, in its earliest hour
+ Blooming as {-Eden--guarded like a tower-}
+ A thousand swords--thy Selim's soul and hand
+ Wait on thy voice, and bow to thy command
+ pair
+ No Danger daunts--the {-souls-} that Love hath blest
+ steps still roving
+ With {-feet long-wandering-}--but with hearts at rest.
+ {-For thee my blade shall shine--my hand shall toil-}
+ With thee all toils were sweet--each clime hath charms {line 934}
+ Earth--sea--alike--one World within our arms {line 935}
+ Girt by my hand--Zuleika at my side--
+ The Spoil of nations shall bedeck my bride
+ slumbring
+ The Haram's sluggish life of listless ease
+ Is well exchanged for cares and joys like these
+ {-Mine be the lot to know where'er I rove-}
+ {-A thousand perils wait where-er I rove,-}
+ Not blind to fate I view where-er I rove
+ A thousand perils--but one only love--
+ Yet well my labor shall fond breast repay
+ When Fortune frowns or falser friends betray
+ How dear the thought in darkest hours of ill
+ Should all be changed to find thee faithful still
+ Be but thy soul like Selim's firmly shown
+ {-mine in firmness-}
+ {-Firm as my own I deem thy tender heart-}
+ To thee be Selim's tender as thine own
+ Exchange, or mingle every thought with his
+ And all our future days unite in this.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Man I may lead--but trust not--I may fall
+ By those now friends to me--yet foes to all--
+ In this they follow but the bent assigned
+ fatal Nature
+ By {-savage Nature-} to our warning kind
+ _But there--oh, far be every thought of fear_
+ Life is but peril at the best--and here
+ No more remains to win and much to fear
+ Yes fear--the doubt the dread of losing thee--
+ That dread must vanish.
+
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[ey]
+ To the Right Hon^ble^
+ Henry Richard Vassal
+ Lord Holland
+ This Tale
+ Is inscribed with
+ Every sentiment of the
+ Most affectionate respect
+ by his gratefully obliged serv^t.
+ And sincere Friend
+ Byron.
+
+ [_Proof and Revise._--See _Letters to Murray_, November 13, 17, 1813.]
+
+[124] {157} ["Murray tells me that Croker asked him why the thing was
+called the _Bride_ of Abydos? It is a cursed awkward question, being
+unanswerable. _She_ is not a _bride_, only about to become one. I don't
+wonder at his finding out the _Bull_; but the detection ... is too late
+to do any good. I was a great fool to make it, and am ashamed of not
+being an Irishman."--_Journal_, December 6, 1813; _Letters_, 1898, ii.
+365.
+
+Byron need not have been dismayed. "The term is particularly applied on
+the day of marriage and during the 'honeymoon,' but is frequently used
+from the proclamation of the banns.... In the debate on Prince Leopold's
+allowance, Mr. Gladstone, being criticized for speaking of the Princess
+Helena as the 'bride,' said he believed that colloquially a lady when
+engaged was often called a 'bride.' This was met with 'Hear! Hear!' from
+some, and 'No! No!' from others."--_N. Engl. Dict_., art. "Bride."]
+
+[125] [The opening lines were probably suggested by Goethe's--
+
+ "Kennst du das Land wo die citronen blühn?"]
+
+[126] "Gúl," the rose.
+
+[127] {158} ["'Where the Citron,' etc. These lines are in the MS., and
+_omitted_ by the _Printer_, whom I _again_ request to look over it, and
+see that no others are _omitted_.--B." (Revise No. 1, November 13,
+1813.)
+
+"I ought and do apologise to Mr.---- the Printer for charging him with
+an omission of the lines which I find was my own--but I also wish _he_
+would not print such a stupid word as _finest_ for fairest." (Revise,
+November 15, 1813.)
+
+The lines, "Where the Citron," etc., are absent from a fair copy dated
+November 11, but are inserted as an addition in an earlier draft.]
+
+[128]
+ "Souls made of fire, and children of the Sun,
+ With whom revenge is virtue."
+ Young's _Revenge_, act v. sc. 2 (_British Theatre_, 1792, p. 84).
+
+[ez] _For wild as the moment of lovers' farewell_.--[MS.]
+
+[fa] _Canto 1^st^ The Bride of Abydos. Nov. 1^st^ 1813_.--[MS.]
+
+[fb] {159} _The changing cheek and knitting brow_.--[MS. i.]
+
+[fc]
+ _Hence--bid my daughter hither come_
+ _This hour decides her future doom--_
+ _Yet not to her these words express_
+ _But lead her from the tower's recess_.--[MSS. i., ii.]
+
+[These lines must have been altered in proof, for all the revises accord
+with the text.]
+
+[fd] {160} _With many a tale and mutual song_.--[ms]
+
+[129] Mejnoun and Leila, the Romeo and Juliet of the East. Sadi, the
+moral poet of Persia. [For the "story of Leila and Mujnoon," see _The
+Gulistan, or Rose Garden_ of ... Saadi, translated by Francis Gladwin,
+Boston, 1865, Tale xix. pp. 288, 289; and Gulistan ... du Cheikh Sa'di
+... Traduit par W. Semelet, Paris, 1834, Notes on Chapitre V. p. 304.
+Sa'di "moralizes" the tale, to the effect that love dwells in the eye of
+the beholder. See, too, J[=a]m[=i]'s _Medjnoun et Leila_, translated by
+A. L. Chezy, Paris, 1807.]
+
+[130] Tambour. Turkish drum, which sounds at sunrise, noon, and
+twilight. [The "tambour" is a kind of mandoline. It is the large
+kettle-drum (_nagaré_) which sounds the hours.]
+
+[fe] {161}
+ _Must walk forsooth where waters flow_
+ _And pore on every flower below_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[ff] {162} _For looks of peace and hearts of ire_.--[MS.]
+
+[fg] _And calmly to his Sire's was raised_.--[MS.]
+
+[fh] {163} _No--nor the blood I call my own_.--[MS.]
+
+[131] The Turks abhor the Arabs (who return the compliment a
+hundredfold) even more than they hate the Christians.
+
+[fi] _Or Christian flying from the fight_.--[MS.]
+
+[fj] _Zuleika! ever welcome here_.--[MS.]
+
+[fk] _Who never was more blest than now_.--[MS.]
+
+[132] {164} [Lines 170-181 were added in the course of printing. They
+were received by the publisher on November 22, 1813.]
+
+[fl]
+ _Who hath not felt his very power of sight_
+ _Faint with the languid dimness of delight?_--[MS.]
+
+[fm]
+ _The light of life--the purity of grace_
+ _The mind of Music breathing in her face_
+or,
+ _Mind on her lip and music in her face._
+ _A heart where softness harmonized the whole_
+ _And oh! her eye was in itself a Soul!_--[MS.]
+
+[133] This expression has met with objections. I will not refer to "Him
+who hath not Music in his soul," but merely request the reader to
+recollect, for ten seconds, the features of the woman whom he believes
+to be the most beautiful; and, if he then does not comprehend fully what
+is feebly expressed in the above line, I shall be sorry for us both. For
+an eloquent passage in the latest work of the first female writer of
+this, perhaps of any, age, on the analogy (and the immediate comparison
+excited by that analogy) between "painting and music," see vol. iii.
+cap. 10, De l'Allemagne. And is not this connection still stronger with
+the original than the copy? with the colouring of Nature than of Art?
+After all, this is rather to be felt than described; still I think there
+are some who will understand it, at least they would have done had they
+beheld the countenance whose speaking harmony suggested the idea; for
+this passage is not drawn from imagination but memory,{A} that mirror
+which Affliction dashes to the earth, and looking down upon the
+fragments, only beholds the reflection multiplied!
+
+[For the simile of the broken mirror, compare _Childe Harold_, Canto
+III. stanza xxxiii. line 1 (_Poetical Works_, ii. 236, note 2); and for
+"the expression," "music breathing from her face," compare Sir Thomas
+Browne's _Religio Medici_, Part II. sect, ix., _Works_, 1835, ii. 106,
+"And sure there is musick, even in the beauty and the silent note which
+Cupid strikes, far sweeter than the sound of any instrument;" and
+Lovelace's "Song," _Orpheus to Beasts_--
+
+ "Oh could you view the melody
+ Of ev'ry grace,
+ And music of her face!"
+
+The effect of the appeal to Madame de Staël is thus recorded in Byron's
+_Journal_ of December 7, 1813 (_Letters_, 1898, ii. 369): "This morning,
+a very pretty billet from the Staël," (for passage in _De L'Allemagne_,
+Part III. chap, x., and the "billet," see _Letters,_ ii. 354, note 1)
+... "She has been pleased to be pleased with my slight eulogy in the
+note annexed to _The Bride_."]
+
+{A} _In this line I have not drawn from fiction but memory--that mirror
+of regret memory--the too faithful mirror of affliction the long vista
+through which we gaze. Someone has said that the perfection of
+Architecture is frozen music--the perfection of Beauty to my mind always
+presented the idea of living Music_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[134] {166} Carasman Oglou, or Kara Osman Oglou, is the principal
+landholder in Turkey; he governs Magnesia: those who, by a kind of
+feudal tenure, possess land on condition of service, are called
+Timariots: they serve as Spahis, according to the extent of territory,
+and bring a certain number into the field, generally cavalry.
+
+[The "line of Carasman" dates back to Kara Youlouk, the founder of the
+dynasty of the "White Sheep," at the close of the fourteenth century.
+Hammer-Purgstall (_Hist. de l'Emp. Ottoman_, iii. 151) gives _sang-sue_,
+"blood-sucker," as the equivalent of Youlouk, which should, however, be
+interpreted "smooth-face." Of the Magnesian Kara Osman Oglou ("Black
+Osman-son"), Dallaway (_Constantinople Ancient and Modern_, 1797, p.
+190) writes, "He is the most powerful and opulent derè bey ('lord of the
+valley'), or feudal tenant, in the empire, and, though inferior to the
+pashas in rank, possesses more wealth and influence, and offers them an
+example of administration and patriotic government which they have
+rarely the virtue to follow." For the Timariots, who formed the third
+class of the feudal cavalry of the Ottoman Empire, see Finlay's _Greece
+under Othoman ... Domination_, 1856, pp. 50, 51.]
+
+[fn] _Who won of yore paternal lands_.--[MS.]
+
+[fo] _Enough if that thy bridesman true_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[135] [The Bey Oglou (Begz[=a]de) is "the nobleman," "the high-born
+chief."]
+
+[136] {167} When a Pacha is sufficiently strong to resist, the single
+messenger, who is always the first bearer of the order for his death, is
+strangled instead, and sometimes five or six, one after the other, on
+the same errand, by command of the refractory patient; if, on the
+contrary, he is weak or loyal, he bows, kisses the Sultan's respectable
+signature, and is bowstrung with great complacency. In 1810, several of
+these presents were exhibited in the niche of the Seraglio gate; among
+others, the head of the Pacha of Bagdat, a brave young man, cut off by
+treachery, after a desperate resistance.
+
+[137] Clapping of the hands calls the servants. The Turks hate a
+superfluous expenditure of voice, and they have no bells.
+
+[138] "Chibouque," the Turkish pipe, of which the amber mouthpiece, and
+sometimes the ball which contains the leaf, is adorned with precious
+stones, if in possession of the wealthier orders.
+
+[139] {168} "Maugrabee" [_Maghrab[=i]_, Moors], Moorish mercenaries.
+
+[140] "Delis," bravos who form the forlorn hope of the cavalry, and
+always begin the action. [See _Childe Harold_, Canto II., _Poetical
+Works_, 1899, ii. 149, note 1.]
+
+[141] [The Kizlar aghasi was the head of the black eunuchs; kislar, by
+itself, is Turkish for "girls," "virgins."]
+
+[142] A twisted fold of _felt_ is used for scimitar practice by the
+Turks, and few but Mussulman arms can cut through it at a single stroke:
+sometimes a tough turban is used for the same purpose. The jerreed
+[jar[=i]d] is a game of blunt javelins, animated and graceful.
+
+[143] "Ollahs," Alla il Allah [La il[=a]h ill 'll[=a]h], the "Leilies,"
+as the Spanish poets call them, the sound is Ollah: a cry of which the
+Turks, for a silent people, are somewhat profuse, particularly during
+the jerreed [jar[=i]d], or in the chase, but mostly in battle. Their
+animation in the field, and gravity in the chamber, with their pipes and
+comboloios [_vide post_, p. 181, note 4], form an amusing contrast.
+
+[fp] {169} _Her heart confessed no cause of shame_.--[MS.]
+
+[144] "Atar-gul," ottar of roses. The Persian is the finest.
+
+[145] The ceiling and wainscots, or rather walls, of the Mussulman
+apartments are generally painted, in great houses, with one eternal and
+highly-coloured view of Constantinople, wherein the principal feature is
+a noble contempt of perspective; below, arms, scimitars, etc., are, in
+general, fancifully and not inelegantly disposed.
+
+[fq]
+ _The drops that flow upon his vest_
+ _Unheeded fell upon his breast_.--[MS.]
+
+[146] {170} It has been much doubted whether the notes of this "Lover of
+the rose" are sad or merry; and Mr. Fox's remarks on the subject have
+provoked some learned controversy as to the opinions of the ancients on
+the subject. I dare not venture a conjecture on the point, though a
+little inclined to the "errare mallem," etc., _if_ Mr. Fox _was_
+mistaken.
+
+[Fox, writing to Grey (see Lord Holland's Preface (p. xii.) to the
+_History ... of James the Second_, by ... C. J. Fox, London, 1808),
+remarks, "In defence of my opinion about the nightingale, I find
+Chaucer, who of all poets seems to have been the fondest of the singing
+of birds, calls it a 'merry note,'" etc. Fox's contention was attacked
+and disproved by Martin Davy (1763-1839, physician and Master of Caius
+College, Cambridge), in an interesting and scholarly pamphlet entitled,
+_Observations upon Mr. Fox's Letter to Mr. Grey_, 1809.]
+
+[fr]
+ _Would I had never seen this hour_
+ _What knowest thou not who loves thee best._--[MS.]
+
+[fs] {171} _If so by Mecca's hidden shrine_.--[MS.]
+
+[ft] _The day that teareth thee from me_.--[MS.]
+
+[147] "Azrael," the angel of death.
+
+[fu] _When comes that hour and come it must_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[fv] {172}
+ _Which thanks to terror and the dark_
+ _Hath missed a trifle of its mark._--[MS.]
+
+[The couplet was expunged in a revise dated November 19.]
+
+[fw] _With life to keep but not with life resign_.--[MS.]
+
+[fx] {173}
+ _That strays along that head so fair._--[MS.]
+ or, _That strays along that neck so fair._--[MS.]
+
+[148] The treasures of the Pre-Adamite Sultans. See D'Herbelot [1781,
+ii. 405], article _Istakar_ [Estekhar _ou_ Istekhar].
+
+[149] "Musselim," a governor, the next in rank after a Pacha; a Waywode
+is the third; and then come the Agas.
+
+[This table of precedence applies to Ottoman officials in Greece and
+other dependencies. The Musselim [Mutaselline] is the governor or
+commander of a city (e.g. Hobhouse, _Travels in Albania_, ii. 41, speaks
+of the "Musselim of Smyrna"); Aghas, i.e. heads of departments in the
+army or civil service, or the Sultan's household, here denote mayors of
+small towns, or local magnates.]
+
+[150] "Egripo," the Negropont. According to the proverb, the Turks of
+Egripo, the Jews of Salonica, and the Greeks of Athens, are the worst of
+their respective races.
+
+[See Gibbon's _Decline and Fall_, 1855, viii. 386.]
+
+[fy] _Like this--and more than this._--[MS.]
+
+[fz] {175}
+ _But--Selim why my heart's reply_
+ _Should need so much of mystery_
+ _Is more than I can guess or tell,_
+ _But since thou say'st 'tis so--'tis well_.--[MS.]
+
+[The fourth line erased.]
+
+[ga]
+ _He blest me more in leaving thee._
+ _Much should I suffer thus compelled_.--[MS.]
+
+[gb] {176}
+ _This vow I should no more conceal_
+ _And wherefore should I not reveal?_--[MS.]
+
+[gc]
+ _My breast is consciousness of sin_
+ _But when and where and what the crime_
+ _I almost feel is lurking here_.--[MS.]
+
+[151] "Tchocadar"--one of the attendants who precedes a man of
+authority.
+
+[See D'Ohsson's _Tableau Générale, etc._, 1787, ii. 159, and _Plates_
+87, 88. The Turks seem to have used the Persian word _chawki-d[=a]r_, an
+officer of the guard-house, a policeman (whence our slang word
+"chokey"), for a "valet de pied," or, in the case of the Sultan, for an
+apparitor. The French spelling points to D'Ohsson as Byron's authority.]
+
+[gd] {177} _Be silent thou_.--[MS.]
+
+[ge] {178} _Nov_. 9^th^ 1813.--[MS.]
+
+[152] [_Vide_ Ovid, _Heroïdes,_ Ep. xix.; and the _De Herone atque
+Leandro_ of Musæus.]
+
+[153] {179} The wrangling about this epithet, "the broad Hellespont" or
+the "boundless Hellespont," whether it means one or the other, or what
+it means at all, has been beyond all possibility of detail. I have even
+heard it disputed on the spot; and not foreseeing a speedy conclusion to
+the controversy, amused myself with swimming across it in the mean time;
+and probably may again, before the point is settled. Indeed, the
+question as to the truth of "the tale of Troy divine" still continues,
+much of it resting upon the talismanic word[Greek: "a)/peiros:"]
+probably Homer had the same notion of distance that a coquette has of
+time; and when he talks of boundless, means half a mile; as the latter,
+by a like figure, when she says _eternal_ attachment, simply specifies
+three weeks.
+
+[For a defence of the Homeric[Greek: a)pei/rôn,] and for a _résumé_ of
+the "wrangling" of the topographers, Jean Baptiste Le Chevalier
+(1752-1836) and Jacob Bryant (1715-1804), etc., see _Travels in
+Albania,_ 1858, ii. 179-185.]
+
+[154] {180} Before his Persian invasion, and crowned the altar with
+laurel, etc. He was afterwards imitated by Caracalla in his race. It is
+believed that the last also poisoned a friend, named Festus, for the
+sake of new Patroclan games. I have seen the sheep feeding on the tombs
+of Æyietes and Antilochus: the first is in the centre of the plain.
+
+[Alexander placed a garland on the tomb of Achilles, and "went through
+the ceremony of anointing himself with oil, and running naked up to
+it."--Plut. _Vitæ_, "Alexander M.," cap. xv. line 25, Lipsiæ, 1814, vi.
+187. For the tombs of Æsyetes, etc., see _Travels in Albania, ii.
+149-151._]
+
+[155] [Compare--
+
+ "Or narrow if needs must be,
+ Outside are the storms and the strangers."
+
+_Never the Time, etc.,_ lines 19, 20, by Robert Browning.]
+
+[156] {181} When rubbed, the amber is susceptible of a perfume, which is
+slight, but _not_ disagreeable. [Letter to Murray, December 6, 1813,
+_Letters_, 1898, ii. 300.]
+
+[157] ["Coeterum castitatis hieroglyphicum gemma est."--Hoffmann,
+_Lexic. Univ._, art. "Smaragdus." Compare, too, _Lalla Rookh_ ("Chandos
+Classics," p. 406), "The emerald's virgin blaze."]
+
+[158] The belief in amulets engraved on gems, or enclosed in gold boxes,
+containing scraps from the Koran, worn round the neck, wrist, or arm, is
+still universal in the East. The Koorsee (throne) verse in the second
+cap. of the Koran describes the attributes of the Most High, and is
+engraved in this manner, and worn by the pious, as the most esteemed and
+sublime of all sentences.
+
+[The _âyatu 'l kursîy_, or verse of the throne (Sura II. "Chapter of the
+Heifer," v. 257), runs thus: "God, there is no God but He, the living
+and self-subsistent. Slumber takes Him not, nor sleep. His is what is in
+the heavens and what is in the earth. Who is it that intercedes with
+Him, save by His permission? He knows what is before them, and what
+behind them, and they comprehend not aught of His knowledge but of what
+He pleases. His throne extends over the heavens and the earth, and it
+tires Him not to guard them both, for He is high and grand."--The
+_Qur'ân_, translated by E. H. Palmer, 1880, Part I., _Sacred Books of
+the East_, vi. 40.]
+
+[159] "Comboloio"--a Turkish rosary. The MSS., particularly those of the
+Persians, are richly adorned and illuminated. The Greek females are kept
+in utter ignorance; but many of the Turkish girls are highly
+accomplished, though not actually qualified for a Christian coterie.
+Perhaps some of our own _"blues"_ might not be the worse for
+_bleaching._
+
+[The comboloio consists of ninety-nine beads. Compare _Lalla Rookh_
+("Chandos Classics," p. 420), "Her ruby rosary," etc., and note on "Le
+Tespih." _Lord Byron's Comboloio_ is the title of a metrical _jeu
+d'esprit,_ a rhymed catalogue of the _Poetical Works,_ beginning with
+_Hours of Idleness,_ and ending with _Cain, a Mystery_.--_Blackwood's
+Magazine,_ 1822, xi. 162-165.]
+
+[160] {182} [Shiraz, capital of the Persian province of Fars, is
+celebrated for the attar-gûl, or attar of roses.]
+
+[gf] {183}
+ _Her Prophet did not clearly show_
+ _But Selim's place was quite secure_.--[MS.]
+
+[161] [Compare _The Giaour_, line 490, note 1, _vide ante_, p. 110.]
+
+[gg] _And one seemed red with recent guilt_.--[MS.]
+
+[gh] {184} _Her Selim--"Alla--is it he?"_--[MS.]
+
+[162] "Galiongée" or Galiongi [i.e. a Galleon-er], a sailor, that is, a
+Turkish sailor; the Greeks navigate, the Turks work the guns. Their
+dress is picturesque; and I have seen the Capitan Pacha, more than once,
+wearing it as a kind of _incog_. Their legs, however, are generally
+naked. The buskins described in the text as sheathed behind with silver
+are those of an Arnaut robber, who was my host (he had quitted the
+profession) at his Pyrgo, near Gastouni in the Morea; they were plated
+in scales one over the other, like the back of an armadillo.
+
+[Gastuni lies some eight miles S.W. of Palæopolis, the site of the
+ancient Elis. The "Pyrgo" must be the Castle of Chlemutzi (Castel
+Tornese), built by Geoffrey II. of Villehouardin, circ. A.D. 1218.]
+
+[gi] {185}
+ _What--have I lived to curse the day?_--[MS. M.]
+ _To curse--if I could curse--the day_.--[MS., ed. 1892.]
+
+[gj] {186} _I swear it by Medina's shrine_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[163] The characters on all Turkish scimitars contain sometimes the name
+of the place of their manufacture, but more generally a text from the
+Koran, in letters of gold. Amongst those in my possession is one with a
+blade of singular construction: it is very broad, and the edge notched
+into serpentine curves like the ripple of water, or the wavering of
+flame. I asked the Armenian who sold it, what possible use such a figure
+could add: he said, in Italian, that he did not know; but the Mussulmans
+had an idea that those of this form gave a severer wound; and liked it
+because it was "piu feroce." I did not much admire the reason, but
+bought it for its peculiarity.
+
+[Compare _Lalla Rookh_ ("Chandos Classics," p. 373)--"The flashing of
+their swords' rich marquetry."]
+
+[164] {187} It is to be observed, that every allusion to any thing or
+personage in the Old Testament, such as the Ark, or Cain, is equally the
+privilege of Mussulman and Jew: indeed, the former profess to be much
+better acquainted with the lives, true and fabulous, of the patriarchs,
+than is warranted by our own sacred writ; and not content with Adam,
+they have a biography of Pre-Adamites. Solomon is the monarch of all
+necromancy, and Moses a prophet inferior only to Christ and Mahomet.
+Zuleika is the Persian name of Potiphar's wife; and her amour with
+Joseph constitutes one of the finest poems in their language. It is,
+therefore, no violation of costume to put the names of Cain, or Noah,
+into the mouth of a Moslem.
+
+[_À propos_ of this note "for the ignorant," Byron writes to Murray
+(November 13, 1813), "Do you suppose that no one but the Galileans are
+acquainted with Adam, and Eve, and Cain, and Noah?--_Zuleika_ is the
+Persian _poetical name_ for Potiphar's wife;" and, again, November 14,
+"I don't care one lump of sugar for my _poetry;_ but for my _costume_,
+and my correctness on these points ... I will combat
+lustily."--_Letters_, 1898, ii. 282, 283.]
+
+[165] {188} [Karaji['c] (Vuk Stefanovi['c], born 1787), secretary to Kara
+George, published _Narodne Srpske Pjesme_, at Vienna, 1814, 1815. See,
+too, _Languages and Literature of the Slavic Nations_, by Talvi, New
+York, 1850, pp. 366-382; _Volkslieder der Serben_, von Talvi, Leipzig,
+1835, ii. 245, etc., and _Chants Populaires des Servics_, Recueillis par
+Wuk Stephanowitsch, et Traduits d'après Talvy, par Madame Élise Voïart,
+Paris, 1834, ii. 183, etc.]
+
+[166] Paswan Oglou, the rebel of Widdin; who, for the last years of his
+life, set the whole power of the Porte at defiance.
+
+[Passwan Oglou (1758-1807) [Passewend's, or the Watchman's son,
+according to Hobhouse] was born and died at Widdin. He first came into
+notice in 1788, in alliance with certain disbanded Turkish levies, named
+_Krdschalies_. "It was their pride to ride along on stately horses, with
+trappings of gold and silver, and bearing costly arms. In their train
+were female slaves, Giuvendi, in male attire, who not only served to
+amuse them in their hours of ease with singing and dancing, but also
+followed them to battle (as Kaled followed Lara, see _Lara_, Canto II.
+stanza xv., etc.), for the purpose of holding their horses when they
+fought." On one occasion he is reported to have addressed these "rebel
+hordes" much in the spirit of the "Corsair," "The booty be yours, and
+mine the glory." "After having for some time suffered a Pacha to be
+associated with him, he at length expelled his superior, and demanded
+'the three horse-tails' for himself." In 1798 the Porte despatched
+another army, but Passwan was completely victorious, and "at length the
+Porte resolved to make peace, and actually sent him the 'three
+horse-tails'" (i.e. made him commander-in-chief of the Janissaries at
+Widdin). (See _History of Servia_, by Leopold von Ranke, Bohn, 1853, pp.
+68-71. See, too, _Voyage dans l'Empire Othoman_, par G. A. Olivier, an.
+9 (1801), i. 108-125; and Madame Voïart's "Abrégé de l'histoire du
+royaume de Servie," prefixed to _Chants Populaires, etc._, Paris,
+1834.)]
+
+[gk]
+ _And how that death made known to me_
+ _Hath made me what thou now shalt see._--[MS.]
+
+[167] {189} "Horse-tail,"--the standard of a Pacha.
+
+[gl] _With venom blacker than his soul_.--[MS.]
+
+[168] Giaffir, Pacha of Argyro Castro, or Scutari, I am not sure which,
+was actually taken off by the Albanian Ali, in the manner described in
+the text. Ali Pacha, while I was in the country, married the daughter of
+his victim, some years after the event had taken place at a bath in
+Sophia or Adrianople. The poison was mixed in the cup of coffee, which
+is presented before the sherbet by the bath keeper, after dressing.
+
+[gm] {190}
+ _Nor, if his sullen spirit could,_
+ _Can I forgive a parent's blood_.--[MS.]
+
+[gn] {191} _Yet I must be all truth to thee_.--[MS.]
+
+[go] {192}
+ _To Haroun's care in idlesse left,_
+ _In spirit bound, of fame bereft_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[gp] {193}
+ _That slave who saw my spirit pining_
+ _Beneath Inaction's heavy yoke,_
+ _Compassionate his charge resigning_.--[MS.]
+
+[gq]
+ _Oh could my tongue to thee impart_
+ _That liberation of my heart_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[169] I must here shelter myself with the Psalmist--is it not David that
+makes the "Earth reel to and fro like a Drunkard"? If the Globe can be
+thus lively on seeing its Creator, a liberated captive can hardly feel
+less on a first view of his work.--[Note, MS. erased.]
+
+[170] The Turkish notions of almost all islands are confined to the
+Archipelago, the sea alluded to.
+
+[171] {194} Lambro Canzani, a Greek, famous for his efforts, in 1789-90,
+for the independence of his country. Abandoned by the Russians, he
+became a pirate, and the Archipelago was the scene of his enterprises.
+He is said to be still alive at Petersburgh. He and Riga are the two
+most celebrated of the Greek revolutionists.
+
+[For Lambros Katzones (Hobhouse, _Travels in Albania_, ii. 5, calls him
+Canziani), see Finlay's _Greece under Othoman ... Domination,_ 1856, pp.
+330-334. Finlay dwells on his piracies rather than his patriotism.]
+
+[172] {195} "Rayahs,"--all who pay the capitation tax, called the
+"Haratch."
+
+["This tax was levied on the whole male unbelieving population," except
+children under ten, old men, Christian and Jewish priests.--Finlay,
+_Greece under Ottoman ... Domination_, 1856, p. 26. See, too, the
+_Qur'ân_, cap. ix., "The Declaration of Immunity."]
+
+[173] This first of voyages is one of the few with which the Mussulmans
+profess much acquaintance.
+
+[174] The wandering life of the Arabs, Tartars, and Turkomans, will be
+found well detailed in any book of Eastern travels. That it possesses a
+charm peculiar to itself, cannot be denied. A young French renegado
+confessed to Châteaubriand, that he never found himself alone, galloping
+in the desert, without a sensation approaching to rapture which was
+indescribable.
+
+[175] [Inns, caravanserais. From _sar[=a]y_, a palace or inn.]
+
+[176] [The remaining seventy lines of stanza xx. were not included in
+the original MS., but were sent to the publisher in successive
+instalments while the poem was passing through the press.]
+
+[177] [In the first draft of a supplementary fragment, line 883 ran
+thus--
+
+ / _a fancied_ \
+_"and tints tomorrow with_ { } _ray_."
+ \ _an airy_ /
+
+A note was appended--
+
+ "Mr. M^y.^ Choose which of the 2 epithets 'fancied' or 'airy' may
+ be best--or if neither will do--tell me and I will dream another--
+
+ "Yours,
+
+ "B^n^"
+
+The epithet ("prophetic") which stands in the text was inserted in a
+revise dated December 3, 1813. Two other versions were also sent, that
+Gifford might select that which was "best, or rather _not worst_"--
+
+ / _gilds_ \
+"_And_ { } _the hope of morning with its ray_."
+ \ _tints_ /
+
+"_And gilds to-morrow's hope with heavenly ray_."
+
+(_Letters_, 1898, ii. 282.)
+
+On the same date, December 3rd, two additional lines were affixed to the
+quatrain (lines 886-889)--
+
+ _"Soft as the Mecca Muezzin's strains invite_
+ _Him who hath journeyed far to join the rite."_
+
+And in a later revise, as "a last alteration"--
+
+ _"Blest as the call which from Medina's dome_
+ _Invites devotion to her Prophet's tomb."_
+
+An erased version of this "last alteration" ran thus--
+
+ _"Blest as the Muezzin's strain from Mecca's dome_
+ _Which welcomes Faith to view her Prophet's tomb_."{A}
+
+{A} [It is probable that Byron, who did not trouble himself to
+distinguish between "lie" and "lay," and who, as the MS. of _English
+Bards, and Scotch Reviewers_ (see line 732, _Poetical Works_, 1898, i.
+355) reveals, pronounced "petit maître" _anglicé_ in four syllables,
+regarded "dome" (_vide supra_) as a true and exact rhyme to "tomb," but,
+with his wonted compliance, was persuaded to make yet another
+alteration.] ]
+
+[gr] {196} Of lines 886-889, two, if not three, variants were sent to
+the publisher--
+
+ (1) _Dear as the Melody of better days_
+ _That steals the trembling tear of speechless praise_--
+ _Sweet as his native song to Exile's ears_
+ _Shall sound each tone thy long-loved voice endears_.--
+ [December 2, 1813.]
+
+ (2) /_Dear_\ /_better_ \
+ { } _as the melody of_ { } _days_
+ \_Soft_/ \_youthful_/
+ / _a silent_ \
+ _That steals_ { } _tear of speechless praise_--
+ \_the trembling_/
+
+[178] {197} "Jannat-al-Aden," the perpetual abode, the Mussulman
+paradise. [See Sale's _Koran_, "Preliminary Discourse," sect. i.; and
+_Journal_, November 17, 1813, _Letters_, 1898, ii. 326.]
+
+[gs] _Wait on thy voice and bow at thy command_.--[MS.]
+
+[gt]
+ _Oh turn and mingle every thought with his,_
+ _And all our future days unite in this_.--[MS.]
+
+[179] ["You wanted some reflections, and I send you _per Selim_,
+eighteen lines in decent couplets, of a pensive, if not an _ethical_
+tendency.... Mr. Canning's approbation (_if_ he did approve) I need not
+say makes me proud."--Letter to Murray, November 23, 1813, _Letters_,
+1898, ii. 286.]
+
+[gu]
+ _Man I may lead but trust not--I may fall_
+ _By those now friends to me, yet foes to all_--
+ _In this they follow but the bent assigned_,
+ _By fatal Nature to our warring kind_.--[MS.]
+
+[gv] {198}
+ _Behold a wilderness and call it peace_,--[MS. erased.]
+ _Look round our earth and lo! where battles cease_,
+ _"Behold a Solitude and call it" peace_.--[MS.]
+ or,
+ _Mark even where Conquest's deeds of carnage cease_
+ _She leaves a solitude and calls it peace_.--[November 21, 1813].
+
+[For the final alteration to the present text, see letter to Murray of
+November 24, 1813.]
+
+[180] [Compare Tacitus, _Agricola_, cap. 30--
+
+ "Solitudinem faciun--pacem appellant."
+
+See letter to Murray, November 24, 1813, _Letters_, 1898, ii. 287.]
+
+[gw] _Power sways but by distrust--her sole source_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[gx] _Which Love to-night hath lent by swelling sail_.--[MS.]
+
+[181] {199} [Compare--
+
+ "Quam juvat immites ventos audire cubantem,
+ Et dominam tenero detinuisse sinu."
+ Tibullus, _Eleg_., Lib. I. i. 45, 46.]
+
+[gy] _Then if my lip once murmurs, it must be_.--[MS.]
+
+[182] [The omission of lines 938, 939 drew from Byron an admission
+(Letter to Murray, November 29, 1813) that "the passage is an imitation
+altogether from Medea in Ovid" (_Metamorph_., vii. 66-69)--
+
+ "My love possest, in Jason's bosom laid,
+ Let seas swell high;--I cannot be dismay'd
+ While I infold my husband in my arms:
+ Or should I fear, I should but fear his harms."
+ Englished by Sandys, 1632.]
+
+[gz] _This hour decides my doom or thy escape_.--[MS.]
+
+[183] {200} [Compare--
+
+ "That thought has more of hell than had the former.
+ Another, and another, and another!"
+ _The Revenge_, by Edward Young, act iv.
+ (_Modern British Drama_, 1811, ii. 17).]
+
+[ha] {202} _Or grazed by wounds he scorned to feel_.--[MS.]
+
+[hb] {203} Three MS. variants of these lines were rejected in turn
+before the text was finally adopted--
+
+ (1) {_Ah! wherefore did he turn to look_
+ {_I know not why he turned to look_
+ _Since fatal was the gaze he took?_
+ _So far escaped from death or chain_,
+ _To search for her and search in vain:_
+ _Sad proof in peril and in pain_
+ _How late will Lover's hope remain._
+
+ (2) _Thus far escaped from death or chain_
+ _Ah! wherefore did he turn to look?_
+ _For her his eye must seek in vain,_
+ _Since fatal was the gaze he took._
+ _Sad proof, etc_.--
+
+ (3) _Ah! wherefore did he turn to look_
+ _So far escaped from death or chain?_
+ _Since fatal was the gaze he took_
+ _For her his eye but sought in vain,_
+ _Sad proof, etc_.--
+
+A fourth variant of lines 1046, 1047 was inserted in a revise dated
+November 16--
+
+ _That glance he paused to send again_
+ _To her for whom he dies in vain_.
+
+[hc] {204} _O'er which their talons yet delay_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[hd] {205}
+ _And that changed hand whose only life_
+ _Is motion-seems to menace strife_.--[MS.]
+
+[184] ["While the _Salsette_ lay off the Dardanelles, Lord Byron saw the
+body of a man who had been executed by being cast into the sea, floating
+on the stream, moving to and fro with the tumbling of the water, which
+gave to his arms the effect of scaring away several sea-fowl that were
+hovering to devour. This incident he has strikingly depicted in the
+_Bride of Abydos."--Life of Lord Byron_, by John Galt, 1830, p. 144.]
+
+[185] A turban is carved in stone above the graves of _men_ only.
+
+[186] The death-song of the Turkish women. The "silent slaves" are the
+men, whose notions of decorum forbid complaint in _public_.
+
+[he] {206} _The Koran-chapter chaunts thy fate_.--[MS.]
+
+[187] [At a Turkish funeral, after the interment has taken place, the
+Imâm "assis sur les genoux à côté de la tombe," offers the prayer
+_Telkin_, and at the conclusion of the prayer recites the _Fathah_, or
+"opening chapter" of the Korân. ("In the name of the merciful and
+compassionate God. Praise belongs to God, the Lord of the worlds, the
+Merciful, the Compassionate, the Ruler of the day of judgment. Thee we
+serve, and Thee we ask for aid. Guide us in the right path, the path of
+those Thou art gracious to; not of those Thou art wroth with; nor of
+those who err."--_The Qur'ân_, p. 1, translated by E. H. Palmer, Oxford,
+1880): _Tableau Générale de l'Empire Ottoman_, par Mouradja D'Ohsson,
+Paris, 1787, i. 235-248. Writing to Murray, November 14, 1813, Byron
+instances the funeral (in the _Bride of Abydos_) as proof of his
+correctness with regard to local colouring.--_Letters_, 1898, ii. 283.]
+
+[188] {207} ["I one evening witnessed a funeral in the vast cemetery of
+Scutari. An old man, with a venerable beard, threw himself by the side
+of the narrow grave, and strewing the earth on his head, cried aloud,
+'He was my son! my only son!'"--_Constantinople in 1828_, by Charles
+Macfarlane, 1829, p. 233, note.]
+
+[hf] _She whom thy Sultan had been fain to wed_.--[MS.]
+
+[189] ["The body of a Moslemin is ordered to be carried to the grave in
+haste, with hurried steps."--_Ibid._, p. 233, note.]
+
+[190] "I came to the place of my birth, and cried, 'The friends of my
+Youth, where are they?' and an Echo answered, 'Where are they?'"--_From
+an Arabic MS._ The above quotation (from which the idea in the text is
+taken) must be already familiar to every reader: it is given in the
+second annotation, p. 67, of _The Pleasures of Memory_ [note to Part I.
+line 103]; a poem so well known as to render a reference almost
+superfluous: but to whose pages all will be delighted to recur [_Poems_,
+by Samuel Rogers, 1852, i. 48].
+
+[hg] _There the sad cypress ever glooms_.--[MS.]
+
+[hh] {209} _But with the day blush of the sky_.--[MS.]
+
+[hi] _And some there be who could believe_.--[MS.]
+
+[191]
+ "And airy tongues that _syllable_ men's names."
+ Milton, _Comus_, line 208.
+
+For a belief that the souls of the dead inhabit the form of birds, we
+need not travel to the East. Lord Lyttleton's ghost story, the belief of
+the Duchess of Kendal, that George I. flew into her window in the shape
+of a raven (see _Orford's Reminiscences, Lord Orford's Works_, 1798, iv.
+283), and many other instances, bring this superstition nearer home. The
+most singular was the whim of a Worcester lady, who, believing her
+daughter to exist in the shape of a singing bird, literally furnished
+her pew in the cathedral with cages full of the kind; and as she was
+rich, and a benefactress in beautifying the church, no objection was
+made to her harmless folly. For this anecdote, see _Orford's Letters_.
+
+["But here (at Gloucester) is a _modernity_, which beats all antiquities
+for curiosity. Just by the high altar is a small pew hung with green
+damask, with curtains of the same; a small corner-cupboard, painted,
+carved, and gilt, for books, in one corner, and two troughs of a
+bird-cage, with seeds and water. If any mayoress on earth was small
+enough to inclose herself in this tabernacle, or abstemious enough to
+feed on rape and canary, I should have sworn that it was the shrine of
+the queen of the aldermen. It belongs to a Mrs. Cotton, who, having lost
+a favourite daughter, is convinced her soul is transmigrated into a
+robin redbreast, for which reason she passes her life in making an
+aviary of the cathedral of Gloucester."--Letter to Richard Bentley,
+September, 1753 (_Lord Orford's Works_, 1798, v. 279).]
+
+[192] {210} [According to J. B. Le Chevalier (_Voyage de La Propontide,
+etc._, an. viii. (1800), p. 17), the Turkish name for a small bay which
+formed the ancient port of Sestos, is _Ak-Bachi-Liman_ (Port de la Tête
+blanche).]
+
+[hj]
+ _And in its stead that mourning flower_
+ _Hath flourished--flourisheth this hour,_
+ _Alone and coldly pure and pale_
+ _As the young cheek that saddens to the tale_.
+ _And withers not, though branch and leaf_
+ _Are stamped with an eternal grief_.--[MS.]
+
+ An earlier version of the final text reads--
+
+ _As weeping Childhood's cheek at Sorrow's tale!_
+
+[193] ["_The Bride_, such as it is is my first _entire_ composition of
+any length (except the Satire, and be damned to it), for _The Giaour_ is
+but a string of passages, and _Childe Harold_ is, and I rather think
+always will be, unconcluded" (Letter to Murray, November 29, 1813). It
+(the _Bride_) "was published on Thursday the second of December; but how
+it is liked or disliked, I know not. Whether it succeeds or not is no
+fault of the public, against whom I can have no complaint. But I am much
+more indebted to the tale than I can ever be to the most partial reader;
+as it wrung my thoughts from reality to imagination--from selfish
+regrets to vivid recollections--and recalled me to a country replete
+with the _brightest_ and _darkest_, but always most _lively_ colours of
+my memory" (_Journal_, December 5, 1813, _Letters_, 1898, ii. 291,
+361).]
+
+
+
+
+ THE CORSAIR:
+
+ A TALE.
+
+
+ ----"I suoi pensieri in lui dormir non ponno."
+
+Tasso, _Gerusalemme Liberata_, Canto X. [stanza lxxviii. line 8].
+
+
+
+
+ INTRODUCTION TO _THE CORSAIR_.
+
+
+A seventh edition of the _Giaour_, including the final additions, and
+the first edition of the _Bride of Abydos_, were published on the
+twenty-ninth of November, 1813. In less than three weeks (December 18)
+Byron began the _Corsair_, and completed the fair copy of the first
+draft by the last day of the year. The _Corsair_ in all but its final
+shape, together with the sixth edition of the _Bride of Abydos_, the
+seventh of _Childe Harold_, and the ninth of the _Giaour_, was issued on
+the first of February, 1814.
+
+A letter from John Murray to Lord Byron, dated February 3, 1814 (_Memoir
+of John Murray_, 1891, i. 223), presents a vivid picture of a great
+literary triumph--
+
+ "My Lord,--I have been unwilling to write until I had something to
+ say.... I am most happy to tell you that your last poem _is_--what
+ Mr. Southey's is _called_--a _Carmen Triumphale_. Never in my
+ recollection has any work ... excited such a ferment ... I sold on
+ the day of publication--a thing perfectly unprecedented--10,000
+ copies.... Mr. Moore says it is masterly--a wonderful performance.
+ Mr. Hammond, Mr. Heber, D'Israeli, every one who comes ... declare
+ their unlimited approbation. Mr. Ward was here with Mr. Gifford
+ yesterday, and mingled his admiration with the rest ... and Gifford
+ did, what I never knew him do before--he repeated several stanzas
+ from memory, particularly the closing stanza--
+
+ "'His death yet dubious, deeds too widely known.'
+
+ "I have the highest encomiums in letters from Croker and Mr. Hay;
+ but I rest most upon the warm feeling it has created in Gifford's
+ critic heart.... You have no notion of the sensation which the
+ publication has occasioned; and my only regret is that you were not
+ present to witness it."
+
+For some time before and after the poem appeared, Byron was, as he told
+Leigh Hunt (February 9, 1814; _Letters_, 1899, iii. 27), "snow-bound and
+thaw-swamped in 'the valley of the shadow' of Newstead Abbey," and it
+was not till he had returned to town that he resumed his journal, and
+bethought him of placing on record some dark sayings with regard to the
+story of the _Corsair_ and the personality of Conrad. Under date
+February 18, 1814, he writes--
+
+ "The _Corsair_ has been conceived, written, published, etc., since
+ I last took up this journal [?last day but one]. They tell me it
+ has great success; it was written _con amore_ [i.e. during the
+ reign of Lady Frances Wedderburn Webster], and much from
+ _existence_."
+
+And again, _Journal_, March 10 (_Letters_, 1898, ii. 399),
+
+ "He [Hobhouse] told me an odd report,--that _I_ am the actual
+ Conrad, the veritable Corsair, and that part of my travels are
+ supposed to have passed in privacy [_sic;_?piracy]. Um! people
+ sometimes hit near the truth; but never the whole truth. H. don't
+ know what I was about the year after he left the Levant; nor does
+ any one--nor--nor--nor--however, it is a lie--but, 'I doubt the
+ equivocation of the fiend that lies like truth.'"
+
+Very little weight can be attached to these "I could an I would"
+pronouncements, deliberately framed to provoke curiosity, and destined,
+no doubt, sooner or later to see the light; but the fact remains that
+Conrad is not a mere presentation of Byron in a fresh disguise, or "The
+Pirate's Tale" altogether a "painting of the imagination."
+
+That the _Corsair_ is founded upon fact is argued at some length by the
+author (an "English Gentleman in the Greek Military Service") of the
+_Life, Writings, Opinions, and Times of the R. H. George Gordon Noel
+Byron_, which was published in 1825. The point of the story (i.
+197-201), which need not be repeated at length, is that Byron, on
+leaving Constantinople and reaching the island of Zea (July, 1810),
+visited ["strolled about"] the islands of the Archipelago, in company
+with a Venetian gentleman who had turned buccaneer _malgré lui_, and
+whose history and adventures, amatory and piratical, prefigured and
+inspired the "gestes" of Conrad. The tale must be taken for what it is
+worth; but it is to be remarked that it affords a clue to Byron's
+mysterious entries in a journal which did not see the light till 1830,
+five years after the "English Gentleman" published his volumes of
+gossiping anecdote. It may, too, be noted that, although, in his
+correspondence of 1810, 1811, there is no mention of any tour among the
+"Isles of Greece," in a letter to Moore dated February 2, 1815
+(_Letters_, 1899, iii. 176), Byron recalls "the interesting white
+squalls and short seas of Archipelago memory."
+
+How far Byron may have drawn on personal experience for his picture of a
+pirate _chez lui_, it is impossible to say; but during the year 1809-11,
+when he was travelling in Greece, the exploits of Lambros Katzones and
+other Greek pirates sailing under the Russian flag must have been within
+the remembrance and on the lips of the islanders and the "patriots" of
+the mainland. The "Pirate's Island," from which "Ariadne's isle" (line
+444) was visible, may be intended for Paros or Anti-Paros.
+
+For the inception of Conrad (see Canto I. stanza ii.), the paradoxical
+hero, an assortment rather than an amalgam of incongruous
+characteristics, Byron may, perhaps, have been in some measure indebted
+to the description of Malefort, junior, in Massinger's _Unnatural
+Combat_, act i. sc. 2, line 20, sq.--
+
+ "I have sat with him in his cabin a day together,
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Sigh he did often, as if inward grief
+ And melancholy at that instant would
+ Choke up his vital spirits....
+ When from the maintop
+ A sail's descried, all thoughts that do concern
+ Himself laid by, no lion pinched with hunger
+ Rouses himself more fiercely from his den,
+ Then he comes on the deck; and then how wisely
+ He gives directions," etc.
+
+The _Corsair_, together with the _Bride of Abydos_, was reviewed by
+Jeffrey in the _Edinburgh Review_ of April, 1814, vol. xxiii. p. 198;
+and together with _Lara_, by George Agar Ellis in the _Quarterly Review_
+of July, 1814, vol. ii. p. 428.
+
+
+
+BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE ON _THE CORSAIR_.
+
+In comparison with the _Giaour_, the additions made to the _Corsair_
+whilst it was passing through the press were inconsiderable. The
+original MS., which numbers 1737 lines, is probably the fair copy of a
+number of loose sheets which have not been preserved. The erasures are
+few and far between, and the variations between the copy and the text
+are neither numerous nor important.
+
+In one of the latest revises stanza x. was added to the First Canto. The
+last four lines of stanza xi. first appeared in the Seventh Edition.
+
+The Second Canto suffered no alteration except the substitution of lines
+1131-1133 for two lines which were expunged.
+
+Larger additions were made to the Third Canto. Lines 1299-1375, or
+stanza v. (included in a revise dated January 6, 1814), stanzas xvii.
+and xxiii., numbering respectively 77, 32, and 16 lines, and the two
+last lines of stanza x., 127 lines in all, represent the difference
+between the text as it now stands and the original MS.
+
+In a note to Byron's _Poetical Works_, 1832, ix. 257, it is stated that
+the _Corsair_ was begun on the 18th and finished on the 31st of
+December, 1813. In the Introduction to the _Corsair_ prefixed to the
+Library Edition, the poem is said to have been composed in ten days, "at
+the rate of 200 lines a day." The first page of the MS. is dated "27th
+of December, 1813," and the last page "December 31, 1813, January 1,
+1814." It is probable that the composition of the first draft was begun
+on the 18th and finished on the 27th of December, and that the work of
+transcription occupied the last five days of the month. Stanza v. of
+Canto III. reached the publisher on the 6th, and stanzas xvii. and
+xxiii. on the 11th and 12th of January, 1814.
+
+The First Edition amounted to 1859 lines (the numeration, owing to the
+inclusion of broken lines, is given as 1863), and falls short of the
+existing text by the last four lines of stanza xi. It contains the first
+dedication to Moore, and numbers 100 pages. To the Second Edition, which
+numbers 108 pages, the following poems were appended:--
+
+_To a Lady Weeping_.
+
+_From the Turkish_.
+
+_Sonnet to Genevra_ ("Thine eyes' blue tenderness," etc.).
+
+_Sonnet to Genevra_ ("Thy cheek is pale with thought," etc.).
+
+_Inscription on the Monument of a Newfoundland Dog_.
+
+_Farewell_.
+
+These occasional poems were not appended to the Third Edition, which
+only numbered 100 pages; but they reappeared in the Fourth and
+subsequent editions.
+
+The Seventh Edition contained four additional lines (the last four of
+stanza xi.), and a note (unnumbered) to line 226, in defence of the
+_vraisemblance_ of the _Corsair's_ misanthropy. The Ninth Edition
+numbered 112 pages. The additional matter consists of a long note to the
+last line of the poem ("Linked with one virtue, and a thousand crimes")
+on the pirates of Barataria.
+
+Twenty-five thousand copies of the _Corsair_ were sold between January
+and March, 1814. An Eighth Edition of fifteen hundred copies was printed
+in March, and sold before the end of the year. A Ninth Edition of three
+thousand copies was printed in the beginning of 1815.
+
+
+
+TO THOMAS MOORE, ESQ.
+
+My dear Moore,
+
+I dedicate to you the last production with which I shall trespass on
+public patience, and your indulgence, for some years; and I own that I
+feel anxious to avail myself of this latest and only opportunity of
+adorning my pages with a name, consecrated by unshaken public principle,
+and the most undoubted and various talents. While Ireland ranks you
+among the firmest of her patriots; while you stand alone the first of
+her bards in her estimation, and Britain repeats and ratifies the
+decree, permit one, whose only regret, since our first acquaintance, has
+been the years he had lost before it commenced, to add the humble but
+sincere suffrage of friendship, to the voice of more than one nation. It
+will at least prove to you, that I have neither forgotten the
+gratification derived from your society, nor abandoned the prospect of
+its renewal, whenever your leisure or inclination allows you to atone to
+your friends for too long an absence. It is said among those friends, I
+trust truly, that you are engaged in the composition of a poem whose
+scene will be laid in the East; none can do those scenes so much
+justice. The wrongs of your own country,[194] the magnificent and fiery
+spirit of her sons, the beauty and feeling of her daughters, may there
+be found; and Collins, when he denominated his Oriental his Irish
+Eclogues, was not aware how true, at least, was a part of his parallel.
+Your imagination will create a warmer sun, and less clouded sky; but
+wildness, tenderness, and originality, are part of your national claim
+of oriental descent, to which you have already thus far proved your
+title more clearly than the most zealous of your country's antiquarians.
+
+May I add a few words on a subject on which all men are supposed to be
+fluent, and none agreeable?--Self. I have written much, and published
+more than enough to demand a longer silence than I now meditate; but,
+for some years to come, it is my intention to tempt no further the award
+of "Gods, men, nor columns." In the present composition I have attempted
+not the most difficult, but, perhaps, the best adapted measure to our
+language, the good old and now neglected heroic couplet. The stanza of
+Spenser is perhaps too slow and dignified for narrative; though, I
+confess, it is the measure most after my own heart; Scott alone,[195] of
+the present generation, has hitherto completely triumphed over the fatal
+facility of the octosyllabic verse; and this is not the least victory of
+his fertile and mighty genius: in blank verse, Milton, Thomson, and our
+dramatists, are the beacons that shine along the deep, but warn us from
+the rough and barren rock on which they are kindled. The heroic couplet
+is not the most popular measure certainly; but as I did not deviate
+into the other from a wish to flatter what is called public opinion, I
+shall quit it without further apology, and take my chance once more with
+that versification, in which I have hitherto published nothing but
+compositions whose former circulation is part of my present, and will be
+of my future regret.
+
+With regard to my story, and stories in general, I should have been glad
+to have rendered my personages more perfect and amiable, if possible,
+inasmuch as I have been sometimes criticised, and considered no less
+responsible for their deeds and qualities than if all had been personal.
+Be it so--if I have deviated into the gloomy vanity of "drawing from
+self," the pictures are probably like, since they are unfavourable: and
+if not, those who know me are undeceived, and those who do not, I have
+little interest in undeceiving. I have no particular desire that any but
+my acquaintance should think the author better than the beings of his
+imagining; but I cannot help a little surprise, and perhaps amusement,
+at some odd critical exceptions in the present instance, when I see
+several bards (far more deserving, I allow) in very reputable plight,
+and quite exempted from all participation in the faults of those heroes,
+who, nevertheless, might be found with little more morality than _The
+Giaour_, and perhaps--but no--I must admit Childe Harold to be a very
+repulsive personage; and as to his identity, those who like it must give
+him whatever "alias" they please.[196]
+
+If, however, it were worth while to remove the impression, it might be
+of some service to me, that the man who is alike the delight of his
+readers and his friends, the poet of all circles, and the idol of his
+own, permits me here and elsewhere to subscribe myself,
+
+ Most truly,
+ And affectionately,
+ His obedient servant,
+ BYRON.
+_January_ 2, 1814.
+
+
+
+
+ THE CORSAIR.[197]
+
+
+
+ CANTO THE FIRST.
+
+ "----nessun maggior dolore,
+ Che ricordarsi del tempo felice
+ Nella miseria,----"
+ Dante, _Inferno_, v. 121.
+
+ I.
+
+ "O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea,
+ Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free,
+ Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam,
+ Survey our empire, and behold our home![198]
+ These are our realms, no limits to their sway--
+ Our flag the sceptre all who meet obey.
+ Ours the wild life in tumult still to range
+ From toil to rest, and joy in every change.
+ Oh, who can tell? not thou, luxurious slave!
+ Whose soul would sicken o'er the heaving wave; 10
+ Not thou, vain lord of Wantonness and Ease!
+ Whom Slumber soothes not--Pleasure cannot please--
+ Oh, who can tell, save he whose heart hath tried,
+ And danced in triumph o'er the waters wide,
+ The exulting sense--the pulse's maddening play,
+ That thrills the wanderer of that trackless way?
+ That for itself can woo the approaching fight,
+ And turn what some deem danger to delight;
+ That seeks what cravens shun with more than zeal,
+ And where the feebler faint can only feel-- 20
+ Feel--to the rising bosom's inmost core,
+ Its hope awaken and its spirit soar?
+ No dread of Death--if with us die our foes--
+ Save that it seems even duller than repose;
+ Come when it will--we snatch the life of Life--
+ When lost--what recks it by disease or strife?
+ Let him who crawls, enamoured of decay,
+ Cling to his couch, and sicken years away;[hk]
+ Heave his thick breath, and shake his palsied head;
+ Ours the fresh turf, and not the feverish bed,-- 30
+ While gasp by gasp he falters forth his soul,
+ Ours with one pang--one bound--escapes control.
+ His corse may boast its urn and narrow cave,
+ And they who loathed his life may gild his grave:
+ Ours are the tears, though few, sincerely shed,
+ When Ocean shrouds and sepulchres our dead.
+ For us, even banquets fond regret supply
+ In the red cup that crowns our memory;
+ And the brief epitaph in Danger's day,
+ When those who win at length divide the prey, 40
+ And cry, Remembrance saddening o'er each brow,
+ How had the brave who fell exulted _now_!"
+
+ II.
+
+ Such were the notes that from the Pirate's isle
+ Around the kindling watch-fire rang the while:
+ Such were the sounds that thrilled the rocks along,
+ And unto ears as rugged seemed a song!
+ In scattered groups upon the golden sand,
+ They game--carouse--converse--or whet the brand;
+ Select the arms--to each his blade assign,
+ And careless eye the blood that dims its shine; 50
+ Repair the boat, replace the helm or oar,
+ While others straggling muse along the shore;
+ For the wild bird the busy springes set,
+ Or spread beneath the sun the dripping net:
+ Gaze where some distant sail a speck supplies,
+ With all the thirsting eye of Enterprise;
+ Tell o'er the tales of many a night of toil,
+ And marvel where they next shall seize a spoil:
+ No matter where--their chief's allotment this;
+ Theirs to believe no prey nor plan amiss. 60
+ But who that Chief? his name on every shore
+ Is famed and feared--they ask and know no more
+ With these he mingles not but to command;
+ Few are his words, but keen his eye and hand.
+ Ne'er seasons he with mirth their jovial mess,
+ But they forgive his silence for success.
+ Ne'er for his lip the purpling cup they fill,
+ That goblet passes him untasted still--
+ And for his fare--the rudest of his crew
+ Would that, in turn, have passed untasted too; 70
+ Earth's coarsest bread, the garden's homeliest roots,
+ And scarce the summer luxury of fruits,
+ His short repast in humbleness supply
+ With all a hermit's board would scarce deny.
+ But while he shuns the grosser joys of sense,
+ His mind seems nourished by that abstinence.
+ "Steer to that shore!"--they sail. "Do this!"--'tis done:
+ "Now form and follow me!"--the spoil is won.
+ Thus prompt his accents and his actions still,
+ And all obey and few inquire his will; 80
+ To such, brief answer and contemptuous eye
+ Convey reproof, nor further deign reply.
+
+ III.
+
+ "A sail!--a sail!"--a promised prize to Hope!
+ Her nation--flag--how speaks the telescope?[hl]
+ No prize, alas! but yet a welcome sail:
+ The blood-red signal glitters in the gale.
+ Yes--she is ours--a home-returning bark--
+ Blow fair, thou breeze!--she anchors ere the dark.
+ Already doubled is the cape--our bay
+ Receives that prow which proudly spurns the spray. 90
+ How gloriously her gallant course she goes!
+ Her white wings flying--never from her foes--
+ She walks the waters like a thing of Life![199]
+ And seems to dare the elements to strife.
+ Who would not brave the battle-fire, the wreck,
+ To move the monarch of her peopled deck!
+
+ IV.
+
+ Hoarse o'er her side the rustling cable rings:
+ The sails are furled; and anchoring round she swings;
+ And gathering loiterers on the land discern
+ Her boat descending from the latticed stern. 100
+ 'Tis manned--the oars keep concert to the strand,
+ Till grates her keel upon the shallow sand.[hm]
+ Hail to the welcome shout!--the friendly speech!
+ When hand grasps hand uniting on the beach;
+ The smile, the question, and the quick reply,
+ And the Heart's promise of festivity!
+
+ V.
+
+ The tidings spread, and gathering grows the crowd:
+ The hum of voices, and the laughter loud,
+ And Woman's gentler anxious tone is heard--
+ Friends'--husbands'--lovers' names in each dear word: 110
+ "Oh! are they safe? we ask not of success--
+ But shall we see them? will their accents bless?
+ From where the battle roars, the billows chafe,
+ They doubtless boldly did--but who are safe?
+ Here let them haste to gladden and surprise,
+ And kiss the doubt from these delighted eyes!"
+
+ VI.
+
+ "Where is our Chief? for him we bear report--
+ And doubt that joy--which hails our coming--short;
+ Yet thus sincere--'tis cheering, though so brief;
+ But, Juan! instant guide us to our Chief: 120
+ Our greeting paid, we'll feast on our return,
+ And all shall hear what each may wish to learn."
+ Ascending slowly by the rock-hewn way,
+ To where his watch-tower beetles o'er the bay,
+ By bushy brake, the wild flowers blossoming,
+ And freshness breathing from each silver spring,
+ Whose scattered streams from granite basins burst,
+ Leap into life, and sparkling woo your thirst;
+ From crag to cliff they mount--Near yonder cave,
+ What lonely straggler looks along the wave? 130
+ In pensive posture leaning on the brand,
+ Not oft a resting-staff to that red hand?
+ "'Tis he--'tis Conrad--here--as wont--alone;
+ On--Juan!--on--and make our purpose known.
+ The bark he views--and tell him we would greet
+ His ear with tidings he must quickly meet:
+ We dare not yet approach--thou know'st his mood,
+ When strange or uninvited steps intrude."
+
+ VII.
+
+ Him Juan sought, and told of their intent;--
+ He spake not, but a sign expressed assent, 140
+ These Juan calls--they come--to their salute
+ He bends him slightly, but his lips are mute.
+ "These letters, Chief, are from the Greek--the spy,
+ Who still proclaims our spoil or peril nigh:
+ Whate'er his tidings, we can well report,
+ Much that"--"Peace, peace!"--he cuts their prating short.
+ Wondering they turn, abashed, while each to each
+ Conjecture whispers in his muttering speech:
+ They watch his glance with many a stealing look,
+ To gather how that eye the tidings took; 150
+ But, this as if he guessed, with head aside,
+ Perchance from some emotion, doubt, or pride,
+ He read the scroll--"My tablets, Juan, hark--
+ Where is Gonsalvo?"
+
+ "In the anchored bark."
+ "There let him stay--to him this order bear--
+ Back to your duty--for my course prepare:
+ Myself this enterprise to-night will share."
+ "To-night, Lord Conrad?"
+ "Aye! at set of sun:
+ The breeze will freshen when the day is done.
+ My corslet--cloak--one hour and we are gone. 160
+ Sling on thy bugle--see that free from rust
+ My carbine-lock springs worthy of my trust;
+ Be the edge sharpened of my boarding-brand,
+ And give its guard more room to fit my hand.
+ This let the Armourer with speed dispose;
+ Last time, it more fatigued my arm than foes;
+ Mark that the signal-gun be duly fired,
+ To tell us when the hour of stay's expired."
+
+ VIII.
+
+ They make obeisance, and retire in haste,
+ Too soon to seek again the watery waste: 170
+ Yet they repine not--so that Conrad guides;
+ And who dare question aught that he decides?
+ That man of loneliness and mystery,
+ Scarce seen to smile, and seldom heard to sigh;
+ Whose name appals the fiercest of his crew,
+ And tints each swarthy cheek with sallower hue;
+ Still sways their souls with that commanding art
+ That dazzles, leads, yet chills the vulgar heart.
+ What is that spell, that thus his lawless train
+ Confess and envy--yet oppose in vain? 180
+ What should it be, that thus their faith can bind?
+ The power of Thought--the magic of the Mind!
+ Linked with success, assumed and kept with skill,
+ That moulds another's weakness to its will;
+ Wields with their hands, but, still to these unknown,
+ Makes even their mightiest deeds appear his own.
+ Such hath it been--shall be--beneath the Sun
+ The many still must labour for the one!
+ 'Tis Nature's doom--but let the wretch who toils,
+ Accuse not--hate not--_him_ who wears the spoils. 190
+ Oh! if he knew the weight of splendid chains,
+ How light the balance of his humbler pains!
+
+ IX.
+
+ Unlike the heroes of each ancient race,
+ Demons in act, but Gods at least in face,
+ In Conrad's form seems little to admire,
+ Though his dark eyebrow shades a glance of fire:
+ Robust but not Herculean--to the sight
+ No giant frame sets forth his common height;
+ Yet, in the whole, who paused to look again,
+ Saw more than marks the crowd of vulgar men; 200
+ They gaze and marvel how--and still confess
+ That thus it is, but why they cannot guess.
+ Sun-burnt his cheek, his forehead high and pale
+ The sable curls in wild profusion veil;
+ And oft perforce his rising lip reveals
+ The haughtier thought it curbs, but scarce conceals.[hn]
+ Though smooth his voice, and calm his general mien,
+ Still seems there something he would not have seen:
+ His features' deepening lines and varying hue
+ At times attracted, yet perplexed the view, 210
+ As if within that murkiness of mind
+ Worked feelings fearful, and yet undefined;
+ Such might it be--that none could truly tell--
+ Too close inquiry his stern glance would quell.
+ There breathe but few whose aspect might defy
+ The full encounter of his searching eye;
+ He had the skill, when Cunning's gaze would seek[ho]
+ To probe his heart and watch his changing cheek,
+ At once the observer's purpose to espy,
+ And on himself roll back his scrutiny, 220
+ Lest he to Conrad rather should betray
+ Some secret thought, than drag that Chief's to day.
+ There was a laughing Devil in his sneer,
+ That raised emotions both of rage and fear;
+ And where his frown of hatred darkly fell,
+ Hope withering fled--and Mercy sighed farewell![200]
+
+ X.[201]
+
+ Slight are the outward signs of evil thought,
+ Within--within--'twas there the spirit wrought!
+ Love shows all changes--Hate, Ambition, Guile,
+ Betray no further than the bitter smile; 230
+ The lip's least curl, the lightest paleness thrown
+ Along the governed aspect, speak alone
+ Of deeper passions; and to judge their mien,
+ He, who would see, must be himself unseen.
+ Then--with the hurried tread, the upward eye,
+ The clenchéd hand, the pause of agony,
+ That listens, starting, lest the step too near
+ Approach intrusive on that mood of fear:
+ Then--with each feature working from the heart,
+ With feelings, loosed to strengthen--not depart, 240
+ That rise--convulse--contend--that freeze or glow,[hp]
+ Flush in the cheek, or damp upon the brow;
+ Then--Stranger! if thou canst, and tremblest not,
+ Behold his soul--the rest that soothes his lot![hq]
+ Mark how that lone and blighted bosom sears
+ The scathing thought of execrated years!
+ Behold--but who hath seen, or e'er shall see,
+ Man as himself--the secret spirit free?
+
+ XI.
+
+ Yet was not Conrad thus by Nature sent
+ To lead the guilty--Guilt's worse instrument-- 250
+ His soul was changed, before his deeds had driven
+ Him forth to war with Man and forfeit Heaven.
+ Warped by the world in Disappointment's school,
+ In words too wise--in conduct _there_ a fool;
+ Too firm to yield, and far too proud to stoop,
+ Doomed by his very virtues for a dupe,
+ He cursed those virtues as the cause of ill,
+ And not the traitors who betrayed him still;
+ Nor deemed that gifts bestowed on better men
+ Had left him joy, and means to give again. 260
+ Feared--shunned--belied--ere Youth had lost her force,
+ He hated Man too much to feel remorse,
+ And thought the voice of Wrath a sacred call,
+ To pay the injuries of some on all.
+ He knew himself a villain--but he deemed
+ The rest no better than the thing he seemed;
+ And scorned the best as hypocrites who hid
+ Those deeds the bolder spirit plainly did.
+ He knew himself detested, but he knew
+ The hearts that loathed him, crouched and dreaded too. 270
+ Lone, wild, and strange, he stood alike exempt
+ From all affection and from all contempt:
+ His name could sadden, and his acts surprise;
+ But they that feared him dared not to despise:
+ Man spurns the worm, but pauses ere he wake
+ The slumbering venom of the folded snake:
+ The first may turn, but not avenge the blow;
+ The last expires, but leaves no living foe;
+ Fast to the doomed offender's form it clings,
+ And he may crush--not conquer--still it stings![202] 280
+
+ XII.
+
+ None are all evil--quickening round his heart,
+ One softer feeling would not yet depart;
+ Oft could he sneer at others as beguiled
+ By passions worthy of a fool or child;
+ Yet 'gainst that passion vainly still he strove,
+ And even in him it asks the name of Love!
+ Yes, it was love--unchangeable--unchanged,
+ Felt but for one from whom he never ranged;
+ Though fairest captives daily met his eye,
+ He shunned, nor sought, but coldly passed them by; 290
+ Though many a beauty drooped in prisoned bower,
+ None ever soothed his most unguarded hour,
+ Yes--it was Love--if thoughts of tenderness,
+ Tried in temptation, strengthened by distress,
+ Unmoved by absence, firm in every clime,
+ And yet--Oh more than all!--untired by Time;
+ Which nor defeated hope, nor baffled wile,
+ Could render sullen were She near to smile,
+ Nor rage could fire, nor sickness fret to vent
+ On her one murmur of his discontent; 300
+ Which still would meet with joy, with calmness part,
+ Lest that his look of grief should reach her heart;
+ Which nought removed, nor menaced to remove--
+ If there be Love in mortals--this was Love!
+ He was a villain--aye, reproaches shower
+ On him--but not the Passion, nor its power,
+ Which only proved--all other virtues gone--
+ Not Guilt itself could quench this loveliest one![hr]
+
+ XIII.
+
+ He paused a moment--till his hastening men
+ Passed the first winding downward to the glen. 310
+ "Strange tidings!--many a peril have I passed,
+ Nor know I why this next appears the last!
+ Yet so my heart forebodes, but must not fear,
+ Nor shall my followers find me falter here.
+ 'Tis rash to meet--but surer death to wait
+ Till here they hunt us to undoubted fate;
+ And, if my plan but hold, and Fortune smile,
+ We'll furnish mourners for our funeral pile.
+ Aye, let them slumber--peaceful be their dreams!
+ Morn ne'er awoke them with such brilliant beams 320
+ As kindle high to-night (but blow, thou breeze!)
+ To warm these slow avengers of the seas.
+ Now to Medora--Oh! my sinking heart,[hs]
+ Long may her own be lighter than thou art!
+ Yet was I brave--mean boast where all are brave!
+ Ev'n insects sting for aught they seek to save.
+ This common courage which with brutes we share,
+ That owes its deadliest efforts to Despair,
+ Small merit claims--but 'twas my nobler hope
+ To teach my few with numbers still to cope; 330
+ Long have I led them--not to vainly bleed:
+ No medium now--we perish or succeed!
+ So let it be--it irks not me to die;
+ But thus to urge them whence they cannot fly.
+ My lot hath long had little of my care,
+ But chafes my pride thus baffled in the snare:
+ Is this my skill? my craft? to set at last
+ Hope, Power and Life upon a single cast?
+ Oh, Fate!--accuse thy folly--not thy fate;
+ She may redeem thee still--nor yet too late." 340
+
+ XIV.
+
+ Thus with himself communion held he, till
+ He reached the summit of his tower-crowned hill:
+ There at the portal paused--for wild and soft
+ He heard those accents never heard too oft!
+ Through the high lattice far yet sweet they rung,
+ And these the notes his Bird of Beauty sung:
+
+ 1.
+
+ "Deep in my soul that tender secret dwells,
+ Lonely and lost to light for evermore,
+ Save when to thine my heart responsive swells,
+ Then trembles into silence as before. 350
+
+ 2.
+
+ "There, in its centre, a sepulchral lamp
+ Burns the slow flame, eternal--but unseen;
+ Which not the darkness of Despair can damp,
+ Though vain its ray as it had never been.
+
+ 3.
+
+ "Remember me--Oh! pass not thou my grave
+ Without one thought whose relics there recline:
+ The only pang my bosom dare not brave
+ Must be to find forgetfulness in thine.
+
+ 4.
+
+ "My fondest--faintest--latest accents hear--[ht]
+ Grief for the dead not Virtue can reprove; 360
+ Then give me all I ever asked--a tear,[203]
+ The first--last--sole reward of so much love!"
+
+ He passed the portal, crossed the corridor,
+ And reached the chamber as the strain gave o'er:
+ "My own Medora! sure thy song is sad--"
+
+ "In Conrad's absence would'st thou have it glad?
+ Without thine ear to listen to my lay,
+ Still must my song my thoughts, my soul betray:
+ Still must each accent to my bosom suit,
+ My heart unhushed--although my lips were mute! 370
+ Oh! many a night on this lone couch reclined,
+ My dreaming fear with storms hath winged the wind,
+ And deemed the breath that faintly fanned thy sail
+ The murmuring prelude of the ruder gale;
+ Though soft--it seemed the low prophetic dirge,
+ That mourned thee floating on the savage surge:
+ Still would I rise to rouse the beacon fire,
+ Lest spies less true should let the blaze expire;
+ And many a restless hour outwatched each star,
+ And morning came--and still thou wert afar. 380
+ Oh! how the chill blast on my bosom blew,
+ And day broke dreary on my troubled view,
+ And still I gazed and gazed--and not a prow
+ Was granted to my tears--my truth--my vow!
+ At length--'twas noon--I hailed and blest the mast
+ That met my sight--it neared--Alas! it passed!
+ Another came--Oh God! 'twas thine at last!
+ Would that those days were over! wilt thou ne'er,
+ My Conrad! learn the joys of peace to share?
+ Sure thou hast more than wealth, and many a home 390
+ As bright as this invites us not to roam:
+ Thou know'st it is not peril that I fear,
+ I only tremble when thou art not here;
+ Then not for mine, but that far dearer life,
+ Which flies from love and languishes for strife--
+ How strange that heart, to me so tender still,
+ Should war with Nature and its better will!"
+
+ "Yea, strange indeed--that heart hath long been changed;
+ Worm-like 'twas trampled--adder-like avenged--
+ Without one hope on earth beyond thy love, 400
+ And scarce a glimpse of mercy from above.
+ Yet the same feeling which thou dost condemn,
+ My very love to thee is hate to them,
+ So closely mingling here, that disentwined,
+ I cease to love thee when I love Mankind:
+ Yet dread not this--the proof of all the past
+ Assures the future that my love will last;
+ But--Oh, Medora! nerve thy gentler heart;
+ This hour again--but not for long--we part."
+
+ "This hour we part!--my heart foreboded this: 410
+ Thus ever fade my fairy dreams of bliss.
+ This hour--it cannot be--this hour away!
+ Yon bark hath hardly anchored in the bay:
+ Her consort still is absent, and her crew
+ Have need of rest before they toil anew;
+ My Love! thou mock'st my weakness; and wouldst steel
+ My breast before the time when it must feel;
+ But trifle now no more with my distress,
+ Such mirth hath less of play than bitterness.
+ Be silent, Conrad!--dearest! come and share 420
+ The feast these hands delighted to prepare;
+ Light toil! to cull and dress thy frugal fare!
+ See, I have plucked the fruit that promised best,
+ And where not sure, perplexed, but pleased, I guessed
+ At such as seemed the fairest; thrice the hill
+ My steps have wound to try the coolest rill;
+ Yes! thy Sherbet to-night will sweetly flow,
+ See how it sparkles in its vase of snow!
+ The grapes' gay juice thy bosom never cheers;
+ Thou more than Moslem when the cup appears: 430
+ Think not I mean to chide--for I rejoice
+ What others deem a penance is thy choice.
+ But come, the board is spread; our silver lamp
+ Is trimmed, and heeds not the Sirocco's damp:
+ Then shall my handmaids while the time along,
+ And join with me the dance, or wake the song;
+ Or my guitar, which still thou lov'st to hear,
+ Shall soothe or lull--or, should it vex thine ear,
+ We'll turn the tale, by Ariosto told,
+ Of fair Olympia loved and left of old.[204] 440
+ Why, thou wert worse than he who broke his vow
+ To that lost damsel, should thou leave me _now_--
+ Or even that traitor chief--I've seen thee smile,
+ When the clear sky showed Ariadne's Isle,
+ Which I have pointed from these cliffs the while:
+ And thus half sportive--half in fear--I said,
+ Lest Time should raise that doubt to more than dread,
+ Thus Conrad, too, will quit me for the main:
+ And he deceived me--for--he came again!"
+
+ "Again, again--and oft again--my Love! 450
+ If there be life below, and hope above,
+ He will return--but now, the moments bring
+ The time of parting with redoubled wing:
+ The why, the where--what boots it now to tell?
+ Since all must end in that wild word--Farewell!
+ Yet would I fain--did time allow--disclose--
+ Fear not--these are no formidable foes!
+ And here shall watch a more than wonted guard,
+ For sudden siege and long defence prepared:
+ Nor be thou lonely, though thy Lord's away, 460
+ Our matrons and thy handmaids with thee stay;
+ And this thy comfort--that, when next we meet,
+ Security shall make repose more sweet.
+ List!--'tis the bugle!"--Juan shrilly blew--
+ "One kiss--one more--another--Oh! Adieu!"
+ She rose--she sprung--she clung to his embrace,
+ Till his heart heaved beneath her hidden face:
+ He dared not raise to his that deep-blue eye,
+ Which downcast drooped in tearless agony.
+ Her long fair hair lay floating o'er his arms, 470
+ In all the wildness of dishevelled charms;
+ Scarce beat that bosom where his image dwelt
+ So full--_that_ feeling seem'd almost unfelt!
+ Hark--peals the thunder of the signal-gun!
+ It told 'twas sunset, and he cursed that sun.
+ Again--again--that form he madly pressed,
+ Which mutely clasped, imploringly caressed![hu]
+ And tottering to the couch his bride he bore,
+ One moment gazed--as if to gaze no more;
+ Felt that for him Earth held but her alone, 480
+ Kissed her cold forehead--turned--is Conrad gone?
+
+ XV.
+
+ "And is he gone?"--on sudden solitude
+ How oft that fearful question will intrude!
+ "'Twas but an instant past, and here he stood!
+ And now"--without the portal's porch she rushed,
+ And then at length her tears in freedom gushed;
+ Big, bright, and fast, unknown to her they fell;
+ But still her lips refused to send--"Farewell!"
+ For in that word--that fatal word--howe'er
+ We promise--hope--believe--there breathes Despair. 490
+ O'er every feature of that still, pale face,
+ Had Sorrow fixed what Time can ne'er erase:
+ The tender blue of that large loving eye
+ Grew frozen with its gaze on vacancy,
+ Till--Oh, how far!--it caught a glimpse of him,
+ And then it flowed, and phrensied seemed to swim
+ Through those long, dark, and glistening lashes dewed
+ With drops of sadness oft to be renewed.
+ "He's gone!"--against her heart that hand is driven,
+ Convulsed and quick--then gently raised to Heaven: 500
+ She looked and saw the heaving of the main:
+ The white sail set--she dared not look again;
+ But turned with sickening soul within the gate--
+ "It is no dream--and I am desolate!"
+
+ XVI.
+
+ From crag to crag descending, swiftly sped
+ Stern Conrad down, nor once he turned his head;
+ But shrunk whene'er the windings of his way
+ Forced on his eye what he would not survey,
+ His lone, but lovely dwelling on the steep,
+ That hailed him first when homeward from the deep: 510
+ And she--the dim and melancholy Star,
+ Whose ray of Beauty reached him from afar,
+ On her he must not gaze, he must not think--
+ There he might rest--but on Destruction's brink:
+ Yet once almost he stopped--and nearly gave
+ His fate to chance, his projects to the wave:
+ But no--it must not be--a worthy chief
+ May melt, but not betray to Woman's grief.
+ He sees his bark, he notes how fair the wind,
+ And sternly gathers all his might of mind: 520
+ Again he hurries on--and as he hears
+ The clang of tumult vibrate on his ears,
+ The busy sounds, the bustle of the shore,
+ The shout, the signal, and the dashing oar;
+ As marks his eye the seaboy on the mast,
+ The anchors rise, the sails unfurling fast,
+ The waving kerchiefs of the crowd that urge
+ That mute Adieu to those who stem the surge;
+ And more than all, his blood-red flag aloft,
+ He marvelled how his heart could seem so soft. 530
+ Fire in his glance, and wildness in his breast,
+ He feels of all his former self possest;
+ He bounds--he flies--until his footsteps reach
+ The verge where ends the cliff, begins the beach,
+ There checks his speed; but pauses less to breathe
+ The breezy freshness of the deep beneath,
+ Than there his wonted statelier step renew;
+ Nor rush, disturbed by haste, to vulgar view:
+ For well had Conrad learned to curb the crowd,
+ By arts that veil, and oft preserve the proud; 540
+ His was the lofty port, the distant mien,
+ That seems to shun the sight--and awes if seen:
+ The solemn aspect, and the high-born eye,
+ That checks low mirth, but lacks not courtesy;
+ All these he wielded to command assent:
+ But where he wished to win, so well unbent,
+ That Kindness cancelled fear in those who heard,
+ And others' gifts showed mean beside his word,
+ When echoed to the heart as from his own
+ His deep yet tender melody of tone: 550
+ But such was foreign to his wonted mood,
+ He cared not what he softened, but subdued;
+ The evil passions of his youth had made
+ Him value less who loved--than what obeyed.
+
+ XVII.
+
+ Around him mustering ranged his ready guard.
+ Before him Juan stands--"Are all prepared?"
+ "They are--nay more--embarked: the latest boat
+ Waits but my chief----"
+ "My sword, and my capote."
+ Soon firmly girded on, and lightly slung,
+ His belt and cloak were o'er his shoulders flung: 560
+ "Call Pedro here!" He comes--and Conrad bends,
+ With all the courtesy he deigned his friends;
+ "Receive these tablets, and peruse with care,
+ Words of high trust and truth are graven there;
+ Double the guard, and when Anselmo's bark
+ Arrives, let him alike these orders mark:
+ In three days (serve the breeze) the sun shall shine
+ On our return--till then all peace be thine!"
+ This said, his brother Pirate's hand he wrung,
+ Then to his boat with haughty gesture sprung. 570
+ Flashed the dipt oars, and sparkling with the stroke,
+ Around the waves' phosphoric[205] brightness broke;
+ They gain the vessel--on the deck he stands,--
+ Shrieks the shrill whistle, ply the busy hands--
+ He marks how well the ship her helm obeys,
+ How gallant all her crew, and deigns to praise.
+ His eyes of pride to young Gonsalvo turn--
+ Why doth he start, and inly seem to mourn?
+ Alas! those eyes beheld his rocky tower,
+ And live a moment o'er the parting hour; 580
+ She--his Medora--did she mark the prow?
+ Ah! never loved he half so much as now!
+ But much must yet be done ere dawn of day--
+ Again he mans himself and turns away;
+ Down to the cabin with Gonsalvo bends,
+ And there unfolds his plan--his means, and ends;
+ Before them burns the lamp, and spreads the chart,
+ And all that speaks and aids the naval art;
+ They to the midnight watch protract debate;
+ To anxious eyes what hour is ever late? 590
+ Meantime, the steady breeze serenely blew,
+ And fast and falcon-like the vessel flew;
+ Passed the high headlands of each clustering isle,
+ To gain their port--long--long ere morning smile:
+ And soon the night-glass through the narrow bay
+ Discovers where the Pacha's galleys lay.
+ Count they each sail, and mark how there supine
+ The lights in vain o'er heedless Moslem shine.
+ Secure, unnoted, Conrad's prow passed by,
+ And anchored where his ambush meant to lie; 600
+ Screened from espial by the jutting cape,
+ That rears on high its rude fantastic shape.[206]
+ Then rose his band to duty--not from sleep--
+ Equipped for deeds alike on land or deep;
+ While leaned their Leader o'er the fretting flood,
+ And calmly talked--and yet he talked of blood!
+
+
+
+ CANTO THE SECOND.
+
+ "Conosceste i dubbiosi desiri?"
+ Dante, _Inferno_, v, 120.
+
+ I.
+
+ In Coron's bay floats many a galley light,
+ Through Coron's lattices the lamps are bright,[207]
+ For Seyd, the Pacha, makes a feast to-night:
+ A feast for promised triumph yet to come, 610
+ When he shall drag the fettered Rovers home;
+ This hath he sworn by Allah and his sword,
+ And faithful to his firman and his word,
+ His summoned prows collect along the coast,
+ And great the gathering crews, and loud the boast;
+ Already shared the captives and the prize,
+ Though far the distant foe they thus despise;
+ 'Tis but to sail--no doubt to-morrow's Sun
+ Will see the Pirates bound--their haven won!
+ Meantime the watch may slumber, if they will, 620
+ Nor only wake to war, but dreaming kill.
+ Though all, who can, disperse on shore and seek
+ To flesh their glowing valour on the Greek;
+ How well such deed becomes the turbaned brave--
+ To bare the sabre's edge before a slave!
+ Infest his dwelling--but forbear to slay,
+ Their arms are strong, yet merciful to-day,
+ And do not deign to smite because they may!
+ Unless some gay caprice suggests the blow,
+ To keep in practice for the coming foe. 630
+ Revel and rout the evening hours beguile,
+ And they who wish to wear a head must smile;
+ For Moslem mouths produce their choicest cheer,
+ And hoard their curses, till the coast is clear.
+
+ II.
+
+ High in his hall reclines the turbaned Seyd;
+ Around--the bearded chiefs he came to lead.
+ Removed the banquet, and the last pilaff--
+ Forbidden draughts, 'tis said, he dared to quaff,
+ Though to the rest the sober berry's juice[208]
+ The slaves bear round for rigid Moslems' use; 640
+ The long chibouque's[209] dissolving cloud supply,
+ While dance the Almas[210] to wild minstrelsy.
+ The rising morn will view the chiefs embark;
+ But waves are somewhat treacherous in the dark:
+ And revellers may more securely sleep
+ On silken couch than o'er the rugged deep:
+ Feast there who can--nor combat till they must,
+ And less to conquest than to Korans trust;
+ And yet the numbers crowded in his host
+ Might warrant more than even the Pacha's boast. 650
+
+ III.
+
+ With cautious reverence from the outer gate
+ Slow stalks the slave, whose office there to wait,
+ Bows his bent head--his hand salutes the floor,
+ Ere yet his tongue the trusted tidings bore:
+ "A captive Dervise, from the Pirate's nest
+ Escaped, is here--himself would tell the rest."[211]
+ He took the sign from Seyd's assenting eye,
+ And led the holy man in silence nigh.
+ His arms were folded on his dark-green vest,
+ His step was feeble, and his look deprest; 660
+ Yet worn he seemed of hardship more than years,
+ And pale his cheek with penance, not from fears.
+ Vowed to his God--his sable locks he wore,
+ And these his lofty cap rose proudly o'er:
+ Around his form his loose long robe was thrown,
+ And wrapt a breast bestowed on heaven alone;
+ Submissive, yet with self-possession manned,
+ He calmly met the curious eyes that scanned;
+ And question of his coming fain would seek,
+ Before the Pacha's will allowed to speak. 670
+
+ IV.
+
+ "Whence com'st thou, Dervise?"
+ "From the Outlaw's den
+ A fugitive--"
+ "Thy capture where and when?"
+ "From Scalanova's port[212] to Scio's isle,
+ The Saick[213] was bound; but Allah did not smile
+ Upon our course--the Moslem merchant's gains
+ The Rovers won; our limbs have worn their chains.
+ I had no death to fear, nor wealth to boast,
+ Beyond the wandering freedom which I lost;
+ At length a fisher's humble boat by night
+ Afforded hope, and offered chance of flight; 680
+ I seized the hour, and find my safety here--
+ With thee--most mighty Pacha! who can fear?"
+
+ "How speed the outlaws? stand they well prepared,
+ Their plundered wealth, and robber's rock, to guard?
+ Dream they of this our preparation, doomed
+ To view with fire their scorpion nest consumed?"
+
+ "Pacha! the fettered captive's mourning eye,
+ That weeps for flight, but ill can play the spy;
+ I only heard the reckless waters roar,
+ Those waves that would not bear me from the shore; 690
+ I only marked the glorious Sun and sky,
+ Too bright--too blue--for my captivity;
+ And felt that all which Freedom's bosom cheers
+ Must break my chain before it dried my tears.
+ This mayst thou judge, at least, from my escape,
+ They little deem of aught in Peril's shape;
+ Else vainly had I prayed or sought the Chance
+ That leads me here--if eyed with vigilance:
+ The careless guard that did not see me fly,
+ May watch as idly when thy power is nigh. 700
+ Pacha! my limbs are faint--and nature craves
+ Food for my hunger, rest from tossing waves:
+ Permit my absence--peace be with thee! Peace
+ With all around!--now grant repose--release."
+
+ "Stay, Dervise! I have more to question--stay,
+ I do command thee--sit--dost hear?--obey!
+ More I must ask, and food the slaves shall bring;
+ Thou shall not pine where all are banqueting:
+ The supper done--prepare thee to reply,
+ Clearly and full--I love not mystery." 710
+ 'Twere vain to guess what shook the pious man,
+ Who looked not lovingly on that Divan;
+ Nor showed high relish for the banquet prest,
+ And less respect for every fellow guest.
+ Twas but a moment's peevish hectic passed
+ Along his cheek, and tranquillised as fast:
+ He sate him down in silence, and his look
+ Resumed the calmness which before forsook:
+ The feast was ushered in--but sumptuous fare
+ He shunned as if some poison mingled there. 720
+ For one so long condemned to toil and fast,
+ Methinks he strangely spares the rich repast.
+ "What ails thee, Dervise? eat--dost thou suppose
+ This feast a Christian's? or my friends thy foes?
+ Why dost thou shun the salt? that sacred pledge,[214]
+ Which, once partaken, blunts the sabre's edge,
+ Makes even contending tribes in peace unite,
+ And hated hosts seem brethren to the sight!"
+
+ "Salt seasons dainties--and my food is still
+ The humblest root, my drink the simplest rill; 730
+ And my stern vow and Order's[215] laws oppose
+ To break or mingle bread with friends or foes;
+ It may seem strange--if there be aught to dread
+ That peril rests upon my single head;
+ But for thy sway--nay more--thy Sultan's throne,
+ I taste nor bread nor banquet--save alone;
+ Infringed our Order's rule, the Prophet's rage
+ To Mecca's dome might bar my pilgrimage."
+
+ "Well--as thou wilt--ascetic as thou art--
+ One question answer; then in peace depart. 740
+ How many?--Ha! it cannot sure be day?
+ What Star--what Sun is bursting on the bay?
+ It shines a lake of fire!--away--away!
+ Ho! treachery! my guards! my scimitar!
+ The galleys feed the flames--and I afar!
+ Accurséd Dervise!--these thy tidings--thou
+ Some villain spy--seize--cleave him--slay him now!"
+
+ Up rose the Dervise with that burst of light,
+ Nor less his change of form appalled the sight:
+ Up rose that Dervise--not in saintly garb, 750
+ But like a warrior bounding on his barb,
+ Dashed his high cap, and tore his robe away--
+ Shone his mailed breast, and flashed his sabre's ray!
+ His close but glittering casque, and sable plume,
+ More glittering eye, and black brow's sabler gloom,
+ Glared on the Moslems' eyes some Afrit Sprite,
+ Whose demon death-blow left no hope for fight.
+ The wild confusion, and the swarthy glow
+ Of flames on high, and torches from below;
+ The shriek of terror, and the mingling yell-- 760
+ For swords began to clash, and shouts to swell--
+ Flung o'er that spot of earth the air of Hell!
+ Distracted, to and fro, the flying slaves
+ Behold but bloody shore and fiery waves;
+ Nought heeded they the Pacha's angry cry,
+ _They_ seize that Dervise!--seize on Zatanai![216]
+ He saw their terror--checked the first despair
+ That urged him but to stand and perish there,
+ Since far too early and too well obeyed,
+ The flame was kindled ere the signal made; 770
+ He saw their terror--from his baldric drew
+ His bugle--brief the blast--but shrilly blew;
+ 'Tis answered--"Well ye speed, my gallant crew!
+ Why did I doubt their quickness of career?
+ And deem design had left me single here?"
+ Sweeps his long arm--that sabre's whirling sway
+ Sheds fast atonement for its first delay;
+ Completes his fury, what their fear begun,
+ And makes the many basely quail to one.
+ The cloven turbans o'er the chamber spread, 780
+ And scarce an arm dare rise to guard its head:
+ Even Seyd, convulsed, o'erwhelmed, with rage, surprise,
+ Retreats before him, though he still defies.
+ No craven he--and yet he dreads the blow,
+ So much Confusion magnifies his foe!
+ His blazing galleys still distract his sight,
+ He tore his beard, and foaming fled the fight;[217]
+ For now the pirates passed the Haram gate,
+ And burst within--and it were death to wait;
+ Where wild Amazement shrieking--kneeling--throws 790
+ The sword aside--in vain--the blood o'erflows!
+ The Corsairs pouring, haste to where within
+ Invited Conrad's bugle, and the din
+ Of groaning victims, and wild cries for life,
+ Proclaimed how well he did the work of strife.
+ They shout to find him grim and lonely there,
+ A glutted tiger mangling in his lair!
+ But short their greeting, shorter his reply--
+ "'Tis well--but Seyd escapes--and he must die--
+ Much hath been done--but more remains to do-- 800
+ Their galleys blaze--why not their city too?"
+
+ V.
+
+ Quick at the word they seized him each a torch,
+ And fire the dome from minaret to porch.
+ A stern delight was fixed in Conrad's eye,
+ But sudden sunk--for on his ear the cry
+ Of women struck, and like a deadly knell
+ Knocked at that heart unmoved by Battle's yell.
+ "Oh! burst the Haram--wrong not on your lives
+ One female form--remember--_we_ have wives.
+ On them such outrage Vengeance will repay; 810
+ Man is our foe, and such 'tis ours to slay:
+ But still we spared--must spare the weaker prey.
+ Oh! I forgot--but Heaven will not forgive
+ If at my word the helpless cease to live;
+ Follow who will--I go--we yet have time
+ Our souls to lighten of at least a crime."
+ He climbs the crackling stair--he bursts the door,
+ Nor feels his feet glow scorching with the floor;
+ His breath choked gasping with the volumed smoke,
+ But still from room to room his way he broke. 820
+ They search--they find--they save: with lusty arms
+ Each bears a prize of unregarded charms;
+ Calm their loud fears; sustain their sinking frames
+ With all the care defenceless Beauty claims:
+ So well could Conrad tame their fiercest mood,
+ And check the very hands with gore imbrued.
+ But who is she? whom Conrad's arms convey,
+ From reeking pile and combat's wreck, away--
+ Who but the love of him he dooms to bleed?
+ The Haram queen--but still the slave of Seyd! 830
+
+ VI.
+
+ Brief time had Conrad now to greet Gulnare,[218]
+ Few words to reassure the trembling Fair;
+ For in that pause Compassion snatched from War,
+ The foe before retiring, fast and far,
+ With wonder saw their footsteps unpursued,
+ First slowlier fled--then rallied--then withstood.
+ This Seyd perceives, then first perceives how few,
+ Compared with his, the Corsair's roving crew,
+ And blushes o'er his error, as he eyes
+ The ruin wrought by Panic and Surprise. 840
+ Alla il Alla! Vengeance swells the cry--
+ Shame mounts to rage that must atone or die!
+ And flame for flame and blood for blood must tell.
+ The tide of triumph ebbs that flowed too well--
+ When Wrath returns to renovated strife,
+ And those who fought for conquest strike for life.
+ Conrad beheld the danger--he beheld
+ His followers faint by freshening foes repelled:
+ "One effort--one--to break the circling host!"
+ They form--unite--charge--waver--all is lost! 850
+ Within a narrower ring compressed, beset,
+ Hopeless, not heartless, strive and struggle yet--
+ Ah! now they fight in firmest file no more,
+ Hemmed in--cut off--cleft down and trampled o'er;
+ But each strikes singly--silently--and home,
+ And sinks outwearied rather than o'ercome--
+ His last faint quittance rendering with his breath,
+ Till the blade glimmers in the grasp of Death!
+
+ VII.
+
+ But first, ere came the rallying host to blows,
+ And rank to rank, and hand to hand oppose, 860
+ Gulnare and all her Haram handmaids freed,
+ Safe in the dome of one who held their creed,
+ By Conrad's mandate safely were bestowed,
+ And dried those tears for life and fame that flowed:
+ And when that dark-eyed lady, young Gulnare,
+ Recalled those thoughts late wandering in despair,
+ Much did she marvel o'er the courtesy
+ That smoothed his accents, softened in his eye--
+ 'Twas strange--_that_ robber thus with gore bedewed,
+ Seemed gentler then than Seyd in fondest mood. 870
+ The Pacha wooed as if he deemed the slave
+ _Must_ seem delighted with the heart he gave;
+ The Corsair vowed protection, soothed affright,
+ As if his homage were a Woman's right.
+ "The wish is wrong--nay, worse for female--vain:
+ Yet much I long to view that Chief again;
+ If but to thank for, what my fear forgot,
+ The life--my loving Lord remembered not!"
+
+ VIII.
+
+ And him she saw, where thickest carnage spread,
+ But gathered breathing from the happier dead; 880
+ Far from his band, and battling with a host
+ That deem right dearly won the field he lost,
+ Felled--bleeding--baffled of the death he sought,
+ And snatched to expiate all the ills he wrought;
+ Preserved to linger and to live in vain,
+ While Vengeance pondered o'er new plans of pain,
+ And stanched the blood she saves to shed again--
+ But drop by drop, for Seyd's unglutted eye
+ Would doom him ever dying--ne'er to die!
+ Can this be he? triumphant late she saw, 890
+ When his red hand's wild gesture waved, a law!
+ 'Tis he indeed--disarmed but undeprest,
+ His sole regret the life he still possest;
+ His wounds too slight, though taken with that will,
+ Which would have kissed the hand that then could kill.
+ Oh were there none, of all the many given,
+ To send his soul--he scarcely asked to Heaven?[219]
+ Must he alone of all retain his breath,
+ Who more than all had striven and struck for death?
+ He deeply felt--what mortal hearts must feel, 900
+ When thus reversed on faithless Fortune's wheel,
+ For crimes committed, and the victor's threat
+ Of lingering tortures to repay the debt--
+ He deeply, darkly felt; but evil Pride
+ That led to perpetrate--now serves to hide.
+ Still in his stern and self-collected mien
+ A conqueror's more than captive's air is seen,
+ Though faint with wasting toil and stiffening wound,
+ But few that saw--so calmly gazed around:
+ Though the far shouting of the distant crowd, 910
+ Their tremors o'er, rose insolently loud,
+ The better warriors who beheld him near,
+ Insulted not the foe who taught them fear;
+ And the grim guards that to his durance led,
+ In silence eyed him with a secret dread.
+
+ IX.
+
+ The Leech was sent--but not in mercy--there,
+ To note how much the life yet left could bear;
+ He found enough to load with heaviest chain,
+ And promise feeling for the wrench of Pain;
+ To-morrow--yea--to-morrow's evening Sun 920
+ Will, sinking, see Impalement's pangs begun,
+ And rising with the wonted blush of morn
+ Behold how well or ill those pangs are borne.
+ Of torments this the longest and the worst,
+ Which adds all other agony to thirst,
+ That day by day Death still forbears to slake,
+ While famished vultures flit around the stake.
+ "Oh! water--water!"--smiling Hate denies
+ The victim's prayer, for if he drinks he dies.
+ This was his doom;--the Leech, the guard, were gone, 930
+ And left proud Conrad fettered and alone.
+
+ X.
+
+ 'Twere vain to paint to what his feelings grew--
+ It even were doubtful if their victim knew.
+ There is a war, a chaos of the mind,[220]
+ When all its elements convulsed, combined
+ Lie dark and jarring with perturbéd force,
+ And gnashing with impenitent Remorse--
+ That juggling fiend, who never spake before,
+ But cries "I warned thee!" when the deed is o'er.
+ Vain voice! the spirit burning but unbent, 940
+ May writhe--rebel--the weak alone repent!
+ Even in that lonely hour when most it feels,
+ And, to itself, all--all that self reveals,--
+ No single passion, and no ruling thought
+ That leaves the rest, as once, unseen, unsought,
+ But the wild prospect when the Soul reviews,
+ _All_ rushing through their thousand avenues--
+ Ambition's dreams expiring, Love's regret,
+ Endangered Glory, Life itself beset;
+ The joy untasted, the contempt or hate 950
+ 'Gainst those who fain would triumph in our fate;
+ The hopeless past, the hasting future driven
+ Too quickly on to guess if Hell or Heaven;
+ Deeds--thoughts--and words, perhaps remembered not
+ So keenly till that hour, but ne'er forgot;
+ Things light or lovely in their acted time,
+ But now to stern Reflection each a crime;
+ The withering sense of Evil unrevealed,
+ Not cankering less because the more concealed;
+ All, in a word, from which all eyes must start, 960
+ That opening sepulchre, the naked heart[221]
+ Bares with its buried woes--till Pride awake,
+ To snatch the mirror from the soul, and break.
+ Aye, Pride can veil, and Courage brave it all--
+ All--all--before--beyond--the deadliest fall.
+ Each hath some fear, and he who least betrays,
+ The only hypocrite deserving praise:
+ Not the loud recreant wretch who boasts and flies;
+ But he who looks on Death--and silent dies:
+ So, steeled by pondering o'er his far career, 970
+ He half-way meets Him should He menace near!
+
+ XI.
+
+ In the high chamber of his highest tower
+ Sate Conrad, fettered in the Pacha's power.
+ His palace perished in the flame--this fort
+ Contained at once his captive and his court.
+ Not much could Conrad of his sentence blame,
+ His foe, if vanquished, had but shared the same:--
+ Alone he sate--in solitude had scanned
+ His guilty bosom, but that breast he manned:
+ One thought alone he could not--dared not meet-- 980
+ "Oh, how these tidings will Medora greet?"
+ Then--only then--his clanking hands he raised,
+ And strained with rage the chain on which he gazed;
+ But soon he found, or feigned, or dreamed relief,
+ And smiled in self-derision of his grief,
+ "And now come Torture when it will, or may--
+ More need of rest to nerve me for the day!"
+ This said, with langour to his mat he crept,
+ And, whatso'er his visions, quickly slept.
+
+ 'Twas hardly midnight when that fray begun, 990
+ For Conrad's plans matured, at once were done,
+ And Havoc loathes so much the waste of time,
+ She scarce had left an uncommitted crime.
+ One hour beheld him since the tide he stemmed--
+ Disguised--discovered--conquering--ta'en--condemned--
+ A Chief on land--an outlaw on the deep--
+ Destroying--saving--prisoned--and asleep!
+
+ XII.
+
+ He slept in calmest seeming, for his breath[222]
+ Was hushed so deep--Ah! happy if in death!
+ He slept--Who o'er his placid slumber bends? 1000
+ His foes are gone--and here he hath no friends;
+ Is it some Seraph sent to grant him grace?
+ No,'tis an earthly form with heavenly face!
+ Its white arm raised a lamp--yet gently hid,
+ Lest the ray flash abruptly on the lid
+ Of that closed eye, which opens but to pain,
+ And once unclosed--but once may close again.
+ That form, with eye so dark, and cheek so fair,
+ And auburn waves of gemmed and braided hair;
+ With shape of fairy lightness--naked foot, 1010
+ That shines like snow, and falls on earth as mute--
+ Through guards and dunnest night how came it there?
+ Ah! rather ask what will not Woman dare?
+ Whom Youth and Pity lead like thee, Gulnare!
+ She could not sleep--and while the Pacha's rest
+ In muttering dreams yet saw his pirate-guest,
+ She left his side--his signet-ring she bore,
+ Which oft in sport adorned her hand before--
+ And with it, scarcely questioned, won her way
+ Through drowsy guards that must that sign obey. 1020
+ Worn out with toil, and tired with changing blows,
+ Their eyes had envied Conrad his repose;
+ And chill and nodding at the turret door,
+ They stretch their listless limbs, and watch no more;
+ Just raised their heads to hail the signet-ring,
+ Nor ask or what or who the sign may bring.
+
+ XIII.
+
+ She gazed in wonder, "Can he calmly sleep,
+ While other eyes his fall or ravage weep?
+ And mine in restlessness are wandering here--
+ What sudden spell hath made this man so dear? 1030
+ True--'tis to him my life, and more, I owe,
+ And me and mine he spared from worse than woe:
+ 'Tis late to think--but soft--his slumber breaks--
+ How heavily he sighs!--he starts--awakes!"
+ He raised his head, and dazzled with the light,
+ His eye seemed dubious if it saw aright:
+ He moved his hand--the grating of his chain
+ Too harshly told him that he lived again.
+ "What is that form? if not a shape of air,
+ Methinks, my jailor's face shows wondrous fair!" 1040
+ "Pirate! thou know'st me not, but I am one,
+ Grateful for deeds thou hast too rarely done;
+ Look on me--and remember her, thy hand
+ Snatched from the flames, and thy more fearful band.
+ I come through darkness--and I scarce know why--
+ Yet not to hurt--I would not see thee die."
+
+ "If so, kind lady! thine the only eye
+ That would not here in that gay hope delight:
+ Theirs is the chance--and let them use their right.
+ But still I thank their courtesy or thine, 1050
+ That would confess me at so fair a shrine!"
+
+ Strange though it seem--yet with extremest grief
+ Is linked a mirth--it doth not bring relief--
+ That playfulness of Sorrow ne'er beguiles,
+ And smiles in bitterness--but still it smiles;
+ And sometimes with the wisest and the best,
+ Till even the scaffold[223] echoes with their jest!
+ Yet not the joy to which it seems akin--
+ It may deceive all hearts, save that within.
+ Whate'er it was that flashed on Conrad, now 1060
+ A laughing wildness half unbent his brow:
+ And these his accents had a sound of mirth,
+ As if the last he could enjoy on earth;
+ Yet 'gainst his nature--for through that short life,
+ Few thoughts had he to spare from gloom and strife.
+
+ XIV.
+
+ "Corsair! thy doom is named--but I have power
+ To soothe the Pacha in his weaker hour.
+ Thee would I spare--nay more--would save thee now,
+ But this--Time--Hope--nor even thy strength allow;
+ But all I can,--I will--at least delay 1070
+ The sentence that remits thee scarce a day.
+ More now were ruin--even thyself were loth
+ The vain attempt should bring but doom to both."
+
+ "Yes!--loth indeed:--my soul is nerved to all,
+ Or fall'n too low to fear a further fall:
+ Tempt not thyself with peril--me with hope
+ Of flight from foes with whom I could not cope:
+ Unfit to vanquish--shall I meanly fly,
+ The one of all my band that would not die?
+ Yet there is one--to whom my Memory clings, 1080
+ Till to these eyes her own wild softness springs.
+ My sole resources in the path I trod
+ Were these--my bark--my sword--my love--my God!
+ The last I left in youth!--He leaves me now--
+ And Man but works his will to lay me low.
+ I have no thought to mock his throne with prayer
+ Wrung from the coward crouching of Despair;
+ It is enough--I breathe--and I can bear.
+ My sword is shaken from the worthless hand
+ That might have better kept so true a brand; 1090
+ My bark is sunk or captive--but my Love--
+ For her in sooth my voice would mount above:
+ Oh! she is all that still to earth can bind--
+ And this will break a heart so more than kind,
+ And blight a form--till thine appeared, Gulnare!
+ Mine eye ne'er asked if others were as fair."
+
+ "Thou lov'st another then?--but what to me
+ Is this--'tis nothing--nothing e'er can be:
+ But yet--thou lov'st--and--Oh! I envy those
+ Whose hearts on hearts as faithful can repose, 1100
+ Who never feel the void--the wandering thought
+ That sighs o'er visions--such as mine hath wrought."
+
+ "Lady--methought thy love was his, for whom
+ This arm redeemed thee from a fiery tomb."
+
+ "My love stern Seyd's! Oh--No--No--not my love--
+ Yet much this heart, that strives no more, once strove
+ To meet his passion--but it would not be.
+ I felt--I feel--Love dwells with--with the free.
+ I am a slave, a favoured slave at best,
+ To share his splendour, and seem very blest! 1110
+ Oft must my soul the question undergo,
+ Of--'Dost thou love?' and burn to answer, 'No!'
+ Oh! hard it is that fondness to sustain,
+ And struggle not to feel averse in vain;
+ But harder still the heart's recoil to bear,
+ And hide from one--perhaps another there.
+ He takes the hand I give not--nor withhold--
+ Its pulse nor checked--nor quickened--calmly cold:
+ And when resigned, it drops a lifeless weight
+ From one I never loved enough to hate. 1120
+ No warmth these lips return by his imprest,
+ And chilled Remembrance shudders o'er the rest.
+ Yes--had I ever proved that Passion's zeal,
+ The change to hatred were at least to feel:
+ But still--he goes unmourned--returns unsought--
+ And oft when present--absent from my thought.
+ Or when Reflection comes--and come it must--
+ I fear that henceforth 'twill but bring disgust;
+ I am his slave--but, in despite of pride,
+ 'Twere worse than bondage to become his bride. 1130
+ Oh! that this dotage of his breast would cease!
+ Or seek another and give mine release,
+ But yesterday--I could have said, to peace!
+ Yes, if unwonted fondness now I feign,[hv]
+ Remember--Captive! 'tis to break thy chain;
+ Repay the life that to thy hand I owe;
+ To give thee back to all endeared below,
+ Who share such love as I can never know.
+ Farewell--Morn breaks--and I must now away:
+ 'Twill cost me dear--but dread no death to-day!" 1140
+
+ XV.
+
+ She pressed his fettered fingers to her heart,
+ And bowed her head, and turned her to depart,
+ And noiseless as a lovely dream is gone.
+ And was she here? and is he now alone?
+ What gem hath dropped and sparkles o'er his chain?
+ The tear most sacred, shed for others' pain,
+ That starts at once--bright--pure--from Pity's mine,
+ Already polished by the hand divine!
+ Oh! too convincing--dangerously dear--
+ In Woman's eye the unanswerable tear! 1150
+ That weapon of her weakness she can wield,
+ To save, subdue--at once her spear and shield:
+ Avoid it--Virtue ebbs and Wisdom errs,
+ Too fondly gazing on that grief of hers!
+ What lost a world, and bade a hero fly?
+ The timid tear in Cleopatra's eye.
+ Yet be the soft Triumvir's fault forgiven;
+ By this--how many lose not earth--but Heaven!
+ Consign their souls to Man's eternal foe,
+ And seal their own to spare some Wanton's woe! 1160
+
+ XVI.
+
+ 'Tis Morn--and o'er his altered features play
+ The beams--without the Hope of yesterday.
+ What shall he be ere night? perchance a thing
+ O'er which the raven flaps her funeral wing,
+ By his closed eye unheeded and unfelt;
+ While sets that Sun, and dews of Evening melt,
+ Chill, wet, and misty round each stiffened limb,
+ Refreshing earth--reviving all but him!
+
+
+
+ CANTO THE THIRD.
+
+ "Come vedi--ancor non m'abbandona"
+ Dante, _Inferno_, v. 105.
+
+ I.
+
+ Slow sinks, more lovely ere his race be run,[224]
+ Along Morea's hills the setting Sun; 1170
+ Not, as in Northern climes, obscurely bright,
+ But one unclouded blaze of living light!
+ O'er the hushed deep the yellow beam he throws,
+ Gilds the green wave, that trembles as it glows.
+ On old Ægina's rock, and Idra's isle,[225]
+ The God of gladness sheds his parting smile;
+ O'er his own regions lingering, loves to shine,
+ Though there his altars are no more divine.
+ Descending fast the mountain shadows kiss
+ Thy glorious gulf, unconquered Salamis! 1180
+ Their azure arches through the long expanse
+ More deeply purpled met his mellowing glance,
+ And tenderest tints, along their summits driven,
+ Mark his gay course, and own the hues of Heaven;
+ Till, darkly shaded from the land and deep,
+ Behind his Delphian cliff he sinks to sleep.
+
+ On such an eve, his palest beam he cast,
+ When--Athens! here thy Wisest looked his last.
+ How watched thy better sons his farewell ray,
+ That closed their murdered Sage's[226] latest day! 1190
+ Not yet--not yet--Sol pauses on the hill--
+ The precious hour of parting lingers still;
+ But sad his light to agonising eyes,
+ And dark the mountain's once delightful dyes:
+ Gloom o'er the lovely land he seemed to pour,
+ The land, where Phoebus never frowned before:
+ But ere he sunk below Cithæron's head,
+ The cup of woe was quaffed--the Spirit fled;
+ The Soul of him who scorned to fear or fly--
+ Who lived and died, as none can live or die! 1200
+
+ But lo! from high Hymettus to the plain,
+ The Queen of night asserts her silent reign.[227]
+ No murky vapour, herald of the storm,
+ Hides her fair face, nor girds her glowing form;
+ With cornice glimmering as the moon-beams play,
+ There the white column greets her grateful ray,
+ And bright around with quivering beams beset,
+ Her emblem sparkles o'er the Minaret:
+ The groves of olive scattered dark and wide
+ Where meek Cephisus pours his scanty tide; 1210
+ The cypress saddening by the sacred Mosque,
+ The gleaming turret of the gay Kiosk;[228]
+ And, dun and sombre 'mid the holy calm,
+ Near Theseus' fane yon solitary palm,
+ All tinged with varied hues arrest the eye--
+ And dull were his that passed him heedless by.
+
+ Again the Ægean, heard no more afar,
+ Lulls his chafed breast from elemental war;
+ Again his waves in milder tints unfold
+ Their long array of sapphire and of gold, 1220
+ Mixed with the shades of many a distant isle,
+ That frown--where gentler Ocean seems to smile.
+
+ II.
+
+ Not now my theme--why turn my thoughts to thee?
+ Oh! who can look along thy native sea,
+ Nor dwell upon thy name, whate'er the tale,
+ So much its magic must o'er all prevail?
+ Who that beheld that Sun upon thee set,
+ Fair Athens! could thine evening face forget?
+ Not he--whose heart nor time nor distance frees,
+ Spell-bound within the clustering Cyclades! 1230
+ Nor seems this homage foreign to its strain,
+ His Corsair's isle was once thine own domain--[229]
+ Would that with freedom it were thine again!
+
+ III.
+
+ The Sun hath sunk--and, darker than the night,
+ Sinks with its beam upon the beacon height
+ Medora's heart--the third day's come and gone--
+ With it he comes not--sends not--faithless one!
+ The wind was fair though light! and storms were none.
+ Last eve Anselmo's bark returned, and yet
+ His only tidings that they had not met! 1240
+ Though wild, as now, far different were the tale
+ Had Conrad waited for that single sail.
+ The night-breeze freshens--she that day had passed
+ In watching all that Hope proclaimed a mast;
+ Sadly she sate on high--Impatience bore
+ At last her footsteps to the midnight shore,
+ And there she wandered, heedless of the spray
+ That dashed her garments oft, and warned away:
+ She saw not, felt not this--nor dared depart,
+ Nor deemed it cold--her chill was at her heart; 1250
+ Till grew such certainty from that suspense--
+ His very Sight had shocked from life or sense!
+
+ It came at last--a sad and shattered boat,
+ Whose inmates first beheld whom first they sought;
+ Some bleeding--all most wretched--these the few--
+ Scarce knew they how escaped--_this_ all they knew.
+ In silence, darkling, each appeared to wait
+ His fellow's mournful guess at Conrad's fate:
+ Something they would have said; but seemed to fear
+ To trust their accents to Medora's ear. 1260
+ She saw at once, yet sunk not--trembled not--
+ Beneath that grief, that loneliness of lot,
+ Within that meek fair form, were feelings high,
+ That deemed not till they found their energy.
+ While yet was Hope they softened, fluttered, wept--
+ All lost--that Softness died not--but it slept;
+ And o'er its slumber rose that Strength which said,
+ "With nothing left to love, there's nought to dread."
+ 'Tis more than Nature's--like the burning might
+ Delirium gathers from the fever's height. 1270
+
+ "Silent you stand--nor would I hear you tell
+ What--speak not--breathe not--for I know it well--
+ Yet would I ask--almost my lip denies
+ The--quick your answer--tell me where he lies."
+
+ "Lady! we know not--scarce with life we fled;
+ But here is one denies that he is dead:
+ He saw him bound; and bleeding--but alive."
+
+ She heard no further--'twas in vain to strive--
+ So throbbed each vein--each thought--till then withstood;
+ Her own dark soul--these words at once subdued: 1280
+ She totters--falls--and senseless had the wave
+ Perchance but snatched her from another grave;
+ But that with hands though rude, yet weeping eyes,
+ They yield such aid as Pity's haste supplies:[hw]
+ Dash o'er her deathlike cheek the ocean dew,
+ Raise, fan, sustain--till life returns anew;
+ Awake her handmaids, with the matrons leave
+ That fainting form o'er which they gaze and grieve;
+ Then seek Anselmo's cavern, to report
+ The tale too tedious--when the triumph short. 1290
+
+ IV.
+
+ In that wild council words waxed warm and strange,[hx]
+ With thoughts of ransom, rescue, and revenge;
+ All, save repose or flight: still lingering there
+ Breathed Conrad's spirit, and forbade despair;
+ Whate'er his fate--the breasts he formed and led
+ Will save him living, or appease him dead.
+ Woe to his foes! there yet survive a few,
+ Whose deeds are daring, as their hearts are true.
+
+ V.
+
+ Within the Haram's secret chamber sate[230]
+ Stern Seyd, still pondering o'er his Captive's fate; 1300
+ His thoughts on love and hate alternate dwell,
+ Now with Gulnare, and now in Conrad's cell;
+ Here at his feet the lovely slave reclined
+ Surveys his brow--would soothe his gloom of mind;
+ While many an anxious glance her large dark eye
+ Sends in its idle search for sympathy,
+ _His_ only bends in seeming o'er his beads,[231]
+ But inly views his victim as he bleeds.
+
+ "Pacha! the day is thine; and on thy crest
+ Sits Triumph--Conrad taken--fall'n the rest! 1310
+ His doom is fixed--he dies; and well his fate
+ Was earned--yet much too worthless for thy hate:
+ Methinks, a short release, for ransom told[hy]
+ With all his treasure, not unwisely sold;
+ Report speaks largely of his pirate-hoard--
+ Would that of this my Pacha were the lord!
+ While baffled, weakened by this fatal fray--
+ Watched--followed--he were then an easier prey;
+ But once cut off--the remnant of his band
+ Embark their wealth, and seek a safer strand." 1320
+
+ "Gulnare!--if for each drop of blood a gem
+ Where offered rich as Stamboul's diadem;
+ If for each hair of his a massy mine
+ Of virgin ore should supplicating shine;
+ If all our Arab tales divulge or dream
+ Of wealth were here--that gold should not redeem!
+ It had not now redeemed a single hour,
+ But that I know him fettered, in my power;
+ And, thirsting for revenge, I ponder still
+ On pangs that longest rack--and latest kill." 1330
+
+ "Nay, Seyd! I seek not to restrain thy rage,
+ Too justly moved for Mercy to assuage;
+ My thoughts were only to secure for thee
+ His riches--thus released, he were not free:
+ Disabled--shorn of half his might and band,
+ His capture could but wait thy first command."
+
+ "His capture _could!_--and shall I then resign
+ One day to him--the wretch already mine?
+ Release my foe!--at whose remonstrance?--thine!
+ Fair suitor!--to thy virtuous gratitude, 1340
+ That thus repays this Giaour's relenting mood,
+ Which thee and thine alone of all could spare--
+ No doubt, regardless--if the prize were fair--
+ My thanks and praise alike are due--now hear!
+ I have a counsel for thy gentler ear:
+ I do mistrust thee, Woman! and each word
+ Of thine stamps truth on all Suspicion heard.[hz]
+ Borne in his arms through fire from yon Serai--
+ Say, wert thou lingering there with him to fly?
+ Thou need'st not answer--thy confession speaks, 1350
+ Already reddening on thy guilty cheeks:
+ Then--lovely Dame--bethink thee! and beware:
+ 'Tis not _his_ life alone may claim such care!
+ Another word and--nay--I need no more.
+ Accursed was the moment when he bore
+ Thee from the flames, which better far--but no--
+ I then had mourned thee with a lover's woe--
+ Now 'tis thy lord that warns--deceitful thing!
+ Know'st thou that I can clip thy wanton wing?
+ In words alone I am not wont to chafe: 1360
+ Look to thyself--nor deem thy falsehood safe!"
+
+ He rose--and slowly, sternly thence withdrew,
+ Rage in his eye, and threats in his adieu:
+ Ah! little recked that Chief of womanhood--
+ Which frowns ne'er quelled, nor menaces subdued;
+ And little deemed he what thy heart, Gulnare!
+ When soft could feel--and when incensed could dare!
+ His doubts appeared to wrong--nor yet she knew
+ How deep the root from whence Compassion grew--
+ She was a slave--from such may captives claim 1370
+ A fellow-feeling, differing but in name;
+ Still half unconscious--heedless of his wrath,
+ Again she ventured on the dangerous path,
+ Again his rage repelled--until arose
+ That strife of thought, the source of Woman's woes!
+
+ VI.
+
+ Meanwhile--long--anxious--weary--still the same
+ Rolled day and night: his soul could Terror tame--
+ This fearful interval of doubt and dread,
+ When every hour might doom him worse than dead;[ia]
+ When every step that echoed by the gate, 1380
+ Might entering lead where axe and stake await;
+ When every voice that grated on his ear
+ Might be the last that he could ever hear;
+ Could Terror tame--that Spirit stern and high
+ Had proved unwilling as unfit to die;
+ 'Twas worn--perhaps decayed--yet silent bore
+ That conflict, deadlier far than all before:
+ The heat of fight, the hurry of the gale,
+ Leave scarce one thought inert enough to quail:
+ But bound and fixed in fettered solitude, 1390
+ To pine, the prey of every changing mood;
+ To gaze on thine own heart--and meditate
+ Irrevocable faults, and coming fate--
+ Too late the last to shun--the first to mend--
+ To count the hours that struggle to thine end,
+ With not a friend to animate and tell
+ To other ears that Death became thee well;
+ Around thee foes to forge the ready lie,
+ And blot Life's latest scene with calumny;
+ Before thee tortures, which the Soul can dare, 1400
+ Yet doubts how well the shrinking flesh may bear;
+ But deeply feels a single cry would shame,
+ To Valour's praise thy last and dearest claim;
+ The life thou leav'st below, denied above
+ By kind monopolists of heavenly love;
+ And more than doubtful Paradise--thy Heaven
+ Of earthly hope--thy loved one from thee riven.
+ Such were the thoughts that outlaw must sustain,
+ And govern pangs surpassing mortal pain:
+ And those sustained he--boots it well or ill? 1410
+ Since not to sink beneath, is something still!
+
+ VII.
+
+ The first day passed--he saw not her--Gulnare--
+ The second, third--and still she came not there;
+ But what her words avouched, her charms had done,
+ Or else he had not seen another Sun.
+ The fourth day rolled along, and with the night
+ Came storm and darkness in their mingling might.
+ Oh! how he listened to the rushing deep,
+ That ne'er till now so broke upon his sleep;
+ And his wild Spirit wilder wishes sent, 1420
+ Roused by the roar of his own element!
+ Oft had he ridden on that wingéd wave,
+ And loved its roughness for the speed it gave;
+ And now its dashing echoed on his ear,
+ A long known voice--alas! too vainly near!
+ Loud sung the wind above; and, doubly loud,
+ Shook o'er his turret cell the thunder-cloud;[232]
+ And flashed the lightning by the latticed bar,
+ To him more genial than the Midnight Star:
+ Close to the glimmering grate he dragged his chain, 1430
+ And hoped _that_ peril might not prove in vain.
+ He rais'd his iron hand to Heaven, and prayed
+ One pitying flash to mar the form it made:
+ His steel and impious prayer attract alike--
+ The storm rolled onward, and disdained to strike;
+ Its peal waxed fainter--ceased--he felt alone,
+ As if some faithless friend had spurned his groan!
+
+ VIII.
+
+ The midnight passed, and to the massy door
+ A light step came--it paused--it moved once more;
+ Slow turns the grating bolt and sullen key: 1440
+ 'Tis as his heart foreboded--that fair She!
+ Whate'er her sins, to him a Guardian Saint,
+ And beauteous still as hermit's hope can paint;
+ Yet changed since last within that cell she came,
+ More pale her cheek, more tremulous her frame:
+ On him she cast her dark and hurried eye,
+ Which spoke before her accents--"Thou must die!
+ Yes, thou must die--there is but one resource,
+ The last--the worst--if torture were not worse."
+
+ "Lady! I look to none; my lips proclaim 1450
+ What last proclaimed they--Conrad still the same:
+ Why should'st thou seek an outlaw's life to spare,
+ And change the sentence I deserve to bear?
+ Well have I earned--nor here alone--the meed
+ Of Seyd's revenge, by many a lawless deed."
+
+ "Why should I seek? because--Oh! did'st thou not
+ Redeem my life from worse than Slavery's lot?
+ Why should I seek?--hath Misery made thee blind
+ To the fond workings of a woman's mind?
+ And must I say?--albeit my heart rebel 1460
+ With all that Woman feels, but should not tell--
+ Because--despite thy crimes--that heart is moved:
+ It feared thee--thanked thee--pitied--maddened--loved.
+ Reply not, tell not now thy tale again,
+ Thou lov'st another--and I love in vain:
+ Though fond as mine her bosom, form more fair,
+ I rush through peril which she would not dare.
+ If that thy heart to hers were truly dear,
+ Were I thine own--thou wert not lonely here:
+ An outlaw's spouse--and leave her Lord to roam! 1470
+ What hath such gentle dame to do with home?
+ But speak not now--o'er thine and o'er my head
+ Hangs the keen sabre by a single thread;[ib]
+ If thou hast courage still, and would'st be free,
+ Receive this poniard--rise and follow me!"
+
+ "Aye--in my chains! my steps will gently tread,
+ With these adornments, o'er such slumbering head!
+ Thou hast forgot--is this a garb for flight?
+ Or is that instrument more fit for fight?"
+
+ "Misdoubting Corsair! I have gained the guard, 1480
+ Ripe for revolt, and greedy for reward.
+ A single word of mine removes that chain:
+ Without some aid how here could I remain?
+ Well, since we met, hath sped my busy time,
+ If in aught evil, for thy sake the crime:
+ The crime--'tis none to punish those of Seyd.
+ That hatred tyrant, Conrad--he must bleed!
+ I see thee shudder, but my soul is changed--
+ Wronged--spurned--reviled--and it shall be avenged--
+ Accused of what till now my heart disdained-- 1490
+ Too faithful, though to bitter bondage chained.
+ Yes, smile!--but he had little cause to sneer,
+ I was not treacherous then, nor thou too dear:
+ But he has said it--and the jealous well,--
+ Those tyrants--teasing--tempting to rebel,--
+ Deserve the fate their fretting lips foretell.
+ I never loved--he bought me--somewhat high--
+ Since with me came a heart he could not buy.
+ I was a slave unmurmuring; he hath said,
+ But for his rescue I with thee had fled. 1500
+ 'Twas false thou know'st--but let such Augurs rue,
+ Their words are omens Insult renders true.
+ Nor was thy respite granted to my prayer;
+ This fleeting grace was only to prepare
+ New torments for thy life, and my despair.
+ Mine too he threatens; but his dotage still
+ Would fain reserve me for his lordly will:
+ When wearier of these fleeting charms and me,
+ There yawns the sack--and yonder rolls the sea!
+ What, am I then a toy for dotard's play, 1510
+ To wear but till the gilding frets away?
+ I saw thee--loved thee--owe thee all--would save,
+ If but to show how grateful is a slave.
+ But had he not thus menaced fame and life,--
+ And well he keeps his oaths pronounced in strife--
+ I still had saved thee--but the Pacha spared:
+ Now I am all thine own--for all prepared:
+ Thou lov'st me not--nor know'st--or but the worst.
+ Alas! _this_ love--_that_ hatred--are the first--
+ Oh! could'st thou prove my truth, thou would'st not start, 1520
+ Nor fear the fire that lights an Eastern heart;
+ 'Tis now the beacon of thy safety--now
+ It points within the port a Mainote prow:
+ But in one chamber, where our path must lead,
+ There sleeps--he must not wake--the oppressor Seyd!"
+
+ "Gulnare--Gulnare--I never felt till now
+ My abject fortune, withered fame so low:
+ Seyd is mine enemy; had swept my band
+ From earth with ruthless but with open hand,
+ And therefore came I, in my bark of war, 1530
+ To smite the smiter with the scimitar;
+ Such is my weapon--not the secret knife;
+ Who spares a Woman's seeks not Slumber's life.
+ Thine saved I gladly, Lady--not for this;
+ Let me not deem that mercy shown amiss.
+ Now fare thee well--more peace be with thy breast!
+ Night wears apace, my last of earthly rest!"[ic]
+
+ "Rest! rest! by sunrise must thy sinews shake,
+ And thy limbs writhe around the ready stake,
+ I heard the order--saw--I will not see-- 1540
+ If thou wilt perish, I will fall with thee.
+ My life--my love--my hatred--all below
+ Are on this cast--Corsair! 'tis but a blow!
+ Without it flight were idle--how evade
+ His sure pursuit?--my wrongs too unrepaid,
+ My youth disgraced--the long, long wasted years,
+ One blow shall cancel with our future fears;
+ But since the dagger suits thee less than brand,
+ I'll try the firmness of a female hand.
+ The guards are gained--one moment all were o'er-- 1550
+ Corsair! we meet in safety or no more;
+ If errs my feeble hand, the morning cloud
+ Will hover o'er thy scaffold, and my shroud."
+
+ IX.
+
+ She turned, and vanished ere he could reply,
+ But his glance followed far with eager eye;
+ And gathering, as he could, the links that bound
+ His form, to curl their length, and curb their sound,
+ Since bar and bolt no more his steps preclude,
+ He, fast as fettered limbs allow, pursued.
+ 'Twas dark and winding, and he knew not where 1560
+ That passage led; nor lamp nor guard was there:
+ He sees a dusky glimmering--shall he seek
+ Or shun that ray so indistinct and weak?
+ Chance guides his steps--a freshness seems to bear
+ Full on his brow as if from morning air;
+ He reached an open gallery--on his eye
+ Gleamed the last star of night, the clearing sky:
+ Yet scarcely heeded these--another light
+ From a lone chamber struck upon his sight.
+ Towards it he moved; a scarcely closing door 1570
+ Revealed the ray within, but nothing more.
+ With hasty step a figure outward passed,
+ Then paused, and turned--and paused--'tis She at last!
+ No poniard in that hand, nor sign of ill--
+ "Thanks to that softening heart--she could not kill!"
+ Again he looked, the wildness of her eye
+ Starts from the day abrupt and fearfully.
+ She stopped--threw back her dark far-floating hair,
+ That nearly veiled her face and bosom fair,
+ As if she late had bent her leaning head 1580
+ Above some object of her doubt or dread.
+ They meet--upon her brow--unknown--forgot--
+ Her hurrying hand had left--'twas but a spot--
+ Its hue was all he saw, and scarce withstood--
+ Oh! slight but certain pledge of crime--'tis Blood!
+
+ X.
+
+ He had seen battle--he had brooded lone
+ O'er promised pangs to sentenced Guilt foreshown;
+ He had been tempted--chastened--and the chain
+ Yet on his arms might ever there remain:
+ But ne'er from strife--captivity--remorse-- 1590
+ From all his feelings in their inmost force--
+ So thrilled, so shuddered every creeping vein,
+ As now they froze before that purple stain.
+ That spot of blood, that light but guilty streak,
+ Had banished all the beauty from her cheek!
+ Blood he had viewed--could view unmoved--but then
+ It flowed in combat, or was shed by men![id]
+
+ XI.
+
+ "'Tis done--he nearly waked--but it is done.
+ Corsair! he perished--thou art dearly won.
+ All words would now be vain--away--away! 1600
+ Our bark is tossing--'tis already day.
+ The few gained over, now are wholly mine,
+ And these thy yet surviving band shall join:
+ Anon my voice shall vindicate my hand,
+ When once our sail forsakes this hated strand."
+
+ XII.
+
+ She clapped her hands, and through the gallery pour,
+ Equipped for flight, her vassals--Greek and Moor;
+ Silent but quick they stoop, his chains unbind;
+ Once more his limbs are free as mountain wind!
+ But on his heavy heart such sadness sate, 1610
+ As if they there transferred that iron weight.
+ No words are uttered--at her sign, a door
+ Reveals the secret passage to the shore;
+ The city lies behind--they speed, they reach
+ The glad waves dancing on the yellow beach;
+ And Conrad following, at her beck, obeyed,
+ Nor cared he now if rescued or betrayed;
+ Resistance were as useless as if Seyd
+ Yet lived to view the doom his ire decreed.
+
+ XIII.
+
+ Embarked--the sail unfurled--the light breeze blew-- 1620
+ How much had Conrad's memory to review![ie]
+ Sunk he in contemplation, till the Cape
+ Where last he anchored reared its giant shape.
+ Ah!--since that fatal night, though brief the time,
+ Had swept an age of terror, grief, and crime.
+ As its far shadow frowned above the mast,
+ He veiled his face, and sorrowed as he passed;
+ He thought of all--Gonsalvo and his band,
+ His fleeting triumph and his failing hand;
+ He thought on her afar, his lonely bride: 1630
+ He turned and saw--Gulnare, the Homicide!
+
+ XIV.
+
+ She watched his features till she could not bear
+ Their freezing aspect and averted air;
+ And that strange fierceness foreign to her eye
+ Fell quenched in tears, too late to shed or dry.[if]
+ She knelt beside him and his hand she pressed,
+ "Thou may'st forgive though Allah's self detest;
+ But for that deed of darkness what wert thou?
+ Reproach me--but not yet--Oh! spare me _now!_
+ I am not what I seem--this fearful night 1640
+ My brain bewildered--do not madden quite!
+ If I had never loved--though less my guilt--
+ Thou hadst not lived to--hate me--if thou wilt."
+
+ XV.
+
+ She wrongs his thoughts--they more himself upbraid
+ Than her--though undesigned--the wretch he made;
+ But speechless all, deep, dark, and unexprest,
+ They bleed within that silent cell--his breast.
+ Still onward, fair the breeze, nor rough the surge,
+ The blue waves sport around the stern they urge;
+ Far on the Horizon's verge appears a speck, 1650
+ A spot--a mast--a sail--an arméd deck!
+ Their little bark her men of watch descry,
+ And ampler canvass woos the wind from high;
+ She bears her down majestically near,
+ Speed on her prow, and terror in her tier;[ig][233]
+ A flash is seen--the ball beyond her bow
+ Booms harmless, hissing to the deep below.
+ Up rose keen Conrad from his silent trance,
+ A long, long absent gladness in his glance;
+ "'Tis mine--my blood-rag flag! again--again-- 1660
+ I am not all deserted on the main!"
+ They own the signal, answer to the hail,
+ Hoist out the boat at once, and slacken sail.
+ "'Tis Conrad! Conrad!" shouting from the deck,
+ Command nor Duty could their transport check!
+ With light alacrity and gaze of Pride,
+ They view him mount once more his vessel's side;
+ A smile relaxing in each rugged face,
+ Their arms can scarce forbear a rough embrace.
+ He, half forgetting danger and defeat, 1670
+ Returns their greeting as a Chief may greet,
+ Wrings with a cordial grasp Anselmo's hand,
+ And feels he yet can conquer and command!
+
+ XVI.
+
+ These greetings o'er, the feelings that o'erflow,
+ Yet grieve to win him back without a blow;
+ They sailed prepared for vengeance--had they known
+ A woman's hand secured that deed her own,
+ She were their Queen--less scrupulous are they
+ Than haughty Conrad how they win their way.
+ With many an asking smile, and wondering stare, 1680
+ They whisper round, and gaze upon Gulnare;
+ And her, at once above--beneath her sex,
+ Whom blood appalled not, their regards perplex.[ih]
+ To Conrad turns her faint imploring eye,
+ She drops her veil, and stands in silence by;
+ Her arms are meekly folded on that breast,
+ Which--Conrad safe--to Fate resigned the rest.
+ Though worse than frenzy could that bosom fill,
+ Extreme in love or hate, in good or ill,
+ The worst of crimes had left her Woman still! 1690
+
+ XVII.
+
+ This Conrad marked, and felt--ah! could he less?--
+ Hate of that deed--but grief for her distress;
+ What she has done no tears can wash away,
+ And Heaven must punish on its angry day:
+ But--it was done: he knew, whate'er her guilt,
+ For him that poniard smote, that blood was spilt;
+ And he was free!--and she for him had given
+ Her all on earth, and more than all in heaven![234]
+ And now he turned him to that dark-eyed slave
+ Whose brow was bowed beneath the glance he gave, 1700
+ Who now seemed changed and humbled, faint and meek,
+ But varying oft the colour of her cheek
+ To deeper shades of paleness--all its red
+ That fearful spot which stained it from the dead!
+ He took that hand--it trembled--now too late--
+ So soft in love--so wildly nerved in hate;
+ He clasped that hand--it trembled--and his own
+ Had lost its firmness, and his voice its tone.
+ "Gulnare!"--but she replied not--"dear Gulnare!"[ii]
+ She raised her eye--her only answer there-- 1710
+ At once she sought and sunk in his embrace:
+ If he had driven her from that resting-place,
+ His had been more or less than mortal heart,
+ But--good or ill--it bade her not depart.
+ Perchance, but for the bodings of his breast,
+ His latest virtue then had joined the rest.
+ Yet even Medora might forgive the kiss[ij]
+ That asked from form so fair no more than this,
+ The first, the last that Frailty stole from Faith--
+ To lips where Love had lavished all his breath, 1720
+ To lips--whose broken sighs such fragrance fling,
+ As he had fanned them freshly with his wing![ik]
+
+ XVIII.
+
+ They gain by twilight's hour their lonely isle.
+ To them the very rocks appear to smile;
+ The haven hums with many a cheering sound,
+ The beacons blaze their wonted stations round,
+ The boats are darting o'er the curly bay,
+ And sportive Dolphins bend them through the spray;
+ Even the hoarse sea-bird's shrill, discordant shriek,
+ Greets like the welcome of his tuneless beak! 1730
+ Beneath each lamp that through its lattice gleams,
+ Their fancy paints the friends that trim the beams.
+ Oh! what can sanctify the joys of home,
+ Like Hope's gay glance from Ocean's troubled foam?[il]
+
+ XIX.
+
+ The lights are high on beacon and from bower,
+ And 'midst them Conrad seeks Medora's tower:
+ He looks in vain--'tis strange--and all remark,
+ Amid so many, hers alone is dark.
+ 'Tis strange--of yore its welcome never failed,
+ Nor now, perchance, extinguished--only veiled. 1740
+ With the first boat descends he for the shore,
+ And looks impatient on the lingering oar.
+ Oh! for a wing beyond the falcon's flight,
+ To bear him like an arrow to that height!
+ With the first pause the resting rowers gave,
+ He waits not--looks not--leaps into the wave,
+ Strives through the surge, bestrides the beach, and high
+ Ascends the path familiar to his eye.
+
+ He reached his turret door--he paused--no sound
+ Broke from within; and all was night around. 1750
+ He knocked, and loudly--footstep nor reply
+ Announced that any heard or deemed him nigh:
+ He knocked, but faintly--for his trembling hand
+ Refused to aid his heavy heart's demand.
+ The portal opens--'tis a well known face--
+ But not the form he panted to embrace.
+ Its lips are silent--twice his own essayed,
+ And failed to frame the question they delayed;
+ He snatched the lamp--its light will answer all--
+ It quits his grasp, expiring in the fall. 1760
+ He would not wait for that reviving ray--
+ As soon could he have lingered there for day;
+ But, glimmering through the dusky corridor,
+ Another chequers o'er the shadowed floor;
+ His steps the chamber gain--his eyes behold
+ All that his heart believed not--yet foretold!
+
+ XX.
+
+ He turned not--spoke not--sunk not--fixed his look,
+ And set the anxious frame that lately shook:
+ He gazed--how long we gaze despite of pain,
+ And know, but dare not own, we gaze in vain! 1770
+ In life itself she was so still and fair,
+ That Death with gentler aspect withered there;
+ And the cold flowers[235] her colder hand contained,
+ In that last grasp as tenderly were strained
+ As if she scarcely felt, but feigned a sleep--
+ And made it almost mockery yet to weep:
+ The long dark lashes fringed her lids of snow,
+ And veiled--Thought shrinks from all that lurked below--Oh!
+ o'er the eye Death most exerts his might,[236]
+ And hurls the Spirit from her throne of light; 1780
+ Sinks those blue orbs in that long last eclipse,
+ But spares, as yet, the charm around her lips--
+ Yet, yet they seem as they forebore to smile,
+ And wished repose,--but only for a while;
+ But the white shroud, and each extended tress,
+ Long, fair--but spread in utter lifelessness,
+ Which, late the sport of every summer wind,
+ Escaped the baffled wreath that strove to bind;[im]
+ These--and the pale pure cheek, became the bier--
+ But She is nothing--wherefore is he here? 1790
+
+ XXI.
+
+ He asked no question--all were answered now
+ By the first glance on that still, marble brow.[in]
+ It was enough--she died--what recked it how?
+ The love of youth, the hope of better years,
+ The source of softest wishes, tenderest fears,
+ The only living thing he could not hate,
+ Was reft at once--and he deserved his fate,
+ But did not feel it less;--the Good explore,
+ For peace, those realms where Guilt can never soar:
+ The proud, the wayward--who have fixed below 1800
+ Their joy, and find this earth enough for woe,
+ Lose in that one their all--perchance a mite--
+ But who in patience parts with all delight?
+ Full many a stoic eye and aspect stern
+ Mask hearts where Grief hath little left to learn;
+ And many a withering thought lies hid, not lost,
+ In smiles that least befit who wear them most.
+
+ XXII.
+
+ By those, that deepest feel, is ill exprest
+ The indistinctness of the suffering breast;
+ Where thousand thoughts begin to end in one, 1810
+ Which seeks from all the refuge found in none;
+ No words suffice the secret soul to show,
+ For Truth denies all eloquence to Woe.
+ On Conrad's stricken soul Exhaustion prest,
+ And Stupor almost lulled it into rest;
+ So feeble now--his mother's softness crept
+ To those wild eyes, which like an infant's wept:
+ It was the very weakness of his brain,
+ Which thus confessed without relieving pain.
+ None saw his trickling tears--perchance, if seen, 1820
+ That useless flood of grief had never been:
+ Nor long they flowed--he dried them to depart,
+ In helpless--hopeless--brokenness of heart:
+ The Sun goes forth, but Conrad's day is dim:
+ And the night cometh--ne'er to pass from him.[io]
+ There is no darkness like the cloud of mind,
+ On Grief's vain eye--the blindest of the blind!
+ Which may not--dare not see--but turns aside
+ To blackest shade--nor will endure a guide!
+
+ XXIII.[237]
+
+ His heart was formed for softness--warped to wrong, 1830
+ Betrayed too early, and beguiled too long;
+ Each feeling pure--as falls the dropping dew
+ Within the grot--like that had hardened too;
+ Less clear, perchance, its earthly trials passed,
+ But sunk, and chilled, and petrified at last.[238]
+ Yet tempests wear, and lightning cleaves the rock;
+ If such his heart, so shattered it the shock.
+ There grew one flower beneath its rugged brow,
+ Though dark the shade--it sheltered--saved till now.
+ The thunder came--that bolt hath blasted both, 1840
+ The Granite's firmness, and the Lily's growth:
+ The gentle plant hath left no leaf to tell
+ Its tale, but shrunk and withered where it fell;
+ And of its cold protector, blacken round
+ But shivered fragments on the barren ground!
+
+ XXIV.
+
+ 'Tis morn--to venture on his lonely hour
+ Few dare; though now Anselmo sought his tower.
+ He was not there, nor seen along the shore;
+ Ere night, alarmed, their isle is traversed o'er:
+ Another morn--another bids them seek, 1850
+ And shout his name till Echo waxeth weak;
+ Mount--grotto--cavern--valley searched in vain,
+ They find on shore a sea-boat's broken chain:
+ Their hope revives--they follow o'er the main.
+ 'Tis idle all--moons roll on moons away,
+ And Conrad comes not, came not since that day:
+ Nor trace nor tidings of his doom declare
+ Where lives his grief, or perished his despair!
+ Long mourned his band whom none could mourn beside;
+ And fair the monument they gave his Bride: 1860
+ For him they raise not the recording stone--
+ His death yet dubious, deeds too widely known;
+ He left a Corsair's name to other times,
+ Linked with one virtue, and a thousand crimes.[239]
+
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[194] {223} [This political allusion having been objected to by a
+friend, Byron composed a second dedication, which he sent to Moore, with
+a request that he would "take his choice." Moore chose the original
+dedication, which was accordingly prefixed to the First Edition. The
+alternative ran as follows:--
+
+"_January_ 7th, 1814.
+
+My dear Moore,
+
+I had written to you a long letter of dedication, which I suppress,
+because, though it contained something relating to you, which every one
+had been glad to hear, yet there was too much about politics and poesy,
+and all things whatsoever, ending with that topic on which most men are
+fluent, and none very amusing,--_one's self_. It might have been
+re-written; but to what purpose? My praise could add nothing to your
+well-earned and firmly established fame; and with my most hearty
+admiration of your talents, and delight in your conversation, you are
+already acquainted. In availing myself of your friendly permission to
+inscribe this poem to you, I can only wish the offering were as worthy
+your acceptance, as your regard is dear to
+ Yours, most affectionately and faithfully,
+ Byron."]
+
+[195] {224} [After the words, "Scott alone," Byron had inserted, in a
+parenthesis, "He will excuse the '_Mr_.'--we do not say _Mr_. Cæsar."]
+
+[196] {225} ["It is difficult to say whether we are to receive this
+passage as an admission or a denial of the opinion to which it refers;
+but Lord Byron certainly did the public injustice, if he supposed it
+imputed to him the criminal actions with which many of his heroes were
+stained. Men no more expected to meet in Lord Byron the Corsair, who
+'knew himself a villain,' than they looked for the hypocrisy of Kehama
+on the shores of the Derwent Water; yet even in the features of Conrad,
+those who had looked on Lord Byron will recognize the likeness--
+
+ "'To the sight
+ No giant frame sets forth his common height;
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Sun-burnt his cheek, his forehead high and pale
+ The sable curls in wild profusion veil....'"
+ Canto I. stanza ix.
+
+--Sir Walter Scott, _Quart. Rev_., No. xxxi. October, 1816.]
+
+[197] {227} The time in this poem may seem too short for the
+occurrences, but the whole of the Ægean isles are within a few hours'
+sail of the continent, and the reader must be kind enough to take the
+_wind_ as I have often found it.
+
+[198] [Compare--"Survey the region, and confess her home." _Windsor
+Forest_, by A. Pope, line 256.]
+
+[hk] {228} _Protract to age his painful doting day_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[hl] {230} _Her nation--flag--how tells the telescope_.--[MS.]
+
+[199] [Compare _The Isle of Palms_, by John Wilson, Canto I. (1812, p.
+8)--
+
+ "She sailed amid the loveliness
+ Like a thing with heart and mind."]
+
+[hm] {231} _Till creaks her keel upon the shallow sand_.--[MS.]
+
+[hn] {234} _The haughtier thought his bosom ill conceals_.--[MS.]
+
+[ho]
+ _He had the skill when prying souls would seek,_
+ _To watch his words and trace his pensive cheek_.--[MS.]
+ _His was the skill when prying, etc_.--[Revise.]
+
+[200] {235} That Conrad is a character not altogether out of nature, I
+shall attempt to prove by some historical coincidences which I have met
+with since writing _The Corsair_.
+
+"Eccelin, prisonnier," dit Rolandini, "s'enfermoit dans un silence
+menaçant; il fixoit sur la terre son visage féroce, et ne donnoit point
+d'essor à sa profonde indignation. De toutes partes cependant les
+soldats et les peuples accouroient; ils vouloient voir cet homme, jadis
+si puissant ... et la joie universelle éclatoit de toutes partes....
+Eccelino étoit d'une petite taille; mais tout l'aspect de sa personne,
+tous ses mouvemens, indiquoient un soldat. Son langage étoit amer, son
+déportement superbe, et par son seul regard, il faisoit trembler les
+plus hardis."--Simonde de Sismondi, _Histoire des Républiques Italiennes
+du Moyen Age_, 1809, iii. 219.
+
+Again, "Gizericus [Genseric, king of the Vandals, the conqueror of both
+Carthage and Rome] ... staturâ mediocris, et equi casu claudicans, animo
+profundus, sermone ratus, luxuriæ contemptor, irâ turbidus, habendi
+cupidus, ad sollicitandas gentes providentissimus," etc.,
+etc.--Jornandes, _De Getarum Origine_ ("De Rebus Geticis"), cap. 33,
+_ed._ 1597, p. 92.
+
+I beg leave to quote those gloomy realities to keep in countenance my
+Giaour and Corsair.--[Added to the Ninth Edition.]
+
+[201] [Stanza x. was an after-thought. It is included in a sixth revise,
+in which lines 244-246 have been erased, and the present reading
+superscribed. A seventh revise gives the text as above.]
+
+[hp] {236}
+ _Released but to convulse or freeze or glow!_
+ _Fire in the veins, or damps upon the brow_.--[MS.]
+
+[hq]
+ _Behold his soul once seen not soon forgot!_
+ _All that there burns its hour away--but sears_
+ _The scathed Remembrance of long coming years_.--[MS.]
+
+[202] {237} [Lines 277-280 are not in the MS. They were inserted on a
+detached printed sheet, with a view to publication in the Seventh
+Edition.]
+
+[hr] {238} _Not Guilt itself could quench this earliest one_.--[MS.
+erased.]
+
+[hs] {239}
+ _Now to Francesca_.--[MS.]
+ _Now to Ginevra_.--[Revise of January 6, 1814.]
+ _Now to Medora_.--[Revise of January 15, 1814.]
+
+[ht] _Yet heed my prayer--my latest accents hear_.--[MS.]
+
+[203] [Compare--
+
+ "He gave to Misery all he had, a tear,
+ He gained from Heaven ('twas all he wished) a friend."
+ Gray's _Elegy in a Country Churchyard._]
+
+[204] {243} [For Bireno's desertion of Olympia, see] _Orlando Funoso_,
+Canto X. [stanzas 1-27].
+
+[hu] {244}
+ _Oh! he could bear no more--but madly grasped_
+ _Her form--and trembling there his own unclasped_.--[MS.]
+
+[205] {247} By night, particularly in a warm latitude, every stroke of
+the oar, every motion of the boat or ship, is followed by a slight flash
+like sheet lightning from the water.
+
+[206] {248} [Cape Gallo is at least eight miles to the south of Corone;
+but Point Lividia, the promontory on which part of the town is built,
+can hardly be described as a "jutting cape," or as (see line 1623) a
+"giant shape."]
+
+[207] {249} [Coron, or Corone, the ancient Colonides, is situated a
+little to the north of a promontory, Point Lividia, on the western shore
+of the Gulf of Kalamata, or Coron, or Messenia.
+
+Antoine Louis Castellan (1772-1838), with whose larger work on Turkey
+Byron professed himself familiar (Letter to Moore, August 28, 1813),
+gives a vivid description of Coron and the bey's palace in his _Lettres
+sur la Morée, etc_. (first published, Paris, 1808), 3 vols., 1820.
+Whether Byron had or had not consulted the "Letters," the following
+passages may help to illustrate the scene:--
+
+ "La châine caverneuse du Taygete s'élève en face de Coron, à
+ l'autre extrémité du golfe" (iii. 181).
+
+ "Nous avons aussi été faire une visite au bey, qui nous a permis de
+ parcourir la citadelle" (p. 187).
+
+ "Le bey fait a exécuter en notre présence une danse singuliére,
+ qu'on peut nommer danse pantomime" (p. 189; see line 642).
+
+ "La maison est assez bien distribuée et proprement meublée à la
+ manière des Turcs. La principale pièce est grande, ornée d'une
+ boisserie ciselée sur les dessins arabesques, et même marquetée.
+ Les fenêtres donnent sur le jardin ... les volets sont
+ ordinairement fermés, dans le milieu de la journée, et le jour ne
+ pénètre alors qu'a travers des ouvertures pratiquées, au dessus des
+ fenêtres et garnis de vitraux colorés" (p. 200).
+
+Castellan saw the palace and bay illuminated (p. 203).]
+
+[208] {250} Coffee.
+
+[209] "Chibouque" [chibûk], pipe.
+
+[210] {251} Dancing girls. [Compare _The Waltz_, line 127, _Poetical
+Works_, 1898, i. 492, note 1.]
+
+[211] It has been observed, that Conrad's entering disguised as a spy is
+out of nature. Perhaps so. I find something not unlike it in
+history.--"Anxious to explore with his own eyes the state of the
+Vandals, Majorian ventured, after disguising the colour of his hair, to
+visit Carthage in the character of his own ambassador; and Genseric was
+afterwards mortified by the discovery, that he had entertained and
+dismissed the Emperor of the Romans. Such an anecdote may be rejected as
+an improbable fiction; but it is a fiction which would not have been
+imagined unless in the life of a hero."--See Gibbon's _Decline and Fall_
+[1854, iv. 272.]
+
+[212] {252} [On the coast of Asia Minor, twenty-one miles south of
+Smyrna.]
+
+[213] [A Levantine bark--"a kind of ketch without top-gallant sail, or
+mizzen-top sail."]
+
+[214] {254} [Compare the _Giaour_, line 343, note 2; _vide ante_, p.
+102.]
+
+[215] The Dervises [Dervish, Persian _darvesh_, poor] are in colleges,
+and of different orders, as the monks.
+
+[216] {255} "Zatanai," Satan. [Probably a phonetic rendering o [Greek:
+satana(s).] The Turkish form would be _sheytan_. Compare letter to
+Moore, April 9, 1814, _Letters_, 1899, iii. 66, note 1.]
+
+[217] {256} A common and not very novel effect of Mussulman anger. See
+Prince Eugene's _Mémoires_, 1811, p. 6, "The Seraskier received a wound
+in the thigh; he plucked up his beard by the roots, because he was
+obliged to quit the field." ["Le séraskier est blessé a la cuisse; il
+s'arrache la barbe, parce qu'il est obligé de fuir." A contemporary
+translation (Sherwood, Neely, and Jones, 1811), renders "il s'arrache la
+barbe" _he tore out the arrow_.]
+
+[218] {257} Gulnare, a female name; it means, literally, the flower of
+the pomegranate.
+
+[219] {259} [The word "to" had been left out by the printer, and in a
+late revise Byron supplies the omission, and writes--
+
+ "To Mr. Murray or Mr. Davison.
+
+ "Do not omit words--it is quite enough to alter or mis-spell them.
+
+ "Bn."
+
+In the MS. the line ran--
+
+ "To send his soul--he scarcely cared to Heaven."
+
+"Asked" is written over in pencil, but "cared" has not been erased.]
+
+[220] {261} [Compare--"One _anarchy_, one _chaos_ of the _mind_." _The
+Wanderer_, by Richard Savage, Canto V. (1761, p. 86).]
+
+[221] {262} [Compare--"That hideous sight, a _naked_ human heart."
+_Night Thoughts_, by Edward Young (Night III.) (Anderson's _British
+Poets_, x. 71).]
+
+[222] {263} [Compare--
+
+ "When half the world lay wrapt in sleepless night,
+ A jarring sound the startled hero wakes.
+ * * * * *
+ He hears a step draw near--in beauty's pride
+ A female comes--wide floats her glistening gown--
+ Her hand sustains a lamp...."
+ Wieland's _Oberon_, translated by W. Sotheby,
+ Canto XII. stanza xxxi., _et seq_.]
+
+[223] {265} In Sir Thomas More, for instance, on the scaffold, and Anne
+Boleyn, in the Tower, when, grasping her neck, she remarked, that it
+"was too slender to trouble the headsman much." During one part of the
+French Revolution, it became a fashion to leave some "_mot_" as a
+legacy; and the quantity of facetious last words spoken during that
+period would form a melancholy jest-book of a considerable size.
+
+[hv] {268}
+ _I breathe but in the hope--his altered breast_
+ _May seek another--and have mine at rest._
+ _Or if unwonted fondness now I feign_.{A}--[MS.]
+
+{A}[The alteration was sent to the publishers on a separate quarto
+sheet, with a memorandum, "In Canto _first_--nearly the end," etc.--a
+rare instance of inaccuracy on the part of the author.]
+
+[224] {270} The opening lines, as far as section ii., have, perhaps,
+little business here, and were annexed to an unpublished (though
+printed) poem [_The Curse of Minerva_]; but they were written on the
+spot, in the Spring of 1811, and--I scarce know why--the reader must
+excuse their appearance here--if he can. [See letter to Murray, October
+23, 1812.]
+
+[225] [See _Curse of Minerva_, line 7, _Poetical Works_, 1898, i. 457.
+For Hydra, see A. L. Castellan's _Lettres sur la Morée_, 1820, i.
+155-176. He gives (p. 174) a striking description of a _sunrise_ off the
+Cape of Sunium.]
+
+[226] {271} Socrates drank the hemlock a short time before sunset (the
+hour of execution), notwithstanding the entreaties of his disciples to
+wait till the sun went down.
+
+[227] The twilight in Greece is much shorter than in our own country:
+the days in winter are longer, but in summer of shorter duration.
+
+[228] {272} The Kiosk is a Turkish summer house: the palm is without the
+present walls of Athens, not far from the temple of Theseus, between
+which and the tree, the wall intervenes.--Cephisus' stream is indeed
+scanty, and Ilissus has no stream at all.
+
+[E. Dodwell (_Classical Tour_, 1819, i. 371) speaks of "a magnificent
+palm tree, which shoots among the ruins of the Ptolemaion," a short
+distance to the east of the Theseion. There is an illustration in its
+honour. The Theseion--which was "within five minutes' walk" of Byron's
+lodgings (_Travels in Albania_, 1858, i. 259)--contains the remains of
+the scholar, John Tweddell, died 1793, "over which a stone was placed,
+owing to the exertions of Lord Byron" (Clarke's _Travels_, Part II.
+sect. i. p. 534). When Byron died, Colonel Stanhope proposed, and the
+chief Odysseus decreed, that he should be buried in the same
+spot.--_Life_, p. 640.]
+
+[229] {273} [After the battle of Salamis, B.C. 480, Paros fell under the
+dominion of Athens.]
+
+[hw] {274}
+ _They gather round and each his aid supplies_.--[MS.]
+
+[hx] {275}
+ _Within that cave Debate waxed warm and strange_.--[_MS_.]
+ _Loud in the cave Debate waxed warm and strange_.--
+ [_January_ 6, 1814.]
+ _In that dark Council words waxed warm and strange_.--
+ [_January_ 13, 1814.]
+
+[230] [Lines 1299-1375 were written after the completion of the poem.
+They were forwarded to the publisher in time for insertion in a revise
+dated January 6, 1814.]
+
+[231] The comboloio, or Mahometan rosary; the beads are in number
+ninety-nine. [_Vide ante_, p. 181, _The Bride of Abydos_, Canto II. line
+554.]
+
+[hy] {276}
+ _Methinks a short release by ransom wrought_
+ _Of all his treasures not too cheaply bought_.--[MS. erased.]
+ _Methinks a short release for ransom--gold_.--[MS.]
+
+[hz] {277}
+ _Of thine adds certainty to all I heard_.--[MS.]
+
+[ia] {278}
+ _When every coming hour might view him dead_.--[MS.]
+
+[232] ["By the way--I have a charge against you. As the great Mr. Dennis
+roared out on a similar occasion--'By G-d, _that_ is _my_ thunder!' so
+do I exclaim, '_This_ is _my_ lightning!' I allude to a speech of
+Ivan's, in the scene with Petrowna and the Empress, where the thought
+and almost expression are similar to Conrad's in the 3d canto of _The
+Corsair_. I, however, do not say this to accuse you, but to exempt
+myself from suspicion, as there is a priority of six months'
+publication, on my part, between the appearance of that composition and
+of your tragedies" (Letter to W. Sotheby, September 25, 1815, _Letters_,
+1899, iii. 219). The following are the lines in question:--
+
+ "And I have leapt
+ In transport from my flinty couch, to welcome
+ The thunder as it burst upon my roof,
+ And beckon'd to the lightning, as it flash'd
+ And sparkled on these fetters."
+ Act iv. sc. 3 (_Ivan_, 1816, p. 64).
+
+According to Moore, this passage in _The Corsair_, as Byron seemed to
+fear, was included by "some scribblers"--i.e. the "lumbering Goth" (see
+John Bull's Letter), A. A. Watts, in the _Literary Gazette_, February
+and March, 1821--among his supposed plagiarisms. Sotheby informed Moore
+that his lines had been written, though not published, before the
+appearance of the _Corsair_. The _Confession_, and _Orestes_, reappeared
+with three hitherto unpublished tragedies, _Ivan_, _The Death of
+Darnley_, and _Zamorin and Zama_, under the general title, _Five
+Unpublished Tragedies_, in 1814.
+
+The story of the critic John Dennis (1657-1734) and the "thunder" is
+related in Cibber's _Lives_, iv. 234. Dennis was, or feigned to be, the
+inventor of a new method of producing stage-thunder, by troughs of wood
+and stops. Shortly after a play (_Appius and Virginia_) which he had put
+upon the stage had been withdrawn, he was present at a performance of
+_Macbeth_, at which the new "thunder" was inaugurated. "That is _my_
+thunder, by God!" exclaimed Dennis. "The villains will play my thunder,
+but not my plays."--_Dict. Nat. Biog._, art. "Dennis."]
+
+[ib] {282}
+ _But speak not now--on thine and on my head_
+ _O'erhangs the sabre_----.--[MS.]
+
+[ic] {284}
+ _Night wears apace--and I have need of rest_.--[MS.]
+
+[id] {286} A variant of lines 1596, 1597 first appeared in MS. in a
+revise numbering 1780 lines--
+
+ _Blood he had viewed, could view unmoved--but then_
+ _It reddened on the scarfs and swords of men._
+
+In a later revise line 1597 was altered to--
+
+ _It flowed a token of the deeds of men._
+
+[ie] {287} _His silent thoughts the present, past review._--[MS.
+erased.]
+
+[if] _Fell quenched in tears of more than misery._--[MS.]
+
+[ig] {288} _They count the Dragon-teeth around her tier_.--[MS.]
+
+[233] ["Tier" must stand for "hold." The "cable-tier" is the place in
+the hold where the cable is stowed.]
+
+[ih] {289} _Whom blood appalled not, their rude eyes perplex_.--[MS.
+erased.]
+
+[234] [Compare--
+
+ "And I the cause--for whom were given
+ Her peace on earth, her hopes in heaven."
+ _Marmion_, Canto III. stanza xvii. lines 9, 10.]
+
+[ii] {290}
+ _"Gulnare"--she answered not again--"Gulnare"_
+ _She raised her glance--her sole reply was there_.--[M.S.]
+
+[ij]
+ _That sought from form so fair no more than this_
+ _That kiss--the first that Frailty wrung from Faith_
+ _That last--on lips so warm with rosy breath_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[ik] _As he had fanned them with his rosy wing_.--[MS.]
+
+[il] {291}
+ _Oh! none so prophesy the joys of home_
+ _As they who hail it from the Ocean-foam_.--[MS.]
+ _Oh--what can sanctify the joys of home_
+ _Like the first glance from Ocean's troubled foam_.--[Revise.]
+
+[235] {292} In the Levant it is the custom to strew flowers on the
+bodies of the dead, and in the hands of young persons to place a
+nosegay.
+
+[Compare--"There shut it inside the sweet cold hand." _Evelyn Hope_, by
+Robert Browning.]
+
+[236] {293} [Compare--"And--but for that sad shrouded eye," etc. and the
+whole of the famous passage in the _Giaour_ (line 68, sq., _vide ante_,
+p. 88), beginning--"He who hath bent him o'er the dead."]
+
+[im] _Escaped the idle braid that could not bind_.--[MS.]
+
+[in] _By the first glance on that cold soulless brow_.--[MS.]
+
+[io] {294} _And the night cometh--'tis the same to him_.--[M.S.]
+
+[237] [Stanza xxiii. is not in the MS. It was forwarded on a separate
+sheet, with the following directions:--(1814, January 10, 11.) "Let the
+following lines be sent immediately, and form the _last section_ (number
+it) _but one_ of the _3^rd^_ (last) Canto."]
+
+[238] {295} [Byron had, perhaps, explored the famous stalactite cavern
+in the island of Anti-Paros, which is described by Tournefort, Clarke,
+Choiseul-Gouffier, and other travellers.]
+
+[239] {296} That the point of honour which is represented in one
+instance of Conrad's character has not been carried beyond the bounds of
+probability, may perhaps be in some degree confirmed by the following
+anecdote of a brother buccaneer in the year 1814:--"Our readers have all
+seen the account of the enterprise against the pirates of Barataria; but
+few, we believe, were informed of the situation, history, or nature of
+that establishment. For the information of such as were unacquainted
+with it, we have procured from a friend the following interesting
+narrative of the main facts, of which he has personal knowledge, and
+which cannot fail to interest some of our readers:--Barataria is a
+bayou, or a narrow arm of the Gulf of Mexico; it runs through a rich but
+very flat country, until it reaches within a mile of the Mississippi
+river, fifteen miles below the city of New Orleans. This bayou has
+branches almost innumerable, in which persons can lie concealed from the
+severest scrutiny. It communicates with three lakes which lie on the
+south-west side, and these, with the lake of the same name, and which
+lies contiguous to the sea, where there is an island formed by the two
+arms of this lake and the sea. The east and west points of this island
+were fortified, in the year 1811, by a band of pirates, under the
+command of one Monsieur La Fitte. A large majority of these outlaws are
+of that class of the population of the state of Louisiana who fled from
+the island of St. Domingo during the troubles there, and took refuge in
+the island of Cuba; and when the last war between France and Spain
+commenced, they were compelled to leave that island with the short
+notice of a few days. Without ceremony they entered the United States,
+the most of them the state of Louisiana, with all the negroes they had
+possessed in Cuba. They were notified by the Governor of that State of
+the clause in the constitution which forbade the importation of slaves;
+but, at the same time, received the assurance of the Governor that he
+would obtain, if possible, the approbation of the General Government for
+their retaining this property.--The island of Barataria is situated
+about lat. 29 deg. 15 min., lon. 92. 30.; and is as remarkable for its
+health as for the superior scale and shell fish with which its waters
+abound. The chief of this horde, like Charles de Moor, had, mixed with
+his many vices, some transcendant virtues. In the year 1813, this party
+had, from its turpitude and boldness, claimed the attention of the
+Governor of Louisiana; and to break up the establishment he thought
+proper to strike at the head. He therefore, offered a reward of 500
+dollars for the head of Monsieur La Fitte, who was well known to the
+inhabitants of the city of New Orleans, from his immediate connection,
+and his once having been a fencing-master in that city of great
+reputation, which art he learnt in Buonaparte's army, where he was a
+captain. The reward which was offered by the Governor for the head of La
+Fitte was answered by the offer of a reward from the latter of 15,000
+for the head of the Governor. The Governor ordered out a company to
+march from the city to La Fitte's island, and to burn and destroy all
+the property, and to bring to the city of New Orleans all his banditti.
+This company, under the command of a man who had been the intimate
+associate of this bold Captain, approached very near to the fortified
+island, before he saw a man, or heard a sound, until he heard a whistle,
+not unlike a boatswain's call. Then it was he found himself surrounded
+by armed men who had emerged from the secret avenues which led to this
+bayou. Here it was that this modern Charles de Moor developed his few
+noble traits; for to this man, who had come to destroy his life and all
+that was dear to him, he not only spared his life, but offered him that
+which would have made the honest soldier easy for the remainder of his
+days, which was indignantly refused. He then, with the approbation of
+his captor, returned to the city. This circumstance, and some
+concomitant events, proved that this band of pirates was not to be taken
+by land. Our naval force having always been small in that quarter,
+exertions for the destruction of this illicit establishment could not be
+expected from them until augmented; for an officer of the navy, with
+most of the gun-boats on that station, had to retreat from an
+overwhelming force of La Fitte's. So soon as the augmentation of the
+navy authorised an attack, one was made; the overthrow of this banditti
+has been the result: and now this almost invulnerable point and key to
+New Orleans is clear of an enemy, it is to be hoped the government will
+hold it by a strong military force."--American Newspaper.
+
+[The story of the "Pirates of Barataria," which an American print, the
+_National Intelligencer_, was the first to make public, is quoted _in
+extenso_ by the _Weekly Messenger_ (published at Boston) of November 4,
+1814. It is remarkable that a tale which was destined to pass into the
+domain of historical romance should have been instantly seized upon and
+turned to account by Byron, whilst it was as yet half-told, while the
+legend was still in the making. Jean Lafitte, the Franco-American
+Conrad, was born either at Bayonne or Bordeaux, circ. 1780, emigrated
+with his elder brother Pierre, and settled at New Orleans, in 1809, as a
+blacksmith. Legitimate trade was flat, but the delta of the Mississippi,
+with its labyrinth of creeks and islands and _bayous_, teemed with
+pirates or merchant-smugglers. Accordingly, under the nominal sanction
+of letters of marque from the Republic of Cartagena, and as belligerents
+of Spain, the brothers, who had taken up their quarters on Grande Terre,
+an island to the east of the "Grand Pass," or channel of the Bay of
+Barataria, swept the Gulph of Mexico with an organised flotilla of
+privateers, and acquired vast booty in the way of specie and living
+cargoes of claves. Hence the proclamation of the Governor of Louisiana,
+W. C. C. Claiborne, in which (November 24, 1813) he offered a sum of
+$500 for the capture of Jean Lafitte. For the sequel of this first act
+of the drama the "American newspaper" is the sole authority. The facts,
+however, if facts they be, which are pieced together by Charles Étienne
+Arthur Gayarré, in the _History of Louisiana_ (1885, iv. 301, sq.), and
+in two articles contributed to the American _Magazine of History_,
+October and November, 1883, are as curious and romantic as the legend.
+It would appear that early in September, 1814, a British officer,
+Colonel E. Nicholls, made overtures to Jean Lafitte, offering him the
+rank of captain in the British army, a grant of lands, and a sum of
+$30,000 if he would join forces with the British squadron then engaged
+in an attack on the coast of Louisiana. Lafitte begged for time to
+consider Colonel Nicholls's proposal, but immediately put himself in
+communication with Claiborne, offering, on condition of immunity for
+past offences, to place his resources at the disposal of the United
+States. Claiborne's reply to this patriotic offer seems to have been to
+despatch a strong naval force, under Commander Daniel Patterson, with
+orders to exterminate the pirates, and seize their fort on Grande Terre;
+and, on this occasion, though the brothers escaped, the authorities were
+successful. A proclamation was issued by General Andrew Jackson, in
+which the pirates were denounced as "hellish banditti," and, to all
+appearances, their career was at an end. But circumstances were in their
+favour, and a few weeks later Jackson not only went back on his own
+mandate, but accepted the alliance and services of the brothers Lafitte
+and their captains at the siege of New Orleans, January 8, 1815.
+Finally, when peace with Great Britain was concluded, President Madison
+publicly acknowledged the "unequivocal traits of courage and fidelity"
+which had been displayed by the brothers Lafitte, and the once
+proscribed band of outlaws. Thenceforth Pierre Lafitte disappears from
+history; but Jean is believed to have settled first at Galveston, in
+Texas, and afterwards, in 1820, on the coast of Yucatan, whence "he
+continued his depredations on Spanish commerce." He died game, a pirate
+to the last, in 1826. See, for what purports to be documentary evidence
+of the correspondence between Colonel E. Nicholls and Jean Lafitte,
+_Historical Memoirs of the War in West Florida and Louisiana_, by Major
+A. La Carriére Latour, 1816, Appendix III. pp. vii.-xv. See, too,
+_Fernando de Lemos_ (an historical novel), by Charles Gayarré, 1872, pp.
+347-361.]
+
+In [the Rev. Mark] Noble's continuation of "Granger's _Biographical
+History_" [_of England_, 1806, iii. 68], there is a singular passage in
+his account of Archbishop Blackbourne [1658-1743]; and as in some
+measure connected with the profession of the hero of the foregoing poem,
+I cannot resist the temptation of extracting it.--"There is something
+mysterious in the history and character of Dr. Blackbourne. The former
+is but imperfectly known; and report has even asserted he was a
+buccaneer; and that one of his brethren in that profession having asked,
+on his arrival in England, what had become of his old chum, Blackbourne,
+was answered, he is Archbishop of York. We are informed, that
+Blackbourne was installed sub-dean of Exeter in 1694, which office he
+resigned in 1702; but after his successor Lewis Barnet's death, in 1704,
+he regained it. In the following year he became dean; and in 1714 held
+with it the archdeanery [i.e. archdeaconry] of Cornwall. He was
+consecrated Bishop of Exeter, February 24, 1716; and translated to York,
+November 28, 1724, as a reward, according to court scandal, for uniting
+George I. to the Duchess of Munster. This, however, appears to have been
+an unfounded calumny. As archbishop he behaved with great prudence, and
+was equally respectable as the guardian of the revenues of the see.
+Rumour whispered he retained the vices of his youth, and that a passion
+for the fair sex formed an item in the list of his weaknesses; but so
+far from being convicted by seventy witnesses, he does not appear to
+have been directly criminated by one. In short, I look upon these
+aspersions as the effects of mere malice. How is it possible a buccaneer
+should have been so good a scholar as Blackbourne certainly was? He who
+had so perfect a knowledge of the classics (particularly of the Greek
+tragedians), as to be able to read them with the same ease as he could
+Shakespeare, must have taken great pains to acquire the learned
+languages; and have had both leisure and good masters. But he was
+undoubtedly educated at Christ-church College, Oxford. He is allowed to
+have been a pleasant man; this, however, was turned against him, by its
+being said, 'he gained more hearts than souls.'"
+
+[Walpole, in his _Memoirs of the Reign of King George II._, 1847, i. 87,
+who makes himself the mouthpiece of these calumnies, says that Hayter,
+Bishop of Norwich, was "a natural son of Blackbourne, the jolly old
+Archbishop of York, who had all the manners of a man of quality, though
+he had been a Buccaneer, and was a clergyman; but he retained nothing of
+his first profession except his seraglio."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"The only voice that could soothe the passions of the savage (Alphonso
+III.) was that of an amiable and virtuous wife, the sole object of his
+love; the voice of Donna Isabella, the daughter of the Duke of Savoy,
+and the grand-daughter of Philip II. King of Spain. Her dying words sunk
+deep into his memory [A.D. 1626, August 22]; his fierce spirit melted
+into tears; and, after the last embrace, Alphonso retired into his
+chamber to bewail his irreparable loss, and to meditate on the vanity of
+human life."--Gibbon's _Miscellaneous Works_ [1837, p. 831].
+
+[This final note was added to the Tenth Edition.]
+
+
+
+
+ ODE TO NAPOLEON
+
+ BUONAPARTE.[240]
+
+ "Expende Annibalem:--quot libras in duce summo Invenies?"
+ Juvenal, [Lib. iv.] _Sat._ x. line 147.[241]
+
+"The Emperor Nepos was acknowledged by the _Senate_, by the _Italians_,
+and by the Provincials of _Gaul_; his moral virtues, and military
+talents, were loudly celebrated; and those who derived any private
+benefit from his government announced in prophetic strains the
+restoration of the public felicity. * * By this shameful abdication, he
+protracted his life about five years, in a very ambiguous state, between
+an Emperor and an Exile, till!!!"--Gibbon's _Decline and Fall_, two
+vols. notes by Milman, i. 979.[242]
+
+
+
+
+ INTRODUCTION TO THE _ODE TO NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE._
+
+
+The dedication of the _Corsair_, dated January 2, 1814, contains one of
+Byron's periodical announcements that he is about, for a time, to have
+done with authorship--some years are to elapse before he will again
+"trespass on public patience."
+
+Three months later he was, or believed himself to be, in the same mind.
+In a letter to Moore, dated April 9, 1814 (_Letters_, 1899, iii. 64), he
+writes, "No more rhyme for--or rather, _from_--me. I have taken my leave
+of that stage, and henceforth will mountebank it no longer." He had
+already--_Journal_, April 8 (_Letters_, 1898, ii. 408)--heard a rumour
+"that his poor little pagod, Napoleon" was "pushed off his pedestal,"
+and before or after he began his letter to Moore he must have read an
+announcement in the _Gazette Extraordinary_ (April 9, 1814--the
+abdication was signed April 11) that Napoleon had abdicated the "throne
+of the world," and declined upon the kingdom of Elba. On the next day,
+April 10, he wrote two notes to Murray, to inform him that he had
+written an "ode on the fall of Napoleon," that Murray could print it or
+not as he pleased; but that if it appeared by itself, it was to be
+published anonymously. A first edition consisting of fifteen stanzas,
+and numbering fourteen pages, was issued on the 16th of April, 1814. A
+second edition followed immediately, but as publications of less than a
+sheet were liable to the stamp tax on newspapers, at Murray's request,
+another stanza, the fifth, was inserted in a later (between the second
+and the twelfth) edition, and, by this means, the pamphlet was extended
+to seventeen pages. The concluding stanzas xvii., xviii., xix., which
+Moore gives in a note (_Life_, p. 249), were not printed in Byron's
+lifetime, but were first included, in a separate poem, in Murray's
+edition of 1831, and first appended to the Ode in the seventeen-volume
+edition of 1832.
+
+Although he had stipulated that the _Ode_ should be published
+anonymously, Byron had no objection to "its being said to be mine."
+There was, in short, no secret about it, and notices on the whole
+favourable appeared in the _Morning Chronicle_, April 21, in the
+_Examiner_, April 24 (in which Leigh Hunt combated Byron's condemnation
+of Buonaparte for not "dying as honour dies"), and in the _Anti-Jacobin_
+for May, 1814 (_Letters_, 1899, iii. 73, note 3).
+
+Byron's repeated resolutions and promises to cease writing and
+publishing, which sound as if they were only made to be broken, are
+somewhat exasperating, and if, as he pleaded in his own behalf, the
+occasion (of Napoleon's abdication) was _physically_ irresistible, it is
+to be regretted that he did not _swerve_ from his self-denying ordinance
+to better purpose. The note of disillusionment and disappointment in the
+_Ode_ is but an echo of the sentiments of the "general." Napoleon on his
+own "fall" is more original and more interesting: "Il céda," writes
+Léonard Gallois (_Histoire de Napoléon d'après lui-même_, 1825, pp. 546,
+547), "non sans de grands combats intérieurs, et la dicta en ces termes.
+
+ 'Les puissances alliées ayant proclamé que l'empereur Napoléon
+ était le seul obstacle au rétablissement, de la paix en Europe,
+ l'empereur Napoléon fidèle à son serment, déclare qu'il renonce,
+ pour lui et ses héritiers, aux trônes de France et d'Italie, parce
+ qu'il n'est aucun sacrifice personnel, même celui de la vie, qu'il
+ ne soit prêt à faire à l'intérêt de la France.
+
+ Napoléon.'"
+
+
+
+
+ ODE TO NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE.
+
+ I.
+
+ 'Tis done--but yesterday a King!
+ And armed with Kings to strive--
+ And now thou art a nameless thing:
+ So abject--yet alive!
+ Is this the man of thousand thrones,
+ Who strewed our earth with hostile bones,
+ And can he thus survive?[243]
+ Since he, miscalled the Morning Star,[244]
+ Nor man nor fiend hath fallen so far.
+
+ II.[245]
+
+ Ill-minded man! why scourge thy kind
+ Who bowed so low the knee?
+ By gazing on thyself grown blind,
+ Thou taught'st the rest to see.
+ With might unquestioned,--power to save,--
+ Thine only gift hath been the grave
+ To those that worshipped thee;
+ Nor till thy fall could mortals guess
+ Ambition's less than littleness!
+
+ III.
+
+ Thanks for that lesson--it will teach
+ To after-warriors more
+ Than high Philosophy can preach,
+ And vainly preached before.
+ That spell upon the minds of men[246]
+ Breaks never to unite again,
+ That led them to adore
+ Those Pagod things of sabre-sway,
+ With fronts of brass, and feet of clay.
+
+ IV.
+
+ The triumph, and the vanity,
+ The rapture of the strife--[247]
+ The earthquake-voice of Victory,
+ To thee the breath of life;
+ The sword, the sceptre, and that sway
+ Which man seemed made but to obey,
+ Wherewith renown was rife--
+ All quelled!--Dark Spirit! what must be
+ The madness of thy memory!
+
+ V.[248]
+
+ The Desolator desolate![249]
+ The Victor overthrown!
+ The Arbiter of others' fate
+ A Suppliant for his own!
+ Is it some yet imperial hope
+ That with such change can calmly cope?
+ Or dread of death alone?
+ To die a Prince--or live a slave--
+ Thy choice is most ignobly brave!
+
+ VI.
+
+ He who of old would rend the oak,
+ Dreamed not of the rebound;[250]
+ Chained by the trunk he vainly broke--
+ Alone--how looked he round?
+ Thou, in the sternness of thy strength,
+ An equal deed hast done at length.
+ And darker fate hast found:
+ He fell, the forest prowlers' prey;
+ But thou must eat thy heart away!
+
+ VII.
+
+ The Roman,[251] when his burning heart
+ Was slaked with blood of Rome,
+ Threw down the dagger--dared depart,
+ In savage grandeur, home.--
+ He dared depart in utter scorn
+ Of men that such a yoke had borne,
+ Yet left him such a doom!
+ His only glory was that hour
+ Of self-upheld abandoned power.
+
+ VIII.
+
+ The Spaniard, when the lust of sway
+ Had lost its quickening spell,[252]
+ Cast crowns for rosaries away,
+ An empire for a cell;
+ A strict accountant of his beads,
+ A subtle disputant on creeds,
+ His dotage trifled well:[253]
+ Yet better had he neither known
+ A bigot's shrine, nor despot's throne.
+
+ IX.
+
+ But thou--from thy reluctant hand
+ The thunderbolt is wrung--
+ Too late thou leav'st the high command
+ To which thy weakness clung;
+ All Evil Spirit as thou art,
+ It is enough to grieve the heart
+ To see thine own unstrung;
+ To think that God's fair world hath been
+ The footstool of a thing so mean;
+
+ X.
+
+ And Earth hath spilt her blood for him,
+ Who thus can hoard his own!
+ And Monarchs bowed the trembling limb,
+ And thanked him for a throne!
+ Fair Freedom! we may hold thee dear,
+ When thus thy mightiest foes their fear
+ In humblest guise have shown.
+ Oh! ne'er may tyrant leave behind
+ A brighter name to lure mankind!
+
+ XI.
+
+ Thine evil deeds are writ in gore,
+ Nor written thus in vain--
+ Thy triumphs tell of fame no more,
+ Or deepen every stain:
+ If thou hadst died as Honour dies,
+ Some new Napoleon might arise,
+ To shame the world again--
+ But who would soar the solar height,
+ To set in such a starless night?[ip]
+
+ XII.
+
+ Weigh'd in the balance, hero dust
+ Is vile as vulgar clay;[iq]
+ Thy scales, Mortality! are just
+ To all that pass away:
+ But yet methought the living great
+ Some higher sparks should animate,
+ To dazzle and dismay:
+ Nor deem'd Contempt could thus make mirth
+ Of these, the Conquerors of the earth.
+
+ XIII.[254]
+
+ And she, proud Austria's mournful flower,
+ Thy still imperial bride;
+ How bears her breast the torturing hour?
+ Still clings she to thy side?
+ Must she too bend, must she too share
+ Thy late repentance, long despair,
+ Thou throneless Homicide?
+ If still she loves thee, hoard that gem,--
+ 'Tis worth thy vanished diadem![255]
+
+ XIV.
+
+ Then haste thee to thy sullen Isle,
+ And gaze upon the sea;[ir]
+ That element may meet thy smile--
+ It ne'er was ruled by thee!
+ Or trace with thine all idle hand[is]
+ In loitering mood upon the sand
+ That Earth is now as free!
+ That Corinth's pedagogue[256] hath now
+ Transferred his by-word to thy brow.
+
+ XV.
+
+ Thou Timour! in his captive's cage[257][it]
+ What thoughts will there be thine,
+ While brooding in thy prisoned rage?
+ But one--"The world _was_ mine!"
+ Unless, like he of Babylon,[258]
+ All sense is with thy sceptre gone,[259]
+ Life will not long confine
+ That spirit poured so widely forth--
+ So long obeyed--so little worth!
+
+ XVI.
+
+ Or, like the thief of fire from heaven,[260]
+ Wilt thou withstand the shock?
+ And share with him, the unforgiven,
+ His vulture and his rock!
+ Foredoomed by God--by man accurst,[iu]
+ And that last act, though not thy worst,
+ The very Fiend's arch mock;[261]
+ He in his fall preserved his pride,
+ And, if a mortal, had as proudly died![iv][262]
+
+ XVII.
+
+ There was a day--there was an hour,
+ While earth was Gaul's--Gaul thine--[iw]
+ When that immeasurable power
+ Unsated to resign
+ Had been an act of purer fame
+ Than gathers round Marengo's name
+ And gilded thy decline,
+ Through the long twilight of all time,
+ Despite some passing clouds of crime.
+
+ XVIII.
+
+ But thou forsooth must be a King
+ And don the purple vest,
+ As if that foolish robe could wring
+ Remembrance from thy breast.
+ Where is that faded garment? where[ix]
+ The gewgaws thou wert fond to wear,
+ The star, the string, the crest?[iy][263]
+ Vain froward child of Empire! say,
+ Are all thy playthings snatched away?
+
+ XIX.
+
+ Where may the wearied eye repose[iz]
+ When gazing on the Great;
+ Where neither guilty glory glows,
+ Nor despicable state?
+ Yes--One--the first--the last--the best--
+ The Cincinnatus of the West,
+ Whom Envy dared not hate,
+ Bequeathed the name of Washington,
+ To make man blush there was but one![ja][264]
+
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[240] {301} [ODE TO NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE. By----London: Printed for J.
+Murray, Albemarle Street, By W. Bulmer and Co. Cleveland-Row, St.
+James's, 1814.--_First Proof, title-page_.]
+
+[241] [The quotation from Juvenal was added in Second Proof.
+
+ "Produce the urn that Hannibal contains,
+ And weigh the mighty dust which yet remains;
+ And is This All!"
+
+"I know not that this was ever done in the old world; at least with
+regard to Hannibal: but in the statistical account of Scotland, I find
+that Sir John Paterson had the curiosity to collect and weigh the ashes
+of a person discovered a few years since in the parish of Eccles....
+Wonderful to relate, he found the whole did not exceed in weight one
+ounce and a half! And is This All? Alas! the _quot libras_ itself is a
+satirical exaggeration."--Gifford's _Translation of Juvenal_ (ed. 1817),
+ii. 26, 27.
+
+The motto, "Expende--Quot Libras In Duce Summo Invenies," was inscribed
+on one side of the silver urn presented by Byron to Walter Scott in
+April, 1815. (See _Letters_, 1899, iii. 414, Appendix IV.)]
+
+[242] ["I send you ... an additional motto from Gibbon, which you will
+find _singularly appropriate_."--Letter to Murray, April 12, 1814,
+_ibid._, p. 68.]
+
+[243] {305} ["I don't know--but I think _I_, even _I_ (an insect
+compared with this creature), have set my life on casts not a millionth
+part of this man's. But, after all, a crown may not be worth dying for.
+Yet, to outlive _Lodi_ for this!!! Oh that Juvenal or Johnson could rise
+from the dead! 'Expende--quot libras in duce summo invenies?' I knew
+they were light in the balance of mortality; but I thought their living
+dust weighed more _carats_. Alas! this imperial diamond hath a flaw in
+it, and is now hardly fit to stick in a glazier's pencil;--the pen of
+the historian won't rate it worth a ducat. Psha! 'something too much of
+this.' But I won't give him up even now; though all his admirers have,
+'like the thanes, fallen from him.'"--_Journal_, April 9, 1814,
+_Letters_, 1898, ii. 409.]
+
+[244] [Compare "How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the
+morning!"--_Isaiah_ xiv. 12.]
+
+[245] {306} [Stanzas ii. and iii. were added in Proof iv.]
+
+[246] [A "spell" may be broken, but it is difficult to understand how,
+like the two halves of a seal or amulet, a broken spell can "unite
+again."]
+
+[247] "Certaminis _gaudia_"--the expression of Attila in his harangue to
+his army, previous to the battle of Chalons, given in Cassiodorus.
+["Nisi ad certaminis hujus gaudia præparasset."--_Attilæ Oratio ad
+Hunnos_, caput xxxix., _Appendix ad Opera Cassiodori_, Migne, lxix.
+1279.]
+
+[248] {307} [Added in Proof v.]
+
+[249] [The first four lines of stanza v. were quoted by "Mr. Miller in
+the House of Representatives of the United States," in a debate on the
+Militia Draft Bill (_Weekly Messenger_, Boston, February 10, 1815).
+"Take warning," he went on to say, "by this example. Bonaparte split on
+this rock of conscription," etc. This would have pleased Byron, who
+confided to his _Journal_, December 3, 1813 (_Letters_, 1898, ii. 360),
+that the statement that "my rhymes are very popular in the United
+States," was "the first tidings that have ever sounded like _Fame_ to my
+ears."]
+
+[250] ["Like Milo, he would rend the oak; but it closed again, wedged
+his hands, and now the beasts--lion, bear, down to the dirtiest
+jackal--may all tear him."--_Journal_, April 8, 1814, _Letters_, 1898,
+ii. 408. For the story of Milo and the Oak, see Valerius Maximus,
+_Factorum, Dictorumque Memorabilium_, lib. ix. cap. xii. Part II.
+example 9.]
+
+[251] {308} Sylla. [We find the germ of this stanza in the Diary of the
+evening before it was written: "I mark this day! Napoleon Buonaparte has
+abdicated the throne of the world. 'Excellent well.' Methinks Sylla did
+better; for he revenged, and resigned in the height of his sway, red
+with the slaughter of his foes--the finest instance of glorious contempt
+of the rascals upon record. Dioclesian did well too--Amurath not amiss,
+had he become aught except a dervise--Charles the Fifth but so so; but
+Napoleon worst of all."--_Journal_, April 9, 1814, _Letters_, 1898, ii.
+409.]
+
+[252] ["Alter '_potent_ spell' to 'quickening spell:' the first (as
+Polonius says) 'is a vile phrase,' and means nothing, besides being
+commonplace and Rosa-Matildaish."--Letter to Murray, April 11, 1814,
+_Letters_, 1899, iii. 68.]
+
+[253] {309} [Charles V. resigned the kingdom to his son Philip, circ.
+October, 1555, and the imperial crown to his brother Ferdinand, August
+27, 1556, and entered the Jeronymite Monastery of St. Justus at
+Placencia in Estremadura. Before his death (September 21, 1558) he
+dressed himself in his shroud, was laid in his coffin, "joined in the
+prayers which were offered up for the rest of his soul, mingling his
+tears with those which his attendants shed, as if they had been
+celebrating a real funeral."--Robertson's _Charles V._, 1798, iv. 180,
+205, 254.]
+
+[ip] {310}
+ _But who would rise in brightest day_
+ _To set without one parting ray?_--[MS.]
+
+[iq] ----_common clay_.--[First Proof.]
+
+[254] [Added in Proof v.]
+
+[255] {311} [Count Albert Adam de Neipperg, born 1774, an officer in the
+Austrian Army, and, 1811, Austrian envoy to the Court of Stockholm, was
+presented to Marie Louise a few days after Napoleon's abdication, became
+her chamberlain; and, according to the _Nouvelle Biographie
+Universelle_, "plus tard il l'épousa." The count, who is said to have
+been remarkably plain (he had lost an eye in a scrimmage with the
+French), died April 12, 1829.]
+
+[ir]
+ _And look along the sea;_
+ _That element may meet thy smile,_
+ _For Albion kept it free_.
+ _But gaze not on the land for there_
+ _Walks crownless Power with temples bare_
+ _And shakes the head at thee_
+ _And Corinth's Pedagogue hath now_.--[Proof ii.]
+
+[is]
+ _Or sit thee down upon the sand_
+ _And trace with thine all idle hand_.--
+ [A final correction made in Proof ii.]
+
+[256] ["Dionysius at Corinth was yet a king to this."--_Diary_, April 9.
+Dionysius the Younger, on being for the second time banished from
+Syracuse, retired to Corinth (B.C. 344), where "he is said to have
+opened a school for teaching boys to read" (see Plut., _Timal._, c. 14),
+but not, apparently, with a view to making a living by
+pedagogy.--Grote's _Hist. of Greece_, 1872, ix. 152.]
+
+[257] {312} The cage of Bajazet, by order of Tamerlane.
+
+[The story of the cage is said to be a fable. After the battle of
+Angora, July 20, 1402, Bajazet, whose escape from prison had been
+planned by one of his sons, was chained during the night, and placed in
+a kafes (_kàfess_), a Turkish word, which signifies either a cage or a
+grated room or bed. Hence the legend.--_Hist. de l'Empire Othoman_, par
+J. von Hammer-Purgstall, 1836, ii. 97.]
+
+[it] _There Timour in his captive cage_.--[First Proof.]
+
+[258] [Presumably another instance of "careless and negligent ease."]
+
+[259] ["Have you heard that Bertrand has returned to Paris with the
+account of Napoleon's having lost his senses? It is a _report_; but, if
+true, I must, like Mr. Fitzgerald and Jeremiah (of lamentable memory),
+lay claim to prophecy."--Letter to Murray, June 14, 1814, _Letters_,
+1899, iii. 95.]
+
+[260] Prometheus.
+
+[iu]
+ _He suffered for kind acts to men_
+ _Who have not seen his like again,_
+ _At least of kingly stock_
+ _Since he was good, and thou but great_
+ _Thou canst not quarrel with thy fate_.--[First Proof, stanza x.]
+
+[261] {313}
+ "O! 'tis the spite of hell, the fiend's arch-mock,
+ To lip a wanton in a secure couch,
+ And to suppose her chaste!"
+ _Othello_, act iv. sc. 1, lines 69-71.
+
+[We believe there is no doubt of the truth of the anecdote here alluded
+to--of Napoleon's having found leisure for an unworthy amour, the very
+evening of his arrival at Fontainebleau.--_Note to Edition_ 1832.
+
+A consultation of numerous lives and memoirs of Napoleon has not
+revealed the particulars of this "unworthy amour." It is possible that
+Murray may have discovered the source of Byron's allusion among the
+papers "in the possession of one of Napoleon's generals, a friend of
+Miss Waldie," which were offered him "for purchase and publication," in
+1815.--See _Memoir of John Murray_, 1891, i. 279.]
+
+[iv] _And--were he mortal had as proudly died,_--[Alteration in First
+Proof.]
+
+[262] [Of Prometheus--
+
+ "Unlike the offence, though like would be the fate--
+ _His_ to give life, but _thine_ to desolate;
+ _He_ stole from Heaven the flame for which he fell,
+ Whilst _thine_ be stolen from thy native Hell."
+
+--Attached to Proof v., April 25.]
+
+[iw] _While earth was Gallia's, Gallia thine_.--[MS.]
+
+[ix] {314} _Where is that tattered_----.--[MS.]
+
+[iy] ----_the laurel-circled crest_.--[MS.]
+
+[263] [Byron had recently become possessed of a "fine print" (by Raphael
+Morghen, after Gérard) of Napoleon in his imperial robes, which (see
+_Journal_, March 6, 1814, _Letters_, 1898, ii. 393, note 2) became him
+"as if he had been hatched in them." According to the catalogue of
+Morghen's works, the engraving represents "the head nearly full-face,
+looking to the right, crowned with laurel. He wears an enormous velvet
+robe embroidered with bees--hanging over it the collar and jewel of the
+Legion of Honour." It was no doubt this "fine print" which suggested
+"the star, the string [i.e. the chain of enamelled eagles], the crest."]
+
+[iz] _Where may the eye of man repose_.--[MS.]
+
+[ja] _Alas! and must there be but one!_--[MS.]
+
+[264] ["The two stanzas which I now send you were, by some mistake,
+omitted in the copies of Lord Byron's spirited and poetical 'Ode to
+Napoleon Buonaparte,' already published. One of 'the devils' in Mr.
+Davison's employ procured a copy of this for me, and I give you the
+chance of first discovering them to the world.
+
+"Your obedient servant,
+
+"J. R."
+
+ "Yes! better to have stood the storm,
+ A Monarch to the last!
+ Although that heartless fireless form
+ Had crumbled in the blast:
+ Than stoop to drag out Life's last years,
+ The nights of terror, days of tears
+ For all the splendour past;
+ Then,--after ages would have read
+ Thy awful death with more than dread.
+
+ "A lion in the conquering hour!
+ In wild defeat a hare!
+ Thy mind hath vanished with thy power,
+ For Danger brought despair.
+ The dreams of sceptres now depart,
+ And leave thy desolated heart
+ The Capitol of care!
+ Dark Corsican, 'tis strange to trace
+ Thy long deceit and last disgrace."
+ _Morning Chronicle_, April 27, 1814.]
+
+
+
+
+ LARA:
+
+ A TALE.
+
+
+
+
+ INTRODUCTION TO _LARA_
+
+
+The MS. of _Lara_ is dated May 14, 1814. The opening lines, which were
+not prefixed to the published poem, and were first printed in _Murray's
+Magazine_ (January, 1887), are of the nature of a Dedication. They were
+probably written a few days after the well-known song, "I speak not, I
+trace not, I breathe not thy name," which was enclosed to Moore in a
+letter dated May 4, 1814. There can be little doubt that both song and
+dedication were addressed to Lady Frances Wedderburn Webster, and that
+_Lara_, like the _Corsair_ and the _Bride of Abydos_, was written _con
+amore_, and because the poet was "eating his heart away."
+
+By the 14th of June Byron was able to announce to Moore that "_Lara_ was
+finished, and that he had begun copying." It was written, owing to the
+length of the London season, "amidst balls and fooleries, and after
+coming home from masquerades and routs, in the summer of the sovereigns"
+(Letter to Moore, June 8, 1822, _Life_, p. 561).
+
+By way of keeping his engagement--already broken by the publication of
+the _Ode to Napoleon Buonaparte_--not to "trespass on public patience,"
+Byron began by protesting (June 14) that _Lara_ was not to be published
+separately, but "might be included in a third volume now collecting." A
+fortnight later (June 27) an interchange of unpublished poems between
+himself and Rogers, "two cantos of darkness and dismay" in return for a
+privately printed copy of _Jacqueline_, who is "all grace and softness
+and poetry" (Letter to Rogers, _Letters_, 1899, iii. 101), suggested
+another and happier solution of the difficulty, a coalescing with
+Rogers, and, if possible, Moore (_Life_, 1892, p. 257, note 2), "into a
+joint invasion of the public" (Letter to Moore, July 8, 1814, _Letters_,
+1899, iii. 102). But Rogers hesitated, and Moore refused to embark on so
+doubtful a venture, with the result that, as late as the 3rd of August,
+Byron thought fit to remonstrate with Murray for "advertising _Lara and
+Jacqueline_," and confessed to Moore that he was "still demurring and
+delaying and in a fuss" (_Letters_, 1899, iii. 115, 119). Murray knew
+his man, and, though he waited for Byron's formal and ostensibly
+reluctant word of command, "Out with Lara, since it must be" (August 5,
+1814, _Letters_, 1899, iii. 122), he admitted (August 6, _Memoir of John
+Murray_, 1891, i. 230) that he had "anticipated his consent," and "had
+done everything but actually deliver the copies of _Lara_." "The
+moment," he adds, "I received your letter, for for it I waited, I cut
+the last cord of my aerial work, and at this instant 6000 copies are
+sold." _Lara, a Tale_; _Jacqueline, a Tale_, was published on Saturday,
+August 6, 1814.
+
+_Jacqueline_ is a somewhat insipid pastoral, betraying the influence of
+the Lake School, more especially Coleridge, on a belated and
+irresponsive disciple, and wholly out of place as contrast or foil to
+the melodramatic _Lara_.
+
+No sooner had the "lady," as Byron was pleased to call her, played her
+part as decoy, than she was discharged as _emerita_. A week after
+publication (August 12, 1814, _Letters_, iii. 125) Byron told Moore that
+"Murray talks of divorcing Larry and Jacky--a bad sign for the authors,
+who will, I suppose, be divorced too.... Seriously, I don't care a cigar
+about it." The divorce was soon pronounced, and, contrary to Byron's
+advice (September 2, 1814, _Letters_, iii. 131), at least four separate
+editions of _Lara_ were published during the autumn of 1814.
+
+The "advertisement" to _Lara and Jacqueline_ contains the plain
+statement that "the reader ... may probably regard it [_Lara_] as a
+sequel to the _Corsair_"--an admission on the author's part which
+forestalls and renders nugatory any prolonged discussion on the subject.
+It is evident that Lara is Conrad, and that Kaled, the "darkly delicate"
+and mysterious page, whose "hand is femininely white," is Gulnare in a
+transparent and temporary disguise.
+
+If the facts which the "English Gentleman in the Greek Military Service"
+(_Life, Writings, etc., of Lord Byron_, 1825, i. 191-201) gives in
+detail with regard to the sources of the _Corsair_ are not wholly
+imaginary, it is possible that the original Conrad's determination to
+"quit so horrible a mode of life" and return to civilization may have
+suggested to Byron the possible adventures and fate of a _grand
+seigneur_ who had played the pirate in his time, and resumed his
+ancestral dignities only to be detected and exposed by some rival or
+victim of his wild and lawless youth.
+
+_Lara_ was reviewed together with the _Corsair_, by George Agar Ellis in
+the _Quarterly Review_ for July, 1814, vol. xi. p. 428; and in the
+_Portfolio_, vol. xiv. p. 33.
+
+
+
+
+ LARA.[jb]
+
+
+
+ CANTO THE FIRST.[265]
+
+ I.
+
+ The Serfs[266] are glad through Lara's wide domain,[267]
+ And Slavery half forgets her feudal chain;
+ He, their unhoped, but unforgotten lord,
+ The long self-exiled Chieftain, is restored:
+ There be bright faces in the busy hall,
+ Bowls on the board, and banners on the wall;
+ Far checkering o'er the pictured window, plays
+ The unwonted faggot's hospitable blaze;
+ And gay retainers gather round the hearth,
+ With tongues all loudness, and with eyes all mirth. 10
+
+ II.
+
+ The Chief of Lara is returned again:
+ And why had Lara crossed the bounding main?
+ Left by his Sire, too young such loss to know,[268]
+ Lord of himself,--that heritage of woe,
+ That fearful empire which the human breast
+ But holds to rob the heart within of rest!--
+ With none to check, and few to point in time
+ The thousand paths that slope the way to crime;
+ Then, when he most required commandment, then
+ Had Lara's daring boyhood governed men.[jc] 20
+ It skills not, boots not step by step to trace
+ His youth through all the mazes of its race;
+ Short was the course his restlessness had run,[jd]
+ But long enough to leave him half undone.
+
+ III.
+
+ And Lara left in youth his father-land;
+ But from the hour he waved his parting hand
+ Each trace waxed fainter of his course, till all
+ Had nearly ceased his memory to recall.
+ His sire was dust, his vassals could declare,
+ 'Twas all they knew, that Lara was not there; 30
+ Nor sent, nor came he, till conjecture grew
+ Cold in the many, anxious in the few.
+ His hall scarce echoes with his wonted name,
+ His portrait darkens in its fading frame,
+ Another chief consoled his destined bride,[je]
+ The young forgot him, and the old had died;[jf]
+ "Yet doth he live!" exclaims the impatient heir,
+ And sighs for sables which he must not wear.[jg]
+ A hundred scutcheons deck with gloomy grace
+ The Laras' last and longest dwelling-place; 40
+ But one is absent from the mouldering file,
+ That now were welcome in that Gothic pile.[jh]
+
+ IV.
+
+ He comes at last in sudden loneliness,
+ And whence they know not, why they need not guess;
+ They more might marvel, when the greeting's o'er
+ Not that he came, but came not long before:
+ No train is his beyond a single page,
+ Of foreign aspect, and of tender age.
+ Years had rolled on, and fast they speed away
+ To those that wander as to those that stay; 50
+ But lack of tidings from another clime
+ Had lent a flagging wing to weary Time.
+ They see, they recognise, yet almost deem
+ The present dubious, or the past a dream.
+
+ He lives, nor yet is past his Manhood's prime,
+ Though seared by toil, and something touched by Time;
+ His faults, whate'er they were, if scarce forgot,
+ Might be untaught him by his varied lot;
+ Nor good nor ill of late were known, his name
+ Might yet uphold his patrimonial fame: 60
+ His soul in youth was haughty, but his sins[269]
+ No more than pleasure from the stripling wins;
+ And such, if not yet hardened in their course,
+ Might be redeemed, nor ask a long remorse.
+
+ V.
+
+ And they indeed were changed--'tis quickly seen,
+ Whate'er he be, 'twas not what he had been:
+ That brow in furrowed lines had fixed at last,
+ And spake of passions, but of passion past:
+ The pride, but not the fire, of early days,
+ Coldness of mien, and carelessness of praise; 70
+ A high demeanour, and a glance that took
+ Their thoughts from others by a single look;
+ And that sarcastic levity of tongue,
+ The stinging of a heart the world hath stung,
+ That darts in seeming playfulness around,
+ And makes those feel that will not own the wound;
+ All these seemed his, and something more beneath
+ Than glance could well reveal, or accent breathe.
+ Ambition, Glory, Love, the common aim,
+ That some can conquer, and that all would claim, 80
+ Within his breast appeared no more to strive,
+ Yet seemed as lately they had been alive;
+ And some deep feeling it were vain to trace
+ At moments lightened o'er his livid face.
+
+ VI.
+
+ Not much he loved long question of the past,
+ Nor told of wondrous wilds, and deserts vast,
+ In those far lands where he had wandered lone,
+ And--as himself would have it seem--unknown:
+ Yet these in vain his eye could scarcely scan,
+ Nor glean experience from his fellow man; 90
+ But what he had beheld he shunned to show,
+ As hardly worth a stranger's care to know;
+ If still more prying such inquiry grew,
+ His brow fell darker, and his words more few.
+
+ VII.
+
+ Not unrejoiced to see him once again,
+ Warm was his welcome to the haunts of men;
+ Born of high lineage, linked in high command,
+ He mingled with the Magnates of his land;
+ Joined the carousals of the great and gay,
+ And saw them smile or sigh their hours away; 100
+ But still he only saw, and did not share,
+ The common pleasure or the general care;
+ He did not follow what they all pursued
+ With hope still baffled still to be renewed;
+ Nor shadowy Honour, nor substantial Gain,
+ Nor Beauty's preference, and the rival's pain:
+ Around him some mysterious circle thrown
+ Repelled approach, and showed him still alone;
+ Upon his eye sat something of reproof,
+ That kept at least Frivolity aloof; 110
+ And things more timid that beheld him near
+ In silence gazed, or whispered mutual fear;
+ And they the wiser, friendlier few confessed
+ They deemed him better than his air expressed.
+
+ VIII.
+
+ Twas strange--in youth all action and all life,
+ Burning for pleasure, not averse from strife;
+ Woman--the Field--the Ocean, all that gave
+ Promise of gladness, peril of a grave,
+ In turn he tried--he ransacked all below,
+ And found his recompense in joy or woe, 120
+ No tame, trite medium; for his feelings sought
+ In that intenseness an escape from thought:[ji]
+ The Tempest of his Heart in scorn had gazed
+ On that the feebler Elements hath raised;
+ The Rapture of his Heart had looked on high,
+ And asked if greater dwelt beyond the sky:
+ Chained to excess, the slave of each extreme,
+ How woke he from the wildness of that dream!
+ Alas! he told not--but he did awake
+ To curse the withered heart that would not break. 130
+
+ IX.
+
+ Books, for his volume heretofore was Man,
+ With eye more curious he appeared to scan,
+ And oft in sudden mood, for many a day,
+ From all communion he would start away:
+ And then, his rarely called attendants said,
+ Through night's long hours would sound his hurried tread
+ O'er the dark gallery, where his fathers frowned
+ In rude but antique portraiture around:
+ They heard, but whispered--"_that_ must not be known--
+ The sound of words less earthly than his own.[jj] 140
+ Yes, they who chose might smile, but some had seen
+ They scarce knew what, but more than should have been.
+ Why gazed he so upon the ghastly head[270]
+ Which hands profane had gathered from the dead,
+ That still beside his opened volume lay,
+ As if to startle all save him away?
+ Why slept he not when others were at rest?
+ Why heard no music, and received no guest?
+ All was not well, they deemed--but where the wrong?[271]
+ Some knew perchance--but 'twere a tale too long; 150
+ And such besides were too discreetly wise,
+ To more than hint their knowledge in surmise;
+ But if they would--they could"--around the board
+ Thus Lara's vassals prattled of their lord.
+
+ X.
+
+ It was the night--and Lara's glassy stream
+ The stars are studding, each with imaged beam;
+ So calm, the waters scarcely seem to stray,
+ And yet they glide like Happiness away;[272]
+ Reflecting far and fairy-like from high
+ The immortal lights that live along the sky: 160
+ Its banks are fringed with many a goodly tree,
+ And flowers the fairest that may feast the bee;
+ Such in her chaplet infant Dian wove,
+ And Innocence would offer to her love.
+ These deck the shore; the waves their channel make
+ In windings bright and mazy like the snake.
+ All was so still, so soft in earth and air,
+ You scarce would start to meet a spirit there;
+ Secure that nought of evil could delight
+ To walk in such a scene, on such a night! 170
+ It was a moment only for the good:
+ So Lara deemed, nor longer there he stood,
+ But turned in silence to his castle-gate;
+ Such scene his soul no more could contemplate:
+ Such scene reminded him of other days,
+ Of skies more cloudless, moons of purer blaze,
+ Of nights more soft and frequent, hearts that now--
+ No--no--the storm may beat upon his brow,
+ Unfelt, unsparing--but a night like this,
+ A night of Beauty, mocked such breast as his. 180
+
+ XI.
+
+ He turned within his solitary hall,
+ And his high shadow shot along the wall:
+ There were the painted forms of other times,[273]
+ 'Twas all they left of virtues or of crimes,
+ Save vague tradition; and the gloomy vaults
+ That hid their dust, their foibles, and their faults;
+ And half a column of the pompous page,
+ That speeds the specious tale from age to age;
+ Where History's pen its praise or blame supplies,
+ And lies like Truth, and still most truly lies. 190
+ He wandering mused, and as the moonbeam shone
+ Through the dim lattice, o'er the floor of stone,
+ And the high fretted roof, and saints, that there
+ O'er Gothic windows knelt in pictured prayer,[jk]
+ Reflected in fantastic figures grew,
+ Like life, but not like mortal life, to view;
+ His bristling locks of sable, brow of gloom,
+ And the wide waving of his shaken plume,
+ Glanced like a spectre's attributes--and gave
+ His aspect all that terror gives the grave.[jl] 200
+
+ XII.
+
+ 'Twas midnight--all was slumber; the lone light
+ Dimmed in the lamp, as both to break the night.
+ Hark! there be murmurs heard in Lara's hall--
+ A sound--a voice--a shriek--a fearful call!
+ A long, loud shriek--and silence--did they hear
+ That frantic echo burst the sleeping ear?
+ They heard and rose, and, tremulously brave,
+ Rush where the sound invoked their aid to save;
+ They come with half-lit tapers in their hands,
+ And snatched in startled haste unbelted brands. 210
+
+ XIII.
+
+ Cold as the marble where his length was laid,
+ Pale as the beam that o'er his features played,
+ Was Lara stretched; his half-drawn sabre near,
+ Dropped it should seem in more than Nature's fear;
+ Yet he was firm, or had been firm till now,
+ And still Defiance knit his gathered brow;
+ Though mixed with terror, senseless as he lay,
+ There lived upon his lip the wish to slay;
+ Some half formed threat in utterance there had died,
+ Some imprecation of despairing Pride; 220
+ His eye was almost sealed, but not forsook,
+ Even in its trance, the gladiator's look,
+ That oft awake his aspect could disclose,
+ And now was fixed in horrible repose.
+ They raise him--bear him;--hush! he breathes, he speaks,
+ The swarthy blush recolours in his cheeks,
+ His lip resumes its red, his eye, though dim,
+ Rolls wide and wild, each slowly quivering limb
+ Recalls its function, but his words are strung
+ In terms that seem not of his native tongue; 230
+ Distinct but strange, enough they understand
+ To deem them accents of another land;
+ And such they were, and meant to meet an ear
+ That hears him not--alas! that cannot hear!
+
+ XIV.
+
+ His page approached, and he alone appeared
+ To know the import of the words they heard;
+ And, by the changes of his cheek and brow,
+ They were not such as Lara should avow,
+ Nor he interpret,--yet with less surprise
+ Than those around their Chieftain's state he eyes, 240
+ But Lara's prostrate form he bent beside,
+ And in that tongue which seemed his own replied;
+ And Lara heeds those tones that gently seem
+ To soothe away the horrors of his dream--
+ If dream it were, that thus could overthrow
+ A breast that needed not ideal woe.
+
+ XV.
+
+ Whate'er his frenzy dreamed or eye beheld,--
+ If yet remembered ne'er to be revealed,--
+ Rests at his heart: the customed morning came,
+ And breathed new vigour in his shaken frame; 250
+ And solace sought he none from priest nor leech,
+ And soon the same in movement and in speech,
+ As heretofore he filled the passing hours,
+ Nor less he smiles, nor more his forehead lowers,
+ Than these were wont; and if the coming night
+ Appeared less welcome now to Lara's sight,
+ He to his marvelling vassals showed it not,
+ Whose shuddering proved _their_ fear was less forgot.
+ In trembling pairs (alone they dared not) crawl[jm]
+ The astonished slaves, and shun the fated hall; 260
+ The waving banner, and the clapping door,
+ The rustling tapestry, and the echoing floor;
+ The long dim shadows of surrounding trees,
+ The flapping bat, the night song of the breeze;
+ Aught they behold or hear their thought appals,
+ As evening saddens o'er the dark grey walls.
+
+ XVI.
+
+ Vain thought! that hour of ne'er unravelled gloom
+ Came not again, or Lara could assume
+ A seeming of forgetfulness, that made
+ His vassals more amazed nor less afraid. 270
+ Had Memory vanished then with sense restored?
+ Since word, nor look, nor gesture of their lord
+ Betrayed a feeling that recalled to these
+ That fevered moment of his mind's disease.
+ Was it a dream? was his the voice that spoke
+ Those strange wild accents; his the cry that broke
+ Their slumber? his the oppressed, o'erlaboured heart
+ That ceased to beat, the look that made them start?
+ Could he who thus had suffered so forget,
+ When such as saw that suffering shudder yet? 280
+ Or did that silence prove his memory fixed
+ Too deep for words, indelible, unmixed
+ In that corroding secrecy which gnaws
+ The heart to show the effect, but not the cause?
+ Not so in him; his breast had buried both,
+ Nor common gazers could discern the growth
+ Of thoughts that mortal lips must leave half told;
+ They choke the feeble words that would unfold.
+
+ XVII.
+
+ In him inexplicably mixed appeared
+ Much to be loved and hated, sought and feared; 290
+ Opinion varying o'er his hidden lot,[jn]
+ In praise or railing ne'er his name forgot:
+ His silence formed a theme for others' prate--
+ They guessed--they gazed--they fain would know his fate.
+ What had he been? what was he, thus unknown,
+ Who walked their world, his lineage only known?
+ A hater of his kind? yet some would say,
+ With them he could seem gay amidst the gay;[jo]
+ But owned that smile, if oft observed and near,
+ Waned in its mirth, and withered to a sneer; 300
+ That smile might reach his lip, but passed not by,
+ Nor e'er could trace its laughter to his eye:
+ Yet there was softness too in his regard,
+ At times, a heart as not by nature hard,
+ But once perceived, his Spirit seemed to chide
+ Such weakness, as unworthy of its pride,
+ And steeled itself, as scorning to redeem
+ One doubt from others' half withheld esteem;
+ In self-inflicted penance of a breast
+ Which Tenderness might once have wrung from Rest; 310
+ In vigilance of Grief that would compel
+ The soul to hate for having loved too well.[274]
+
+ XVIII.
+
+ There was in him a vital scorn of all:[jp]
+ As if the worst had fallen which could befall,
+ He stood a stranger in this breathing world,
+ An erring Spirit from another hurled;
+ A thing of dark imaginings, that shaped
+ By choice the perils he by chance escaped;
+ But 'scaped in vain, for in their memory yet
+ His mind would half exult and half regret: 320
+ With more capacity for love than Earth
+ Bestows on most of mortal mould and birth.
+ His early dreams of good outstripped the truth,[275]
+ And troubled Manhood followed baffled Youth;
+ With thought of years in phantom chase misspent,
+ And wasted powers for better purpose lent;
+ And fiery passions that had poured their wrath
+ In hurried desolation o'er his path,
+ And left the better feelings all at strife[jq]
+ In wild reflection o'er his stormy life; 330
+ But haughty still, and loth himself to blame,
+ He called on Nature's self to share the shame,
+ And charged all faults upon the fleshly form
+ She gave to clog the soul, and feast the worm:
+ Till he at last confounded good and ill,
+ And half mistook for fate the acts of will:[jr][276]
+ Too high for common selfishness, he could
+ At times resign his own for others' good,
+ But not in pity--not because he ought,
+ But in some strange perversity of thought, 340
+ That swayed him onward with a secret pride
+ To do what few or none would do beside;
+ And this same impulse would, in tempting time,
+ Mislead his spirit equally to crime;
+ So much he soared beyond, or sunk beneath,
+ The men with whom he felt condemned to breathe,
+ And longed by good or ill to separate
+ Himself from all who shared his mortal state;
+ His mind abhorring this had fixed her throne
+ Far from the world, in regions of her own: 350
+ Thus coldly passing all that passed below,
+ His blood in temperate seeming now would flow:
+ Ah! happier if it ne'er with guilt had glowed,
+ But ever in that icy smoothness flowed!
+ 'Tis true, with other men their path he walked,
+ And like the rest in seeming did and talked,
+ Nor outraged Reason's rules by flaw nor start,
+ His Madness was not of the head, but heart;
+ And rarely wandered in his speech, or drew
+ His thoughts so forth as to offend the view. 360
+
+ XIX.
+
+ With all that chilling mystery of mien,
+ And seeming gladness to remain unseen,
+ He had (if 'twere not nature's boon) an art
+ Of fixing memory on another's heart:
+ It was not love perchance--nor hate--nor aught
+ That words can image to express the thought;
+ But they who saw him did not see in vain,
+ And once beheld--would ask of him again:
+ And those to whom he spake remembered well,
+ And on the words, however light, would dwell: 370
+ None knew, nor how, nor why, but he entwined
+ Himself perforce around the hearer's mind;[js]
+ There he was stamped, in liking, or in hate,
+ If greeted once; however brief the date
+ That friendship, pity, or aversion knew,[jt]
+ Still there within the inmost thought he grew.
+ You could not penetrate his soul, but found,
+ Despite your wonder, to your own he wound;
+ His presence haunted still; and from the breast[ju]
+ He forced an all unwilling interest: 380
+ Vain was the struggle in that mental net--
+ His Spirit seemed to dare you to forget!
+
+ XX.
+
+ There is a festival, where knights and dames,
+ And aught that wealth or lofty lineage claims,
+ Appear--a high-born and a welcome guest
+ To Otho's hall came Lara with the rest.
+ The long carousal shakes the illumined hall,
+ Well speeds alike the banquet and the ball;
+ And the gay dance of bounding Beauty's train
+ Links grace and harmony in happiest chain: 390
+ Blest are the early hearts and gentle hands
+ That mingle there in well according bands;
+ It is a sight the careful brow might smooth,
+ And make Age smile, and dream itself to youth,
+ And Youth forget such hour was past on earth,
+ So springs the exulting bosom to that mirth![jv]
+
+ XXI.
+
+ And Lara gazed on these, sedately glad,
+ His brow belied him if his soul was sad;
+ And his glance followed fast each fluttering fair,
+ Whose steps of lightness woke no echo there: 400
+ He leaned against the lofty pillar nigh,
+ With folded arms and long attentive eye,
+ Nor marked a glance so sternly fixed on his--
+ Ill brooked high Lara scrutiny like this:
+ At length he caught it--'tis a face unknown,
+ But seems as searching his, and his alone;
+ Prying and dark, a stranger's by his mien,
+ Who still till now had gazed on him unseen:
+ At length encountering meets the mutual gaze
+ Of keen enquiry, and of mute amaze; 410
+ On Lara's glance emotion gathering grew,
+ As if distrusting that the stranger threw;
+ Along the stranger's aspect, fixed and stern,
+ Flashed more than thence the vulgar eye could learn.
+
+ XXII.
+
+ "'Tis he!" the stranger cried, and those that heard
+ Re-echoed fast and far the whispered word.
+ "'Tis he!"--"'Tis who?" they question far and near,
+ Till louder accents rung on Lara's ear;
+ So widely spread, few bosoms well could brook
+ The general marvel, or that single look: 420
+ But Lara stirred not, changed not, the surprise
+ That sprung at first to his arrested eyes
+ Seemed now subsided--neither sunk nor raised
+ Glanced his eye round, though still the stranger gazed;
+ And drawing nigh, exclaimed, with haughty sneer,
+ "'Tis he!--how came he thence?--what doth he here?"
+
+ XXIII.
+
+ It were too much for Lara to pass by
+ Such questions, so repeated fierce and high;[jw]
+ With look collected, but with accent cold,
+ More mildly firm than petulantly bold, 430
+ He turned, and met the inquisitorial tone--
+ "My name is Lara--when thine own is known,
+ Doubt not my fitting answer to requite
+ The unlooked for courtesy of such a knight.
+ 'Tis Lara!--further wouldst thou mark or ask?
+ I shun no question, and I wear no mask."
+
+ "Thou _shunn'st_ no question! Ponder--is there none
+ Thy heart must answer, though thine ear would shun?
+ And deem'st thou me unknown too? Gaze again!
+ At least thy memory was not given in vain. 440
+ Oh! never canst thou cancel half her debt--
+ Eternity forbids thee to forget."
+ With slow and searching glance upon his face
+ Grew Lara's eyes, but nothing there could trace
+ They knew, or chose to know--with dubious look
+ He deigned no answer, but his head he shook,
+ And half contemptuous turned to pass away;
+ But the stern stranger motioned him to stay.
+
+ "A word!--I charge thee stay, and answer here
+ To one, who, wert thou noble, were thy peer, 450
+ But as thou wast and art--nay, frown not, Lord,
+ If false, 'tis easy to disprove the word--
+ But as thou wast and art, on thee looks down,
+ Distrusts thy smiles, but shakes not at thy frown.
+ Art thou not he? whose deeds----"[jx]
+ "Whate'er I be,
+ Words wild as these, accusers like to thee,
+ I list no further; those with whom they weigh
+ May hear the rest, nor venture to gainsay
+ The wondrous tale no doubt thy tongue can tell,
+ Which thus begins so courteously and well. 460
+ Let Otho cherish here his polished guest,
+ To him my thanks and thoughts shall be expressed."
+ And here their wondering host hath interposed--
+ "Whate'er there be between you undisclosed,
+ This is no time nor fitting place to mar
+ The mirthful meeting with a wordy war.
+ If thou, Sir Ezzelin, hast aught to show
+ Which it befits Count Lara's ear to know,
+ To-morrow, here, or elsewhere, as may best
+ Beseem your mutual judgment, speak the rest; 470
+ I pledge myself for thee, as not unknown,
+ Though, like Count Lara, now returned alone
+ From other lands, almost a stranger grown;
+ And if from Lara's blood and gentle birth
+ I augur right of courage and of worth,
+ He will not that untainted line belie,
+ Nor aught that Knighthood may accord, deny."
+
+ "To-morrow be it," Ezzelin replied,
+ "And here our several worth and truth be tried;
+ I gage my life, my falchion to attest 480
+ My words, so may I mingle with the blest!"
+ What answers Lara? to its centre shrunk
+ His soul, in deep abstraction sudden sunk;
+ The words of many, and the eyes of all
+ That there were gathered, seemed on him to fall;
+ But his were silent, his appeared to stray
+ In far forgetfulness away--away--
+ Alas! that heedlessness of all around
+ Bespoke remembrance only too profound.
+
+ XXIV.
+
+ "To-morrow!--aye, to-morrow!" further word[jy] 490
+ Than those repeated none from Lara heard;
+ Upon his brow no outward passion spoke;
+ From his large eye no flashing anger broke;
+ Yet there was something fixed in that low tone,
+ Which showed resolve, determined, though unknown.
+ He seized his cloak--his head he slightly bowed,
+ And passing Ezzelin, he left the crowd;
+ And, as he passed him, smiling met the frown
+ With which that Chieftain's brow would bear him down:
+ It was nor smile of mirth, nor struggling pride 500
+ That curbs to scorn the wrath it cannot hide;
+ But that of one in his own heart secure
+ Of all that he would do, or could endure.
+ Could this mean peace? the calmness of the good?
+ Or guilt grown old in desperate hardihood?
+ Alas! too like in confidence are each,
+ For man to trust to mortal look or speech;
+ From deeds, and deeds alone, may he discern
+ Truths which it wrings the unpractised heart to learn.
+
+ XXV.
+
+ And Lara called his page, and went his way-- 510
+ Well could that stripling word or sign obey:
+ His only follower from those climes afar,
+ Where the Soul glows beneath a brighter star:
+ For Lara left the shore from whence he sprung,
+ In duty patient, and sedate though young;
+ Silent as him he served, his faith appears
+ Above his station, and beyond his years.
+ Though not unknown the tongue of Lara's land,
+ In such from him he rarely heard command;
+ But fleet his step, and clear his tones would come, 520
+ When Lara's lip breathed forth the words of home:
+ Those accents, as his native mountains dear,
+ Awake their absent echoes in his ear,[jz]
+ Friends'--kindred's--parents'--wonted voice recall,
+ Now lost, abjured, for one--his friend, his all:
+ For him earth now disclosed no other guide;
+ What marvel then he rarely left his side?
+
+ XXVI.
+
+ Light was his form, and darkly delicate
+ That brow whereon his native sun had sate,
+ But had not marred, though in his beams he grew, 530
+ The cheek where oft the unbidden blush shone through;
+ Yet not such blush as mounts when health would show
+ All the heart's hue in that delighted glow;
+ But 'twas a hectic tint of secret care
+ That for a burning moment fevered there;
+ And the wild sparkle of his eye seemed caught
+ From high, and lightened with electric thought,[ka]
+ Though its black orb those long low lashes' fringe
+ Had tempered with a melancholy tinge;
+ Yet less of sorrow than of pride was there, 540
+ Or, if 'twere grief, a grief that none should share:
+ And pleased not him the sports that please his age,
+ The tricks of Youth, the frolics of the Page;
+ For hours on Lara he would fix his glance,
+ As all-forgotten in that watchful trance;
+ And from his chief withdrawn, he wandered lone,
+ Brief were his answers, and his questions none;
+ His walk the wood, his sport some foreign book;
+ His resting-place the bank that curbs the brook:
+ He seemed, like him he served, to live apart 550
+ From all that lures the eye, and fills the heart;
+ To know no brotherhood, and take from earth
+ No gift beyond that bitter boon--our birth.
+
+ XXVII.
+
+ If aught he loved, 'twas Lara; but was shown
+ His faith in reverence and in deeds alone;
+ In mute attention; and his care, which guessed
+ Each wish, fulfilled it ere the tongue expressed.
+ Still there was haughtiness in all he did,
+ A spirit deep that brooked not to be chid;
+ His zeal, though more than that of servile hands,[kb] 560
+ In act alone obeys, his air commands;
+ As if 'twas Lara's less than _his_ desire
+ That thus he served, but surely not for hire.
+ Slight were the tasks enjoined him by his Lord,
+ To hold the stirrup, or to bear the sword;
+ To tune his lute, or, if he willed it more,[kc]
+ On tomes of other times and tongues to pore;
+ But ne'er to mingle with the menial train,
+ To whom he showed nor deference nor disdain,
+ But that well-worn reserve which proved he knew 570
+ No sympathy with that familiar crew:
+ His soul, whate'er his station or his stem,
+ Could bow to Lara, not descend to them.
+ Of higher birth he seemed, and better days,
+ Nor mark of vulgar toil that hand betrays,
+ So femininely white it might bespeak
+ Another sex, when matched with that smooth cheek,
+ But for his garb, and something in his gaze,
+ More wild and high than Woman's eye betrays;
+ A latent fierceness that far more became 580
+ His fiery climate than his tender frame:
+ True, in his words it broke not from his breast,
+ But from his aspect might be more than guessed.[kd]
+ Kaled his name, though rumour said he bore
+ Another ere he left his mountain-shore;
+ For sometimes he would hear, however nigh,
+ That name repeated loud without reply,
+ As unfamiliar--or, if roused again,
+ Start to the sound, as but remembered then;
+ Unless 'twas Lara's wonted voice that spake, 590
+ For then--ear--eyes--and heart would all awake.
+
+ XXVIII.
+
+ He had looked down upon the festive hall,
+ And mark'd that sudden strife so marked of all:
+ And when the crowd around and near him told[ke]
+ Their wonder at the calmness of the bold,
+ Their marvel how the high-born Lara bore
+ Such insult from a stranger, doubly sore,
+ The colour of young Kaled went and came,
+ The lip of ashes, and the cheek of flame;
+ And o'er his brow the dampening heart-drops threw 600
+ The sickening iciness of that cold dew,
+ That rises as the busy bosom sinks
+ With heavy thoughts from which Reflection shrinks.
+ Yes--there be things which we must dream and dare,
+ And execute ere thought be half aware:[277]
+ Whate'er might Kaled's be, it was enow
+ To seal his lip, but agonise his brow.
+ He gazed on Ezzelin till Lara cast
+ That sidelong smile upon the knight he past;
+ When Kaled saw that smile his visage fell, 610
+ As if on something recognised right well:
+ His memory read in such a meaning more
+ Than Lara's aspect unto others wore:
+ Forward he sprung--a moment, both were gone,
+ And all within that hall seemed left alone;
+ Each had so fixed his eye on Lara's mien,
+ All had so mixed their feelings with that scene,
+ That when his long dark shadow through the porch
+ No more relieves the glare of yon high torch,
+ Each pulse beats quicker, and all bosoms seem 620
+ To bound as doubting from too black a dream,
+ Such as we know is false, yet dread in sooth,
+ Because the worst is ever nearest truth.
+ And they are gone--but Ezzelin is there,
+ With thoughtful visage and imperious air;
+ But long remained not; ere an hour expired
+ He waved his hand to Otho, and retired.
+
+ XXIX.
+
+ The crowd are gone, the revellers at rest;
+ The courteous host, and all-approving guest,
+ Again to that accustomed couch must creep 630
+ Where Joy subsides, and Sorrow sighs to sleep,
+ And Man, o'erlaboured with his Being's strife,
+ Shrinks to that sweet forgetfulness of life:
+ There lie Love's feverish hope, and Cunning's guile,[kf]
+ Hate's working brain, and lulled Ambition's wile;
+ O'er each vain eye Oblivion's pinions wave,
+ And quenched Existence crouches in a grave.[kg]
+ What better name may Slumber's bed become?
+ Night's sepulchre, the universal home,
+ Where Weakness--Strength--Vice--Virtue--sunk supine, 640
+ Alike in naked helplessness recline;
+ Glad for a while to heave unconscious breath,
+ Yet wake to wrestle with the dread of Death,
+ And shun--though Day but dawn on ills increased--
+ That sleep,--the loveliest, since it dreams the least.
+
+
+
+ CANTO THE SECOND.
+
+ I.
+
+ Night wanes--the vapours round the mountains curled[278]
+ Melt into morn, and Light awakes the world,
+ Man has another day to swell the past,
+ And lead him near to little, but his last;
+ But mighty Nature bounds as from her birth, 650
+ The Sun is in the heavens, and Life on earth;[279]
+ Flowers in the valley, splendour in the beam,
+ Health on the gale, and freshness in the stream.
+ Immortal Man! behold her glories shine,
+ And cry, exulting inly, "They are thine!"
+ Gaze on, while yet thy gladdened eye may see:
+ A morrow comes when they are not for thee:
+ And grieve what may above thy senseless bier,
+ Nor earth nor sky will yield a single tear;
+ Nor cloud shall gather more, nor leaf shall fall, 660
+ Nor gale breathe forth one sigh for thee, for all;[280]
+ But creeping things shall revel in their spoil,
+ And fit thy clay to fertilise the soil.
+
+ II.
+
+ 'Tis morn--'tis noon--assembled in the hall,
+ The gathered Chieftains come to Otho's call;
+ 'Tis now the promised hour, that must proclaim
+ The life or death of Lara's future fame;
+ And Ezzelin his charge may here unfold,[kh]
+ And whatsoe'er the tale, it must be told.
+ His faith was pledged, and Lara's promise given, 670
+ To meet it in the eye of Man and Heaven.
+ Why comes he not? Such truths to be divulged,
+ Methinks the accuser's rest is long indulged.
+
+ III.
+
+ The hour is past, and Lara too is there,
+ With self-confiding, coldly patient air;
+ Why comes not Ezzelin? The hour is past,
+ And murmurs rise, and Otho's brow's o'ercast.
+ "I know my friend! his faith I cannot fear,
+ If yet he be on earth, expect him here;
+ The roof that held him in the valley stands 680
+ Between my own and noble Lara's lands;
+ My halls from such a guest had honour gained,
+ Nor had Sir Ezzelin his host disdained,
+ But that some previous proof forbade his stay,
+ And urged him to prepare against to-day;
+ The word I pledged for his I pledge again,
+ Or will myself redeem his knighthood's stain."
+ He ceased--and Lara answered, "I am here
+ To lend at thy demand a listening ear
+ To tales of evil from a stranger's tongue, 690
+ Whose words already might my heart have wrung,
+ But that I deemed him scarcely less than mad,
+ Or, at the worst, a foe ignobly bad.
+ I know him not--but me it seems he knew
+ In lands where--but I must not trifle too:
+ Produce this babbler--or redeem the pledge;
+ Here in thy hold, and with thy falchion's edge."[ki]
+
+ Proud Otho on the instant, reddening, threw
+ His glove on earth, and forth his sabre flew.
+ "The last alternative befits me best, 700
+ And thus I answer for mine absent guest."
+
+ With cheek unchanging from its sallow gloom,
+ However near his own or other's tomb;
+ With hand, whose almost careless coolness spoke
+ Its grasp well-used to deal the sabre-stroke;
+ With eye, though calm, determined not to spare,
+ Did Lara too his willing weapon bare.
+ In vain the circling Chieftains round them closed,
+ For Otho's frenzy would not be opposed;
+ And from his lip those words of insult fell-- 710
+ His sword is good who can maintain them well.
+
+ IV.
+
+ Short was the conflict; furious, blindly rash,
+ Vain Otho gave his bosom to the gash:
+ He bled, and fell; but not with deadly wound,
+ Stretched by a dextrous sleight along the ground.
+ "Demand thy life!" He answered not: and then
+ From that red floor he ne'er had risen again,
+ For Lara's brow upon the moment grew
+ Almost to blackness in its demon hue;[281]
+ And fiercer shook his angry falchion now 720
+ Than when his foe's was levelled at his brow;
+ Then all was stern collectedness and art,
+ Now rose the unleavened hatred of his heart;
+ So little sparing to the foe he felled,[kj]
+ That when the approaching crowd his arm withheld,
+ He almost turned the thirsty point on those
+ Who thus for mercy dared to interpose;
+ But to a moment's thought that purpose bent;
+ Yet looked he on him still with eye intent,
+ As if he loathed the ineffectual strife 730
+ That left a foe, howe'er o'erthrown, with life;
+ As if to search how far the wound he gave
+ Had sent its victim onward to his grave.
+
+ V.
+
+ They raised the bleeding Otho, and the Leech
+ Forbade all present question, sign, and speech;
+ The others met within a neighbouring hall,
+ And he, incensed, and heedless of them all,[kk]
+ The cause and conqueror in this sudden fray,
+ In haughty silence slowly strode away;
+ He backed his steed, his homeward path he took, 740
+ Nor cast on Otho's towers a single look.
+
+ VI.
+
+ But where was he? that meteor of a night,
+ Who menaced but to disappear with light.
+ Where was this Ezzelin? who came and went,
+ To leave no other trace of his intent.
+ He left the dome of Otho long ere morn,
+ In darkness, yet so well the path was worn
+ He could not miss it: near his dwelling lay;
+ But there he was not, and with coming day
+ Came fast inquiry, which unfolded nought, 750
+ Except the absence of the Chief it sought.
+ A chamber tenantless, a steed at rest,
+ His host alarmed, his murmuring squires distressed:
+ Their search extends along, around the path,
+ In dread to meet the marks of prowlers' wrath:
+ But none are there, and not a brake hath borne
+ Nor gout of blood, nor shred of mantle torn;
+ Nor fall nor struggle hath defaced the grass,
+ Which still retains a mark where Murder was;
+ Nor dabbling fingers left to tell the tale, 760
+ The bitter print of each convulsive nail,
+ When agoniséd hands that cease to guard,
+ Wound in that pang the smoothness of the sward.
+ Some such had been, if here a life was reft,
+ But these were not; and doubting Hope is left;
+ And strange Suspicion, whispering Lara's name,
+ Now daily mutters o'er his blackened fame;
+ Then sudden silent when his form appeared,
+ Awaits the absence of the thing it feared
+ Again its wonted wondering to renew, 770
+ And dye conjecture with a darker hue.
+
+ VII.
+
+ Days roll along, and Otho's wounds are healed,
+ But not his pride; and hate no more concealed:
+ He was a man of power, and Lara's foe,
+ The friend of all who sought to work him woe,
+ And from his country's justice now demands
+ Account of Ezzelin at Lara's hands.
+ Who else than Lara could have cause to fear
+ His presence? who had made him disappear,
+ If not the man on whom his menaced charge 780
+ Had sate too deeply were he left at large?
+ The general rumour ignorantly loud,
+ The mystery dearest to the curious crowd;
+ The seeming friendliness of him who strove
+ To win no confidence, and wake no love;
+ The sweeping fierceness which his soul betrayed,
+ The skill with which he wielded his keen blade;
+ Where had his arm unwarlike caught that art?
+ Where had that fierceness grown upon his heart?
+ For it was not the blind capricious rage[kl] 790
+ A word can kindle and a word assuage;
+ But the deep working of a soul unmixed
+ With aught of pity where its wrath had fixed;
+ Such as long power and overgorged success
+ Concentrates into all that's merciless:
+ These, linked with that desire which ever sways
+ Mankind, the rather to condemn than praise,
+ 'Gainst Lara gathering raised at length a storm,
+ Such as himself might fear, and foes would form,
+ And he must answer for the absent head 800
+ Of one that haunts him still, alive or dead.
+
+ VIII.
+
+ Within that land was many a malcontent,
+ Who cursed the tyranny to which he bent;
+ That soil full many a wringing despot saw,
+ Who worked his wantonness in form of law;
+ Long war without and frequent broil within
+ Had made a path for blood and giant sin,
+ That waited but a signal to begin
+ New havoc, such as civil discord blends,
+ Which knows no neuter, owns but foes or friends; 810
+ Fixed in his feudal fortress each was lord,
+ In word and deed obeyed, in soul abhorred.
+ Thus Lara had inherited his lands,
+ And with them pining hearts and sluggish hands;
+ But that long absence from his native clime
+ Had left him stainless of Oppression's crime,
+ And now, diverted by his milder sway,[km]
+ All dread by slow degrees had worn away.
+ The menials felt their usual awe alone,
+ But more for him than them that fear was grown; 820
+ They deemed him now unhappy, though at first
+ Their evil judgment augured of the worst,
+ And each long restless night, and silent mood,
+ Was traced to sickness, fed by solitude:
+ And though his lonely habits threw of late
+ Gloom o'er his chamber, cheerful was his gate;[kn]
+ For thence the wretched ne'er unsoothed withdrew,
+ For them, at least, his soul compassion knew.
+ Cold to the great, contemptuous to the high,
+ The humble passed not his unheeding eye; 830
+ Much he would speak not, but beneath his roof
+ They found asylum oft, and ne'er reproof.
+ And they who watched might mark that, day by day,
+ Some new retainers gathered to his sway;
+ But most of late, since Ezzelin was lost,
+ He played the courteous lord and bounteous host:
+ Perchance his strife with Otho made him dread
+ Some snare prepared for his obnoxious head;
+ Whate'er his view, his favour more obtains
+ With these, the people, than his fellow thanes. 840
+ If this were policy, so far 'twas sound,
+ The million judged but of him as they found;
+ From him by sterner chiefs to exile driven
+ They but required a shelter, and 'twas given.
+ By him no peasant mourned his rifled cot,
+ And scarce the Serf could murmur o'er his lot;
+ With him old Avarice found its hoard secure,
+ With him contempt forbore to mock the poor;
+ Youth present cheer and promised recompense
+ Detained, till all too late to part from thence: 850
+ To Hate he offered, with the coming change,
+ The deep reversion of delayed revenge;
+ To Love, long baffled by the unequal match,
+ The well-won charms success was sure to snatch.[ko]
+ All now was ripe, he waits but to proclaim
+ That slavery nothing which was still a name.
+ The moment came, the hour when Otho thought
+ Secure at last the vengeance which he sought:
+ His summons found the destined criminal
+ Begirt by thousands in his swarming hall; 860
+ Fresh from their feudal fetters newly riven,
+ Defying earth, and confident of heaven.
+ That morning he had freed the soil-bound slaves,
+ Who dig no land for tyrants but their graves!
+ Such is their cry--some watchword for the fight
+ Must vindicate the wrong, and warp the right;
+ Religion--Freedom--Vengeance--what you will,
+ A word's enough to raise Mankind to kill;[kp]
+ Some factious phrase by cunning caught and spread,
+ That Guilt may reign-and wolves and worms be fed! 870
+
+ IX.
+
+ Throughout that clime the feudal Chiefs had gained
+ Such sway, their infant monarch hardly reigned;
+ Now was the hour for Faction's rebel growth,
+ The Serfs contemned the one, and hated both:
+ They waited but a leader, and they found
+ One to their cause inseparably bound;
+ By circumstance compelled to plunge again,
+ In self-defence, amidst the strife of men.
+ Cut off by some mysterious fate from those
+ Whom Birth and Nature meant not for his foes, 880
+ Had Lara from that night, to him accurst,
+ Prepared to meet, but not alone, the worst:
+ Some reason urged, whate'er it was, to shun
+ Inquiry into deeds at distance done;
+ By mingling with his own the cause of all,
+ E'en if he failed, he still delayed his fall.
+ The sullen calm that long his bosom kept,
+ The storm that once had spent itself and slept,
+ Roused by events that seemed foredoomed to urge
+ His gloomy fortunes to their utmost verge, 890
+ Burst forth, and made him all he once had been,
+ And is again; he only changed the scene.
+ Light care had he for life, and less for fame,
+ But not less fitted for the desperate game:
+ He deemed himself marked out for others' hate,
+ And mocked at Ruin so they shared his fate.
+ And cared he for the freedom of the crowd?
+ He raised the humble but to bend the proud.
+ He had hoped quiet in his sullen lair,
+ But Man and Destiny beset him there: 900
+ Inured to hunters, he was found at bay;
+ And they must kill, they cannot snare the prey.
+ Stern, unambitious, silent, he had been
+ Henceforth a calm spectator of Life's scene;
+ But dragged again upon the arena, stood
+ A leader not unequal to the feud;
+ In voice--mien--gesture--savage nature spoke,
+ And from his eye the gladiator broke.
+
+ X.
+
+ What boots the oft-repeated tale of strife,
+ The feast of vultures, and the waste of life? 910
+ The varying fortune of each separate field,
+ The fierce that vanquish, and the faint that yield?
+ The smoking ruin, and the crumbled wall?
+ In this the struggle was the same with all;
+ Save that distempered passions lent their force
+ In bitterness that banished all remorse.
+ None sued, for Mercy knew her cry was vain,
+ The captive died upon the battle-plain:[kq]
+ In either cause, one rage alone possessed
+ The empire of the alternate victor's breast; 920
+ And they that smote for freedom or for sway,
+ Deemed few were slain, while more remained to slay.
+ It was too late to check the wasting brand,
+ And Desolation reaped the famished land;
+ The torch was lighted, and the flame was spread,
+ And Carnage smiled upon her daily dead.
+
+ XI.
+
+ Fresh with the nerve the new-born impulse strung,
+ The first success to Lara's numbers clung:
+ But that vain victory hath ruined all;
+ They form no longer to their leader's call: 930
+ In blind confusion on the foe they press,
+ And think to snatch is to secure success.
+ The lust of booty, and the thirst of hate,
+ Lure on the broken brigands to their fate:
+ In vain he doth whate'er a chief may do,
+ To check the headlong fury of that crew;
+ In vain their stubborn ardour he would tame,
+ The hand that kindles cannot quench the flame;
+ The wary foe alone hath turned their mood,
+ And shown their rashness to that erring brood: 940
+ The feigned retreat, the nightly ambuscade,
+ The daily harass, and the fight delayed,
+ The long privation of the hoped supply,
+ The tentless rest beneath the humid sky,
+ The stubborn wall that mocks the leaguer's art,
+ And palls the patience of his baffled art,
+ Of these they had not deemed: the battle-day
+ They could encounter as a veteran may;
+ But more preferred the fury of the strife,[kr]
+ And present death, to hourly suffering life: 950
+ And Famine wrings, and Fever sweeps away
+ His numbers melting fast from their array;
+ Intemperate triumph fades to discontent,
+ And Lara's soul alone seems still unbent;
+ But few remain to aid his voice and hand,
+ And thousands dwindled to a scanty band:
+ Desperate, though few, the last and best remained
+ To mourn the discipline they late disdained.
+ One hope survives, the frontier is not far,
+ And thence they may escape from native war: 960
+ And bear within them to the neighbouring state
+ An exile's sorrows, or an outlaw's hate:
+ Hard is the task their father-land to quit,
+ But harder still to perish or submit.
+
+ XII.
+
+ It is resolved--they march--consenting Night
+ Guides with her star their dim and torchless flight;
+ Already they perceive its tranquil beam
+ Sleep on the surface of the barrier stream;
+ Already they descry--Is yon the bank?
+ Away! 'tis lined with many a hostile rank. 970
+ Return or fly!--What glitters in the rear?
+ 'Tis Otho's banner--the pursuer's spear!
+ Are those the shepherds' fires upon the height?
+ Alas! they blaze too widely for the flight:
+ Cut off from hope, and compassed in the toil,
+ Less blood perchance hath bought a richer spoil!
+
+ XIII.
+
+ A moment's pause--'tis but to breathe their band,
+ Or shall they onward press, or here withstand?
+ It matters little--if they charge the foes
+ Who by their border-stream their march oppose, 980
+ Some few, perchance, may break and pass the line,
+ However linked to baffle such design.
+ "The charge be ours! to wait for their assault
+ Were fate well worthy of a coward's halt."
+ Forth flies each sabre, reined is every steed,
+ And the next word shall scarce outstrip the deed:
+ In the next tone of Lara's gathering breath
+ How many shall but hear the voice of Death!
+
+ XIV.
+
+ His blade is bared,--in him there is an air
+ As deep, but far too tranquil for despair; 990
+ A something of indifference more than then
+ Becomes the bravest, if they feel for men--
+ He turned his eye on Kaled, ever near,
+ And still too faithful to betray one fear;
+ Perchance 'twas but the moon's dim twilight threw
+ Along his aspect an unwonted hue
+ Of mournful paleness, whose deep tint expressed
+ The truth, and not the terror of his breast.
+ This Lara marked, and laid his hand on his:
+ It trembled not in such an hour as this; 1000
+ His lip was silent, scarcely beat his heart,
+ His eye alone proclaimed, "We will not part!
+ Thy band may perish, or thy friends may flee,
+ Farewell to Life--but not Adieu to thee!"
+
+ The word hath passed his lips, and onward driven,
+ Pours the linked band through ranks asunder riven:
+ Well has each steed obeyed the arméd heel,
+ And flash the scimitars, and rings the steel;
+ Outnumbered, not outbraved, they still oppose
+ Despair to daring, and a front to foes; 1010
+ And blood is mingled with the dashing stream,
+ Which runs all redly till the morning beam.[ks]
+
+ XV.[282]
+
+ Commanding--aiding--animating all,[283]
+ Where foe appeared to press, or friend to fall,
+ Cheers Lara's voice, and waves or strikes his steel,
+ Inspiring hope, himself had ceased to feel.
+ None fled, for well they knew that flight were vain;
+ But those that waver turn to smite again,
+ While yet they find the firmest of the foe
+ Recoil before their leader's look and blow: 1020
+ Now girt with numbers, now almost alone,
+ He foils their ranks, or re-unites his own;
+ Himself he spared not--once they seemed to fly--
+ Now was the time, he waved his hand on high,
+ And shook--Why sudden droops that pluméd crest?
+ The shaft is sped--the arrow's in his breast!
+ That fatal gesture left the unguarded side,
+ And Death has stricken down yon arm of pride.
+ The word of triumph fainted from his tongue;
+ That hand, so raised, how droopingly it hung! 1030
+ But yet the sword instinctively retains,
+ Though from its fellow shrink the falling reins;
+ These Kaled snatches: dizzy with the blow,
+ And senseless bending o'er his saddle-bow,
+ Perceives not Lara that his anxious page
+ Beguiles his charger from the combat's rage:
+ Meantime his followers charge, and charge again;
+ Too mixed the slayers now to heed the slain!
+
+ XVI.
+
+ Day glimmers on the dying and the dead,
+ The cloven cuirass, and the helmless head; 1040
+ The war-horse masterless is on the earth,[kt][284]
+ And that last gasp hath burst his bloody girth;
+ And near, yet quivering with what life remained,
+ The heel that urged him and the hand that reined;
+ And some too near that rolling torrent lie,[ku]
+ Whose waters mock the lip of those that die;
+ That panting thirst which scorches in the breath
+ Of those that die the soldier's fiery death,
+ In vain impels the burning mouth to crave
+ One drop--the last--to cool it for the grave; 1050
+ With feeble and convulsive effort swept,
+ Their limbs along the crimsoned turf have crept;
+ The faint remains of life such struggles waste,
+ But yet they reach the stream, and bend to taste:
+ They feel its freshness, and almost partake--
+ Why pause? No further thirst have they to slake--
+ It is unquenched, and yet they feel it not;
+ It was an agony--but now forgot!
+
+ XVII.
+
+ Beneath a lime, remoter from the scene,
+ Where but for him that strife had never been, 1060
+ A breathing but devoted warrior lay:
+ 'Twas Lara bleeding fast from life away.
+ His follower once, and now his only guide,
+ Kneels Kaled watchful o'er his welling side,
+ And with his scarf would staunch the tides that rush,
+ With each convulsion, in a blacker gush;
+ And then, as his faint breathing waxes low,
+ In feebler, not less fatal tricklings flow:
+ He scarce can speak, but motions him 'tis vain,
+ And merely adds another throb to pain. 1070
+ He clasps the hand that pang which would assuage,
+ And sadly smiles his thanks to that dark page,
+ Who nothing fears--nor feels--nor heeds--nor sees--
+ Save that damp brow which rests upon his knees;
+ Save that pale aspect, where the eye, though dim,
+ Held all the light that shone on earth for him.
+
+ XVIII.
+
+ The foe arrives, who long had searched the field,
+ Their triumph nought till Lara too should yield:
+ They would remove him, but they see 'twere vain,
+ And he regards them with a calm disdain, 1080
+ That rose to reconcile him with his fate,
+ And that escape to death from living hate:
+ And Otho comes, and leaping from his steed,
+ Looks on the bleeding foe that made him bleed,
+ And questions of his state; he answers not,
+ Scarce glances on him as on one forgot,
+ And turns to Kaled:--each remaining word
+ They understood not, if distinctly heard;
+ His dying tones are in that other tongue,
+ To which some strange remembrance wildly clung. 1090
+ They spake of other scenes, but what--is known
+ To Kaled, whom their meaning reached alone;
+ And he replied, though faintly, to their sound,
+ While gazed the rest in dumb amazement round:
+ They seemed even then--that twain--unto the last
+ To half forget the present in the past;
+ To share between themselves some separate fate,
+ Whose darkness none beside should penetrate.
+
+ XIX.[285]
+
+ Their words though faint were many--from the tone
+ Their import those who heard could judge alone; 1100
+ From this, you might have deemed young Kaled's death
+ More near than Lara's by his voice and breath,
+ So sad--so deep--and hesitating broke
+ The accents his scarce-moving pale lips spoke;[kv]
+ But Lara's voice, though low, at first was clear
+ And calm, till murmuring Death gasped hoarsely near;
+ But from his visage little could we guess,
+ So unrepentant--dark--and passionless,[kw]
+ Save that when struggling nearer to his last,
+ Upon that page his eye was kindly cast; 1110
+ And once, as Kaled's answering accents ceased,
+ Rose Lara's hand, and pointed to the East:
+ Whether (as then the breaking Sun from high
+ Rolled back the clouds) the morrow caught his eye,
+ Or that 'twas chance--or some remembered scene,
+ That raised his arm to point where such had been,
+ Scarce Kaled seemed to know, but turned away,
+ As if his heart abhorred that coming day,
+ And shrunk his glance before that morning light,
+ To look on Lara's brow--where all grew night. 1120
+ Yet sense seemed left, though better were its loss;
+ For when one near displayed the absolving Cross,
+ And proffered to his touch the holy bead,
+ Of which his parting soul might own the need,
+ He looked upon it with an eye profane,
+ And smiled--Heaven pardon! if 'twere with disdain:
+ And Kaled, though he spoke not, nor withdrew
+ From Lara's face his fixed despairing view,
+ With brow repulsive, and with gesture swift,
+ Flung back the hand which held the sacred gift, 1130
+ As if such but disturbed the expiring man,
+ Nor seemed to know his life but _then_ began--
+ That Life of Immortality, secure[kx]
+ To none, save them whose faith in Christ is sure.
+
+ XX.
+
+ But gasping heaved the breath that Lara drew,[ky]
+ And dull the film along his dim eye grew;
+ His limbs stretched fluttering, and his head drooped o'er
+ The weak yet still untiring knee that bore;
+ He pressed the hand he held upon his heart--
+ It beats no more, but Kaled will not part 1140
+ With the cold grasp, but feels, and feels in vain,
+ For that faint throb which answers not again.
+ "It beats!"--Away, thou dreamer! he is gone--
+ It once _was_ Lara which thou look'st upon.
+
+ XXI.
+
+ He gazed, as if not yet had passed away[kz]
+ The haughty spirit of that humbled clay;
+ And those around have roused him from his trance,
+ But cannot tear from thence his fixéd glance;
+ And when, in raising him from where he bore
+ Within his arms the form that felt no more, 1150
+ He saw the head his breast would still sustain,
+ Roll down like earth to earth upon the plain;
+ He did not dash himself thereby, nor tear
+ The glossy tendrils of his raven hair,
+ But strove to stand and gaze, but reeled and fell,
+ Scarce breathing more than that he loved so well.
+ Than that _he_ loved! Oh! never yet beneath
+ The breast of _man_ such trusty love may breathe!
+ That trying moment hath at once revealed
+ The secret long and yet but half concealed; 1160
+ In baring to revive that lifeless breast,
+ Its grief seemed ended, but the sex confessed;
+ And life returned, and Kaled felt no shame--
+ What now to her was Womanhood or Fame?
+
+ XXII.
+
+ And Lara sleeps not where his fathers sleep,
+ But where he died his grave was dug as deep;
+ Nor is his mortal slumber less profound,
+ Though priest nor blessed nor marble decked the mound,
+ And he was mourned by one whose quiet grief,
+ Less loud, outlasts a people's for their Chief. 1170
+ Vain was all question asked her of the past,
+ And vain e'en menace--silent to the last;
+ She told nor whence, nor why she left behind
+ Her all for one who seemed but little kind.
+ Why did she love him? Curious fool!--be still--
+ Is human love the growth of human will?
+ To her he might be gentleness; the stern
+ Have deeper thoughts than your dull eyes discern,
+ And when they love, your smilers guess not how
+ Beats the strong heart, though less the lips avow. 1180
+ They were not common links, that formed the chain
+ That bound to Lara Kaled's heart and brain;
+ But that wild tale she brooked not to unfold,
+ And sealed is now each lip that could have told.
+
+ XXIII.
+
+ They laid him in the earth, and on his breast,
+ Besides the wound that sent his soul to rest,
+ They found the scattered dints of many a scar,
+ Which were not planted there in recent war;
+ Where'er had passed his summer years of life,
+ It seems they vanished in a land of strife; 1190
+ But all unknown his Glory or his Guilt,[la]
+ These only told that somewhere blood was spilt,
+ And Ezzelin, who might have spoke the past,
+ Returned no more--that night appeared his last.
+
+ XXIV.
+
+ Upon that night (a peasant's is the tale)
+ A Serf that crossed the intervening vale,[286]
+ When Cynthia's light almost gave way to morn,
+ And nearly veiled in mist her waning horn;
+ A Serf, that rose betimes to thread the wood,
+ And hew the bough that bought his children's food, 1200
+ Passed by the river that divides the plain
+ Of Otho's lands and Lara's broad domain:
+ He heard a tramp--a horse and horseman broke
+ From out the wood--before him was a cloak
+ Wrapt round some burthen at his saddle-bow,
+ Bent was his head, and hidden was his brow.
+ Roused by the sudden sight at such a time,
+ And some foreboding that it might be crime,
+ Himself unheeded watched the stranger's course,
+ Who reached the river, bounded from his horse, 1210
+ And lifting thence the burthen which he bore,
+ Heaved up the bank, and dashed it from the shore,
+ Then paused--and looked--and turned--and seemed to watch,
+ And still another hurried glance would snatch,
+ And follow with his step the stream that flowed,
+ As if even yet too much its surface showed;
+ At once he started--stooped--around him strown
+ The winter floods had scattered heaps of stone:
+ Of these the heaviest thence he gathered there,
+ And slung them with a more than common care. 1220
+ Meantime the Serf had crept to where unseen
+ Himself might safely mark what this might mean;
+ He caught a glimpse, as of a floating breast,
+ And something glittered starlike on the vest;
+ But ere he well could mark the buoyant trunk,
+ A massy fragment smote it, and it sunk:[lb]
+ It rose again, but indistinct to view,
+ And left the waters of a purple hue,
+ Then deeply disappeared: the horseman gazed
+ Till ebbed the latest eddy it had raised; 1230
+ Then turning, vaulted on his pawing steed,
+ And instant spurred him into panting speed.
+ His face was masked--the features of the dead,
+ If dead it were, escaped the observer's dread;
+ But if in sooth a Star its bosom bore,
+ Such is the badge that Knighthood ever wore,
+ And such 'tis known Sir Ezzelin had worn
+ Upon the night that led to such a morn.
+ If thus he perished, Heaven receive his soul!
+ His undiscovered limbs to ocean roll; 1240
+ And charity upon the hope would dwell
+ It was not Lara's hand by which he fell.[lc]
+
+ XXV.
+
+ And Kaled--Lara--Ezzelin, are gone,
+ Alike without their monumental stone!
+ The first, all efforts vainly strove to wean
+ From lingering where her Chieftain's blood had been:
+ Grief had so tamed a spirit once too proud,
+ Her tears were few, her wailing never loud;
+ But furious would you tear her from the spot
+ Where yet she scarce believed that he was not, 1250
+ Her eye shot forth with all the living fire
+ That haunts the tigress in her whelpless ire;
+ But left to waste her weary moments there,
+ She talked all idly unto shapes of air,
+ Such as the busy brain of Sorrow paints,
+ And woos to listen to her fond complaints:
+ And she would sit beneath the very tree
+ Where lay his drooping head upon her knee;
+ And in that posture where she saw him fall,
+ His words, his looks, his dying grasp recall; 1260
+ And she had shorn, but saved her raven hair,
+ And oft would snatch it from her bosom there,
+ And fold, and press it gently to the ground,
+ As if she staunched anew some phantom's wound.[ld]
+ Herself would question, and for him reply;
+ Then rising, start, and beckon him to fly
+ From some imagined Spectre in pursuit;
+ Then seat her down upon some linden's root,
+ And hide her visage with her meagre hand,
+ Or trace strange characters along the sand-- 1270
+ This could not last--she lies by him she loved;
+ Her tale untold--her truth too dearly proved.
+
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[jb] {323} _Lara the sequel of "the Corsair_."--[MS. erased.]
+
+[265] [A revised version of the following "Advertisement" was prefixed
+to the First Edition (Printed for J. Murray, Albemarle Street, By T.
+Davison, Whitefriars, 1814), which was accompanied by _Jacqueline:_--
+
+ "The Reader--if the tale of _Lara_ has the fortune to meet with
+ one--may probably regard it as a sequel to the _Corsair_;--the
+ colouring is of a similar cast, and although the situations of the
+ characters are changed, the stories are in some measure connected.
+ The countenance is nearly the same--but with a different
+ expression. To the readers' conjecture are left the name of the
+ writer and the failure or success of his attempt--the latter are
+ the only points upon which the author or his judges can feel
+ interested.
+
+ "The Poem of _Jaqueline_ is the production of a different author
+ and is added at the request of the writer of the former tale, whose
+ wish and entreaty it was that it should occupy the first pages of
+ the following volume, and he regrets that the tenacious courtesy of
+ his friend would not permit him to place it where the judgement of
+ the reader concurring with his own will suggest its more
+ appropriate station."]
+
+[266] The reader is apprised, that the name of Lara being Spanish, and
+no circumstance of local and natural description fixing the scene or
+hero of the poem to any country or age, the word "Serf," which could not
+be correctly applied to the lower classes in Spain, who were never
+vassals of the soil, has nevertheless been employed to designate the
+followers of our fictitious chieftain.
+
+[Byron, writing to Murray, July 14, 1814, says, "The name only is
+Spanish; the country is not Spain, but the Moon" (not "Morea," as
+hitherto printed).--_Letters_, 1899, iii. 110. The MS. is dated May 15,
+1814.]
+
+[267] {324} [For the opening lines to _Lara_, see _Murray's Magazine_,
+January, 1887, vol. i. p. 3.]
+
+[268] [Compare _Childish Recollections_, lines 221-224--
+
+ "Can Rank, or e'en a Guardian's name supply
+ The love, which glistens in a Father's eye?
+ For this, can Wealth, or Title's sound atone,
+ Made, by a Parent's early loss, my own?"
+
+Compare, too, _English Bards, etc._, lines 689-694, _Poetical Works_,
+1898, i. 95, 352.]
+
+[jc] _First in each folly--nor the last in vice_.--[MS. erased]
+
+[jd] {325} _Short was the course the beardless wanderer run_.--[MS.]
+
+[je] _Another chief had won_----.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[jf] _His friends forgot him--and his dog had died_.--[MS.]
+
+[jg] _Without one rumour to relieve his care_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[jh] _That most might decorate that gloomy pile_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[269] {326} [The construction is harsh and obscure, but the meaning is,
+perhaps, that, though Lara's soul was haughty, his sins were due to
+nothing worse than pleasure, that they were the natural sins of youth.]
+
+[ji] {328} _Their refuge in intensity of thought_.--[MS.]
+
+[jj] {329} _The sound of other voices than his own_.--[MS.]
+
+[270] ["The circumstance of his having at this time [1808-9] among the
+ornaments of his study, a number of skulls highly polished, and placed
+on light stands round the room, would seem to indicate that he rather
+courted than shunned such gloomy associations."--_Life_, p. 87.]
+
+[271] [Compare--
+
+ "His train but deemed the favourite page
+ Was left behind to spare his age,
+ Or other if they deemed, none dared
+ To mutter what he thought or heard."
+ _Marmion_, Canto III. stanza xv. lines 19-22.]
+
+[272] [Compare--
+
+ "Sweetly shining on the eye,
+ A rivulet gliding smoothly by;
+ Which shows with what an easy tide
+ The moments of the happy glide."
+
+ Dyer's _Country Walk_ (_Poetical Works of Armstrong,
+ Dyer, and Green_, 1858, p. 221).]
+
+[273] {331} ["He used, at first, though offered a bed at Annesley, to
+return every night to Newstead, to sleep; alleging as a reason that he
+was afraid of the family pictures of the Chaworths."--_Life_, p. 27.]
+
+[jk] ----_knelt in painted prayer_.--[MS.]
+
+[jl] _His aspect all that best becomes the grave_.--[MS.]
+
+[jm] {333} ----_along the gallery crawl_.--[MS.]
+
+[jn] {334}
+ _Opinion various as his varying eye_
+ _In praise or railing--never passed him by_.--[MS.]
+
+[jo] {335} ----_gayest of the gay_.--[MS.]
+
+[274] [The MS. omits lines 313-382. Stanza xviii. is written on a loose
+sheet belonging to the Murray MSS.; stanza xix. on a sheet inserted in
+the MS. Both stanzas must have been composed after the first draft of
+the poem was completed.]
+
+[jp] ----_an inward scorn of all_.--[MS.]
+
+[275] {336} [Compare Coleridge's _Lines to a Gentleman_ [William
+Wordsworth] (written in 1807, but not published till 1817), lines 69,
+70--
+
+ "Sense of past youth, and manhood come in vain,
+ And genius given, and knowledge won in vain."]
+
+[jq]
+ _And left Reflection: loth himself to blame,_
+ _He called on Nature's self to share the shame_.--[MS.]
+
+[jr] _And half mistook for fate his wayward will_.--[MS.]
+
+[276] [For Byron's belief or half-persuasion that he was predestined to
+evil, compare _Childe Harold_, Canto I. stanza lxxxiii. lines 8, 9, and
+note. Compare, too, Canto III. stanza lxx. lines 8 and 9; and Canto IV.
+stanza xxxiv. line 6: _Poetical Works_, 1899, ii, 74, 260, 354.]
+
+[js] {337}
+ ----_around another's mind;_
+ _There he was fixed_----.--[MS.]
+
+[jt] {338}
+ _That friendship, interest, aversion knew_
+ _But there within your inmost_----.--[MS.]
+
+[ju]
+ _Yes you might hate abhor, but from the breast_
+ _He wrung an all unwilling interest_--
+ _Vain was the struggle, in that sightless net_.--[MS.]
+
+[jv] _So springs the exulting spirit_--.--[MS.]
+
+[jw] {339} _That question thus repeated--Thrice and high_.--[MS.]
+
+[jx] {340}
+ _Art thou not he who_----"
+ "_Whatso'eer I be._--[MS.]
+
+[jy] {342}
+ _"Tomorrow!--aye--tomorrow" these were all_
+ _The words from Lara's answering lip that fall_.--[MS.]
+
+[jz] {343} _That brought their native echoes to his ear_.--[MS.]
+
+[ka] _From high and quickened into life and thought_.--[MS.]
+
+[kb] {344}
+ _Though no reluctance checked his willing hand,_
+ _He still obeyed as others would command_.--[MS.]
+
+[kc]
+ _To tune his lute and, if none else were there,_
+ _To fill the cup in which himself might share_.--[MS.]
+
+[kd] {345} _Yet still existed there though still supprest_.--[ms]
+
+[ke] _And when the slaves and pages round him told_.--[ms]
+
+[277] {346} [Compare--
+
+ "Strange things I have in head, that will to hand,
+ Which must be acted, ere they may be scanned."
+ _Macbeth_, act iii. sc. 4, lines 139, 140.]
+
+[kf] {347} _There lie the lover's hope--the watcher's toil_.--[MS.]
+
+[kg] _And half-Existence melts within a grave_.--[MS.]
+
+[278] {348} [Compare--
+
+ "Now slowly melting into day,
+ Vapour and mist dissolved away."
+
+Sotheby's _Constance de Castile_, Canto III. stanza v. lines 17, 18.]
+
+[279] [Compare the last lines of Pippa's song in Browning's _Pippa
+Passes_--"God's in His Heaven, all's right with the world!"]
+
+[280] [Mr. Alexander Dyce points out the resemblance between these lines
+and a passage in one of Pope's letters to Steele (July 15, 1712,
+_Works_, 1754, viii. 226): "The morning after my exit the sun will rise
+as bright as ever, the flowers smell as sweet, the plants spring as
+green."]
+
+[kh] {349} _When Ezzelin_----.--[Ed. 1831.]
+
+[ki] _Here in thy hall_----.--[MS.]
+
+[281] {351} [Compare _Mysteries of Udolpho_, by Mrs. Ann Radcliffe,
+1794, ii. 279: "The Count then fell back into the arms of his servants,
+while Montoni held his sword over him and bade him ask his life ... his
+complexion changed almost to blackness as he looked upon his fallen
+adversary."]
+
+[kj] _And turned to smite a foe already felled_.--[MS.]
+
+[kk] _And he less calm--yet calmer than them all_.--[MS.]
+
+[kl] {353} ----_the blind and headlong rage_.--[MS.]
+
+[km] {354}
+ _The first impressions with his milder sway_
+ _Of dread_----.--[MS.]
+
+[kn] _Mysterious gloom around his hall and state_.--[MS.]
+
+[ko] {355} _The Beauty--which the first success would snatch_.--[MS.]
+
+[kp] {356}
+ _A word's enough to rouse mankind to kill_
+ _Some factions phrase by cunning raised and spread_.--[MS.]
+
+[kq] {357} ----_upon the battle slain_.--[Ed. 1831.]
+
+[kr] {358} _But not endure the long protracted strife_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[ks] {360} _And raged the combat till_----.--[MS.]
+
+[282] {361} [Stanza XV. was added after the completion of the first
+draft of the poem.]
+
+[283] [Compare--
+ "Il s'excite, il s'empresse, il inspire aux soldats
+ Cet espoir généreux que lui-même il n'a pas."
+ Voltaire, _Henriade_, Chant. viii. lines 127, 128,
+ _Oeuvres Complêtes_, Paris, 1837, ii. 325.]
+
+[kt] {362} _The stiffening steed is on the dinted earth_.--[MS.]
+
+[284] [Compare--
+ "There lay a horse, another through the field
+ Ran masterless."
+ Tasso's _Jerusalem_ (translated by Edward Fairfax),
+ Bk. VII. stanza cvi. lines 3, 4.]
+
+[ku] ----_that glassy river lie_.--[MS.]
+
+[285] {364} [Stanza xix. was added after the completion of the poem. The
+MS. is extant.]
+
+[kv] ----_white lips spoke_.--[MS.]
+
+[kw] ----_pale--and passionless_.--[MS.]
+
+[kx] {365}
+ _That Life--immortal--infinite secure_
+ _To All for whom that Cross hath made it sure_.--
+ [MS. First ed. 1814.]
+ or,
+ _That life immortal, infinite and sure_
+ _To all whose faith the eternal boon secure_.--[MS.]
+
+[ky] _But faint the dying Lara's accents grew_.--[MS.]
+
+[kz]
+ _He gazed as doubtful that the thing he saw_
+ _Had something more to ask from Lone or awe_.--[MS.]
+
+[la] {367}
+ _But all unknown the blood he lost or spilt_
+ _These only told his Glory or his Guilt_.--[MS.]
+
+[286] The event in this section was suggested by the description of the
+death or rather burial of the Duke of Gandia. "The most interesting and
+particular account of it is given by Burchard, and is in substance as
+follows:--'On the eighth day of June, the Cardinal of Valenza and the
+Duke of Gandia, sons of the pope, supped with their mother, Vanozza,
+near the church of _S. Pietro ad vincula_: several other persons being
+present at the entertainment. A late hour approaching, and the cardinal
+having reminded his brother that it was time to return to the apostolic
+palace, they mounted their horses or mules, with only a few attendants,
+and proceeded together as far as the palace of Cardinal Ascanio Sforza,
+when the duke informed the cardinal that, before he returned home, he
+had to pay a visit of pleasure. Dismissing therefore all his attendants,
+excepting his _staffiero_, or footman, and a person in a mask, who had
+paid him a visit whilst at supper, and who, during the space of a month
+or thereabouts, previous to this time, had called upon him almost daily
+at the apostolic palace, he took this person behind him on his mule, and
+proceeded to the street of the Jews, where he quitted his servant,
+directing him to remain there until a certain hour; when, if he did not
+return, he might repair to the palace. The duke then seated the person
+in the mask behind him, and rode I know not whither; but in that night
+he was assassinated, and thrown into the river. The servant, after
+having been dismissed, was also assaulted and mortally wounded; and
+although he was attended with great care, yet such was his situation,
+that he could give no intelligible account of what had befallen his
+master. In the morning, the duke not having returned to the palace, his
+servants began to be alarmed; and one of them informed the pontiff of
+the evening excursion of his sons, and that the duke had not yet made
+his appearance. This gave the pope no small anxiety; but he conjectured
+that the duke had been attracted by some courtesan to pass the night
+with her, and, not choosing to quit the house in open day, had waited
+till the following evening to return home. When, however, the evening
+arrived, and he found himself disappointed in his expectations, he
+became deeply afflicted, and began to make inquiries from different
+persons, whom he ordered to attend him for that purpose. Amongst these
+was a man named Giorgio Schiavoni, who, having discharged some timber
+from a bark in the river, had remained on board the vessel to watch it;
+and being interrogated whether he had seen any one thrown into the river
+on the night preceding, he replied, that he saw two men on foot, who
+came down the street, and looked diligently about to observe whether any
+person was passing. That seeing no one, they returned, and a short time
+afterwards two others came, and looked around in the same manner as the
+former: no person still appearing, they gave a sign to their companions,
+when a man came, mounted on a white horse, having behind him a dead
+body, the head and arms of which hung on one side, and the feet on the
+other side of the horse; the two persons on foot supporting the body, to
+prevent its falling. They thus proceeded towards that part where the
+filth of the city is usually discharged into the river, and turning the
+horse, with his tail towards the water, the two persons took the dead
+body by the arms and feet, and with all their strength flung it into the
+river. The person on horseback then asked if they had thrown it in; to
+which they replied, _Signor, si_ (yes, Sir). He then looked towards the
+river, and seeing a mantle floating on the stream, he enquired what it
+was that appeared black, to which they answered, it was a mantle; and
+one of them threw stones upon it, in consequence of which it sunk. The
+attendants of the pontiff then enquired from Giorgio, why he had not
+revealed this to the governor of the city; to which he replied, that he
+had seen in his time a hundred dead bodies thrown into the river at the
+same place, without any inquiry being made respecting them; and that he
+had not, therefore, considered it as a matter of any importance. The
+fishermen and seamen were then collected, and ordered to search the
+river, where, on the following evening, they found the body of the duke,
+with his habit entire, and thirty ducats in his purse. He was pierced
+with nine wounds, one of which was in his throat, the others in his
+head, body, and limbs. No sooner was the pontiff informed of the death
+of his son, and that he had been thrown, like filth, into the river,
+than, giving way to his grief, he shut himself up in a chamber, and wept
+bitterly. The Cardinal of Segovia, and other attendants on the pope,
+went to the door, and after many hours spent in persuasions and
+exhortations, prevailed upon him to admit them. From the evening of
+Wednesday till the following Saturday the pope took no food; nor did he
+sleep from Thursday morning till the same hour on the ensuing day. At
+length, however, giving way to the entreaties of his attendants, he
+began to restrain his sorrow, and to consider the injury which his own
+health might sustain by the further indulgence of his grief.'"--Roscoe's
+_Life and Pontificate of Leo Tenth_, 1805, i. 265. [See, too, for the
+original in _Burchard Diar_, in Gordon's _Life of Alex. VI., Append._,
+"De Cæde Ducis Gandiæ," _Append._ No. xlviii., _ib._, pp. 90, 91.]
+
+[lb] {370} _A mighty pebble_----.--[MS.]
+
+[lc] _That not unarmed in combat fair he fell_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[ld] {371} ----_some phantom wound_.--[MS.]
+
+
+
+
+ HEBREW MELODIES
+
+
+
+
+ INTRODUCTION TO _HEBREW MELODIES_
+
+
+According to the "Advertisement" prefixed to Murray's First Edition of
+the _Hebrew Melodies_, London, 1815 (the date, January, 1815, was
+appended in 1832), the "poems were written at the request of the
+author's friend, the Hon. D. Kinnaird, for a selection of Hebrew
+Melodies, and have been published, with the music, arranged by Mr.
+Braham and Mr. Nathan."
+
+Byron's engagement to Miss Milbanke took place in September, 1814, and
+the remainder of the year was passed in London, at his chambers in the
+Albany. The so-called _Hebrew Melodies_ were, probably, begun in the
+late autumn of that year, and were certainly finished at Seaham, after
+his marriage had taken place, in January-February, 1815. It is a natural
+and pardonable conjecture that Byron took to writing sacred or, at any
+rate, scriptural verses by way of giving pleasure and doing honour to
+his future wife, "the girl who gave to song What gold could never buy."
+They were, so to speak, the first-fruits of a seemlier muse.
+
+It is probable that the greater number of these poems were in MS. before
+it occurred to Byron's friend and banker, the Honble. Douglas James
+William Kinnaird (1788-1830), to make him known to Isaac Nathan
+(1792-1864), a youthful composer of "musical farces and operatic works,"
+who had been destined by his parents for the Hebrew priesthood, but had
+broken away, and, after some struggles, succeeded in qualifying himself
+as a musician.
+
+Byron took a fancy to Nathan, and presented him with the copyright of
+his "poetical effusions," on the understanding that they were to be set
+to music and sung in public by John Braham. "Professional occupations"
+prevented Braham from fulfilling his part of the engagement, but a
+guinea folio (Part. I.) ("_Selections of Hebrew Melodies, Ancient and
+Modern_, with appropriate symphonies and accompaniments, by I. Braham
+and I. Nathan, the poetry written expressly for the work by the Right
+Honourable Lord Byron")--with an ornamental title-page designed by the
+architect Edward Blore (1789-1879), and dedicated to the Princess
+Charlotte of Wales--was published in April, 1815. A second part was
+issued in 1816.
+
+The preface, part of which was reprinted (p. vi.) by Nathan, in his
+_Fugitive Pieces and Reminiscences of Lord Byron_, London, 1829, is not
+without interest--
+
+ "The Hebrew Melodies are a selection from the favourite airs which
+ are still sung in the religious ceremonies of the Jews. Some of
+ these have, in common with all their Sacred airs, been preserved by
+ memory and tradition alone, without the assistance of written
+ characters. Their age and originality, therefore, must be left to
+ conjecture. But the latitude given to the taste and genius of their
+ performers has been the means of engrafting on the original
+ Melodies a certain wildness and pathos, which have at length become
+ the chief characteristics of the sacred songs of the Jews....
+
+ "Of the poetry it is necessary to speak, in order thus publicly to
+ acknowledge the kindness with which Lord Byron has condescended to
+ furnish the most valuable part of the work. It has been our
+ endeavour to select such melodies as would best suit the style and
+ sentiment of the poetry."
+
+Moore, for whose benefit the Melodies had been rehearsed, was by no
+means impressed by their "wildness and pathos," and seems to have
+twitted Byron on the subject, or, as he puts it (_Life_, p. 276), to
+have taken the liberty of "laughing a little at the manner in which some
+of the Hebrew Melodies had been set to music." The author of _Sacred
+Songs_ (1814) set to airs by Beethoven, Mozart, Haydn, etc., was a
+critic not to be gainsaid, but from the half-comical petulance with
+which he "curses" and "sun-burns" (Letters to Moore, February 22, March
+8, 1815, _Letters_, 1899, iii. 179, 183) Nathan, and his "vile Ebrew
+nasalities," it is evident that Byron winced under Moore's "chaff."
+
+Apart from the merits or demerits of the setting, the title _Hebrew
+Melodies_ is somewhat misleading. Three love-songs, "She walks in Beauty
+like the Night," "Oh! snatched away in Beauty's Bloom," and "I saw thee
+weep," still form part of the collection; and, in Nathan's folio (which
+does not contain "A spirit passed before me"), two fragments, "It is the
+hour when from the boughs" and "Francesca walks in the shadow of night,"
+which were afterwards incorporated in _Parisina_, were included. The
+_Fugitive Pieces_, 1829, retain the fragments from _Parisina_, and add
+the following hitherto unpublished poems: "I speak not, I trace not,"
+etc., "They say that Hope is Happiness," and the genuine but rejected
+Hebrew Melody "In the valley of waters we wept on the day."
+
+It is uncertain when Murray's first edition appeared. Byron wrote to
+Nathan with regard to the copyright in January, 1815 (_Letters_, 1899,
+iii. 167), but it is unlikely that the volume was put on the market
+before Nathan's folio, which was advertised for the first time in the
+_Morning Chronicle_, April 6, 1815; and it is possible that the first
+public announcement of the _Hebrew Melodies_, as a separate issue, was
+made in the _Courier_, June 22, 1815.
+
+The _Hebrew Melodies_ were reviewed in the _Christian Observer_, August,
+1815, vol. xiv. p. 542; in the _Analectic Magazine_, October, 1815, vol.
+vi. p. 292; and were noticed by Jeffrey [The _Hebrew Melodies_, though
+"obviously inferior" to Lord Byron's other works, "display a skill in
+versification and a mastery in diction which would have raised an
+inferior artist to the very summit of distinction"] in the _Edinburgh
+Review_, December, 1816, vol. xxvii. p. 291.
+
+
+
+ ADVERTISEMENT
+
+The subsequent poems were written at the request of my friend, the Hon.
+Douglas Kinnaird, for a Selection of Hebrew Melodies, and have been
+published, with the music, arranged by Mr. Braham and Mr. Nathan.
+
+_January_, 1815.
+
+
+
+
+ HEBREW MELODIES
+
+
+
+ SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY.[287]
+
+ I.
+
+ She walks in Beauty, like the night
+ Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
+ And all that's best of dark and bright
+ Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
+ Thus mellowed to that tender light
+ Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.
+
+ II.
+
+ One shade the more, one ray the less,
+ Had half impaired the nameless grace
+ Which waves in every raven tress,
+ Or softly lightens o'er her face;
+ Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
+ How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
+
+ III.
+
+ And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
+ So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
+ The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
+ But tell of days in goodness spent,
+ A mind at peace with all below,
+ A heart whose love is innocent!
+
+ _June_ 12, 1814.
+
+
+
+ THE HARP THE MONARCH MINSTREL SWEPT.
+
+ I.
+
+ The Harp the Monarch Minstrel swept,[le]
+ The King of men, the loved of Heaven!
+ Which Music hallowed while she wept
+ O'er tones her heart of hearts had given--
+ Redoubled be her tears, its chords are riven!
+ It softened men of iron mould,
+ It gave them virtues not their own;
+ No ear so dull, no soul so cold,
+ That felt not--fired not to the tone,
+ Till David's Lyre grew mightier than his Throne!
+
+ II.
+
+ It told the triumphs of our King,[lf]
+ It wafted glory to our God;
+ It made our gladdened valleys ring,
+ The cedars bow, the mountains nod;
+ Its sound aspired to Heaven and there abode![288]
+ Since then, though heard on earth no more,[lg]
+ Devotion and her daughter Love
+ Still bid the bursting spirit soar
+ To sounds that seem as from above,
+ In dreams that day's broad light can not remove.
+
+
+
+ IF THAT HIGH WORLD.
+
+ I.
+
+ If that high world,[289] which lies beyond
+ Our own, surviving Love endears;
+ If there the cherished heart be fond,
+ The eye the same, except in tears--
+ How welcome those untrodden spheres!
+ How sweet this very hour to die!
+ To soar from earth and find all fears
+ Lost in thy light--Eternity!
+
+ II.
+
+ It must be so: 'tis not for self
+ That we so tremble on the brink;
+ And striving to o'erleap the gulf,
+ Yet cling to Being's severing link.[lh]
+ Oh! in that future let us think
+ To hold each heart the heart that shares,
+ With them the immortal waters drink,
+ And soul in soul grow deathless theirs!
+
+
+
+ THE WILD GAZELLE.
+
+ I.
+
+ The wild gazelle on Judah's hills
+ Exulting yet may bound,
+ And drink from all the living rills
+ That gush on holy ground;
+ Its airy step and glorious eye[290]
+ May glance in tameless transport by:--
+
+ II.
+
+ A step as fleet, an eye more bright,
+ Hath Judah witnessed there;
+ And o'er her scenes of lost delight
+ Inhabitants more fair.
+ The cedars wave on Lebanon,
+ But Judah's statelier maids are gone!
+
+ III.
+
+ Than Israel's scattered race;
+ For, taking root, it there remains
+ In solitary grace:
+ It cannot quit its place of birth,
+ It will not live in other earth.
+
+ IV.
+
+ But we must wander witheringly,
+ In other lands to die;
+ And where our fathers' ashes be,
+ Our own may never lie:
+ Our temple hath not left a stone,
+ And Mockery sits on Salem's throne.
+
+
+
+ OH! WEEP FOR THOSE.
+
+ I.
+
+ Oh! weep for those that wept by Babel's stream,
+ Whose shrines are desolate, whose land a dream;
+ Weep for the harp of Judah's broken shell;
+ Mourn--where their God hath dwelt the godless dwell!
+
+ II.
+
+ And where shall Israel lave her bleeding feet?
+ And when shall Zion's songs again seem sweet?
+ And Judah's melody once more rejoice
+ The hearts that leaped before its heavenly voice?
+
+ III.
+
+ Tribes of the wandering foot and weary breast,
+ How shall ye flee away and be at rest!
+ The wild-dove hath her nest, the fox his cave,
+ Mankind their country--Israel but the grave!
+
+
+
+ ON JORDAN'S BANKS.
+
+ I.
+
+ On Jordan's banks the Arab's camels stray,
+ On Sion's hill the False One's votaries pray,
+ The Baal-adorer bows on Sinai's steep--
+ Yet there--even there--Oh God! thy thunders sleep:
+
+ II.
+
+ There--where thy finger scorched the tablet stone!
+ There--where thy shadow to thy people shone!
+ Thy glory shrouded in its garb of fire:
+ Thyself--none living see and not expire!
+
+ III.
+
+ Oh! in the lightning let thy glance appear;
+ Sweep from his shivered hand the oppressor's spear!
+ How long by tyrants shall thy land be trod?
+ How long thy temple worshipless, Oh God?
+
+
+
+ JEPHTHA'S DAUGHTER.[291]
+
+ I.
+
+ Since our Country, our God--Oh, my Sire!
+ Demand that thy Daughter expire;
+ Since thy triumph was bought by thy vow--
+ Strike the bosom that's bared for thee now!
+
+ II.
+
+ And the voice of my mourning is o'er,
+ And the mountains behold me no more:
+ If the hand that I love lay me low,
+ There cannot be pain in the blow!
+
+ III.
+
+ And of this, oh, my Father! be sure--
+ That the blood of thy child is as pure
+ As the blessing I beg ere it flow,
+ And the last thought that soothes me below.
+
+ IV.
+
+ Though the virgins of Salem lament,
+ Be the judge and the hero unbent!
+ I have won the great battle for thee,
+ And my Father and Country are free!
+
+ V.
+
+ When this blood of thy giving hath gushed,
+ When the voice that thou lovest is hushed,
+ Let my memory still be thy pride,
+ And forget not I smiled as I died!
+
+
+
+ OH! SNATCHED AWAY IN BEAUTY'S BLOOM.[292]
+
+ I.
+
+ Oh! snatched away in beauty's bloom,
+ On thee shall press no ponderous tomb;
+ But on thy turf shall roses rear
+ Their leaves, the earliest of the year;
+ And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom:[li]
+
+ II.
+
+ And oft by yon blue gushing stream
+ Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head,[lj]
+ And feed deep thought with many a dream,
+ And lingering pause and lightly tread;
+ Fond wretch! as if her step disturbed the dead!
+
+ III.
+
+ Away! we know that tears are vain,
+ That Death nor heeds nor hears distress:
+ Will this unteach us to complain?
+ Or make one mourner weep the less?
+ And thou--who tell'st me to forget,[lk]
+ Thy looks are wan, thine eyes are wet.[ll][293]
+
+ [Published in the _Examiner_, April 23, 1815.]
+
+
+
+ MY SOUL IS DARK.
+
+ I.
+
+ My soul is dark--Oh! quickly string[294]
+ The harp I yet can brook to hear;
+ And let thy gentle fingers fling
+ Its melting murmurs o'er mine ear.
+ If in this heart a hope be dear,
+ That sound shall charm it forth again:
+ If in these eyes there lurk a tear,
+ 'Twill flow, and cease to burn my brain.
+
+ II.
+
+ But bid the strain be wild and deep,
+ Nor let thy notes of joy be first:
+ I tell thee, minstrel, I must weep,
+ Or else this heavy heart will burst;
+ For it hath been by sorrow nursed,
+ And ached in sleepless silence long;
+ And now 'tis doomed to know the worst,
+ And break at once--or yield to song.[295]
+
+
+
+ I SAW THEE WEEP.
+
+ I.
+
+ I saw thee weep--the big bright tear
+ Came o'er that eye of blue;[296]
+ And then methought it did appear
+ A violet dropping dew:
+ I saw thee smile--the sapphire's blaze
+ Beside thee ceased to shine;
+ It could not match the living rays
+ That filled that glance of thine.
+
+ II.
+
+ As clouds from yonder sun receive
+ A deep and mellow dye,
+ Which scarce the shade of coming eve
+ Can banish from the sky,
+ Those smiles unto the moodiest mind
+ Their own pure joy impart;
+ Their sunshine leaves a glow behind
+ That lightens o'er the heart.
+
+
+
+ THY DAYS ARE DONE.
+
+ I.
+
+ Thy days are done, thy fame begun;
+ Thy country's strains record
+ The triumphs of her chosen Son,
+ The slaughters of his sword!
+ The deeds he did, the fields he won,
+ The freedom he restored!
+
+ II.
+
+ Though thou art fall'n, while we are free
+ Thou shall not taste of death!
+ The generous blood that flowed from thee
+ Disdained to sink beneath:
+ Within our veins its currents be,
+ Thy spirit on our breath!
+
+ III.
+
+ Thy name, our charging hosts along,
+ Shall be the battle-word!
+ Thy fall, the theme of choral song
+ From virgin voices poured!
+ To weep would do thy glory wrong:
+ Thou shalt not be deplored.
+
+
+
+ SAUL.
+
+ I.
+
+ Thou whose spell can raise the dead,
+ Bid the Prophet's form appear.
+ "Samuel, raise thy buried head!
+ King, behold the phantom Seer!"
+ Earth yawned; he stood the centre of a cloud:
+ Light changed its hue, retiring from his shroud.[lm]
+ Death stood all glassy in his fixéd eye;
+ His hand was withered, and his veins were dry;
+ His foot, in bony whiteness, glittered there,
+ Shrunken and sinewless, and ghastly bare;
+ From lips that moved not and unbreathing frame,
+ Like caverned winds, the hollow accents came.
+ Saul saw, and fell to earth, as falls the oak,
+ At once, and blasted by the thunder-stroke.[ln]
+
+ II.
+
+ "Why is my sleep disquieted?
+ Who is he that calls the dead?
+ Is it thou, O King? Behold,
+ Bloodless are these limbs, and cold:[lo]
+ Such are mine; and such shall be
+ Thine to-morrow, when with me:
+ Ere the coming day is done,
+ Such shalt thou be--such thy Son.
+ Fare thee well, but for a day,
+ Then we mix our mouldering clay.
+ Thou--thy race, lie pale and low,
+ Pierced by shafts of many a bow;
+ And the falchion by thy side
+ To thy heart thy hand shall guide:
+ Crownless--breathless--headless fall,
+ Son and Sire--the house of Saul!"[297]
+
+ Seaham, _Feb._, 1815.
+
+
+
+ SONG OF SAUL BEFORE HIS LAST BATTLE.
+
+ I.
+
+ Warriors and chiefs! should the shaft or the sword
+ Pierce me in leading the host of the Lord,
+ Heed not the corse, though a King's, in your path:[lp]
+ Bury your steel in the bosoms of Gath!
+
+ II.
+
+ Thou who art bearing my buckler and bow,[lq]
+ Should the soldiers of Saul look away from the foe,
+ Stretch me that moment in blood at thy feet!
+ Mine be the doom which they dared not to meet.
+
+ III.
+
+ Farewell to others, but never we part,
+ Heir to my Royalty--Son of my heart![lr]
+ Bright is the diadem, boundless the sway,
+ Or kingly the death, which awaits us to-day!
+
+ Seaham, 1815.
+
+
+
+ "ALL IS VANITY, SAITH THE PREACHER"
+
+ I.
+
+ Fame, Wisdom, Love, and Power were mine,
+ And Health and Youth possessed me;
+ My goblets blushed from every vine,
+ And lovely forms caressed me;
+ I sunned my heart in Beauty's eyes,
+ And felt my soul grow tender;
+ All Earth can give, or mortal prize,
+ Was mine of regal splendour.
+
+ II.
+
+ I strive to number o'er what days[ls]
+ Remembrance can discover,
+ Which all that Life or Earth displays
+ Would lure me to live over.
+ There rose no day, there rolled no hour
+ Of pleasure unembittered;[298]
+ And not a trapping decked my Power
+ That galled not while it glittered.
+
+ III.[lt]
+
+ The serpent of the field, by art
+ And spells, is won from harming;
+ But that which coils around the heart,
+ Oh! who hath power of charming?
+ It will not list to Wisdom's lore,
+ Nor Music's voice can lure it;
+ But there it stings for evermore
+ The soul that must endure it.
+
+ Seaham, 1815.
+
+
+
+ WHEN COLDNESS WRAPS THIS SUFFERING CLAY.
+
+ I.
+
+ When coldness wraps this suffering clay,[lu]
+ Ah! whither strays the immortal mind?
+ It cannot die, it cannot stay,
+ But leaves its darkened dust behind.
+ Then, unembodied, doth it trace
+ By steps each planet's heavenly way?[lv]
+ Or fill at once the realms of space,
+ A thing of eyes, that all survey?
+
+ II.
+
+ Eternal--boundless,--undecayed,
+ A thought unseen, but seeing all,
+ All, all in earth, or skies displayed,[lw]
+ Shall it survey, shall it recall:
+ Each fainter trace that Memory holds
+ So darkly of departed years,
+ In one broad glance the Soul beholds,
+ And all, that was, at once appears.
+
+ III.
+
+ Before Creation peopled earth,
+ Its eye shall roll through chaos back;
+ And where the farthest heaven had birth,
+ The Spirit trace its rising track.
+ And where the future mars or makes,
+ Its glance dilate o'er all to be,
+ While Sun is quenched--or System breaks,
+ Fixed in its own Eternity.
+
+ IV.
+
+ Above or Love--Hope--Hate--or Fear,
+ It lives all passionless and pure:
+ An age shall fleet like earthly year;
+ Its years as moments shall endure.
+ Away--away--without a wing,
+ O'er all--through all--its thought shall fly,
+ A nameless and eternal thing,
+ Forgetting what it was to die.
+
+ Seaham, 1815.
+
+
+
+ VISION OF BELSHAZZAR.[299]
+
+ I.
+
+ The King was on his throne,
+ The Satraps thronged the hall:[lx]
+ A thousand bright lamps shone
+ O'er that high festival.
+ A thousand cups of gold,
+ In Judah deemed divine--[ly]
+ Jehovah's vessels hold
+ The godless Heathen's wine!
+
+ II.
+
+ In that same hour and hall,
+ The fingers of a hand
+ Came forth against the wall,
+ And wrote as if on sand:
+ The fingers of a man;--
+ A solitary hand
+ Along the letters ran,
+ And traced them like a wand.
+
+ III.
+
+ The monarch saw, and shook,
+ And bade no more rejoice;
+ All bloodless waxed his look,
+ And tremulous his voice.
+ "Let the men of lore appear,
+ The wisest of the earth,
+ And expound the words of fear,
+ Which mar our royal mirth."
+
+ IV.
+
+ Chaldea's seers are good,
+ But here they have no skill;
+ And the unknown letters stood
+ Untold and awful still.
+ And Babel's men of age
+ Are wise and deep in lore;
+ But now they were not sage,
+ They saw--but knew no more.
+
+ V.
+
+ A captive in the land,
+ A stranger and a youth,[300]
+ He heard the King's command,
+ He saw that writing's truth.
+ The lamps around were bright,
+ The prophecy in view;
+ He read it on that night,--
+ The morrow proved it true.
+
+ VI.
+
+ "Belshazzar's grave is made,[lz]
+ His kingdom passed away.
+ He, in the balance weighed,
+ Is light and worthless clay;
+ The shroud, his robe of state,
+ His canopy the stone;
+ The Mede is at his gate!
+ The Persian on his throne!"
+
+
+
+ SUN OF THE SLEEPLESS!
+
+ Sun of the sleepless! melancholy star!
+ Whose tearful beam glows tremulously far,
+ That show'st the darkness thou canst not dispel,
+ How like art thou to Joy remembered well!
+ So gleams the past, the light of other days,
+ Which shines, but warms not with its powerless rays:
+ A night-beam Sorrow watcheth to behold,
+ Distinct, but distant--clear--but, oh how cold!
+
+
+
+ WERE MY BOSOM AS FALSE AS THOU DEEM'ST IT TO BE.
+
+ I.
+
+ Were my bosom as false as thou deem'st it to be,
+ I need not have wandered from far Galilee;
+ It was but abjuring my creed to efface
+ The curse which, thou say'st, is the crime of my race.
+
+ II.
+
+ If the bad never triumph, then God is with thee!
+ If the slave only sin--thou art spotless and free!
+ If the Exile on earth is an Outcast on high,
+ Live on in thy faith--but in mine I will die.
+
+ III.
+
+ I have lost for that faith more than thou canst bestow,
+ As the God who permits thee to prosper doth know;
+ In his hand is my heart and my hope--and in thine
+ The land and the life which for him I resign.
+
+ Seaham, 1815.
+
+
+
+ HEROD'S LAMENT FOR MARIAMNE.[301]
+
+ I.
+
+ Oh, Mariamne! now for thee
+ The heart for which thou bled'st is bleeding;
+ Revenge is lost in Agony[ma]
+ And wild Remorse to rage succeeding.[mb]
+ Oh, Mariamne! where art thou?
+ Thou canst not hear my bitter pleading:[mc]
+ Ah! could'st thou--thou would'st pardon now,
+ Though Heaven were to my prayer unheeding.
+
+ II.
+
+ And is she dead?--and did they dare
+ Obey my Frenzy's jealous raving?[md]
+ My Wrath but doomed my own despair:
+ The sword that smote her 's o'er me waving.--
+ But thou art cold, my murdered Love!
+ And this dark heart is vainly craving[me]
+ For he who soars alone above,
+ And leaves my soul unworthy saving.
+
+ III.
+
+ She's gone, who shared my diadem;
+ She sunk, with her my joys entombing;
+ I swept that flower from Judah's stem,
+ Whose leaves for me alone were blooming;
+ And mine's the guilt, and mine the hell,
+ This bosom's desolation dooming;
+ And I have earned those tortures well,[mf]
+ Which unconsumed are still consuming!
+
+ _Jan._ 15, 1815.
+
+
+
+ ON THE DAY OF THE DESTRUCTION OF JERUSALEM BY TITUS.
+
+ I.
+
+ From the last hill that looks on thy once holy dome,[mg]
+ I beheld thee, oh Sion! when rendered to Rome:[mh]
+ 'Twas thy last sun went down, and the flames of thy fall
+ Flashed back on the last glance I gave to thy wall.
+
+ II.
+
+ I looked for thy temple--I looked for my home,
+ And forgot for a moment my bondage to come;[mi]
+ I beheld but the death-fire that fed on thy fane,
+ And the fast-fettered hands that made vengeance in vain.
+
+ III.
+
+ On many an eve, the high spot whence I gazed
+ Had reflected the last beam of day as it blazed;
+ While I stood on the height, and beheld the decline
+ Of the rays from the mountain that shone on thy shrine.
+
+ IV.
+
+ And now on that mountain I stood on that day,
+ But I marked not the twilight beam melting away;
+ Oh! would that the lightning had glared in its stead,
+ And the thunderbolt burst on the Conqueror's head![mj]
+
+ V.
+
+ But the Gods of the Pagan shall never profane
+ The shrine where Jehovah disdained not to reign;
+ And scattered and scorned as thy people may be,
+ Our worship, oh Father! is only for thee.
+
+ 1815.
+
+
+
+ BY THE RIVERS OF BABYLON WE SAT DOWN AND WEPT.[302]
+
+ I.
+
+ We sate down and wept by the waters[303]
+ Of Babel, and thought of the day
+ When our foe, in the hue of his slaughters,
+ Made Salem's high places his prey;
+ And Ye, oh her desolate daughters!
+ Were scattered all weeping away.
+
+ II.
+
+ While sadly we gazed on the river
+ Which rolled on in freedom below,
+ They demanded the song; but, oh never
+ That triumph the Stranger shall know![mk]
+ May this right hand be withered for ever,
+ Ere it string our high harp for the foe!
+
+ III.
+
+ On the willow that harp is suspended,
+ Oh Salem! its sound should be free;[ml]
+ And the hour when thy glories were ended
+ But left me that token of thee:
+ And ne'er shall its soft tones be blended
+ With the voice of the Spoiler by me!
+
+ _Jan._ 15, 1813.
+
+
+
+ "BY THE WATERS OF BABYLON."
+
+ I.
+
+ In the valley of waters we wept on the day
+ When the host of the Stranger made Salem his prey;
+ And our heads on our bosoms all droopingly lay,
+ And our hearts were so full of the land far away!
+
+ II.
+
+ The song they demanded in vain--it lay still
+ In our souls as the wind that hath died on the hill--
+ They called for the harp--but our blood they shall spill
+ Ere our right hands shall teach them one tone of their skill.
+
+ III.
+
+ All stringlessly hung in the willow's sad tree,
+ As dead as her dead-leaf, those mute harps must be:
+ Our hands may be fettered--our tears still are free
+ For our God--and our Glory--and Sion, Oh _Thee!_
+
+ 1815.
+
+
+
+ THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB.
+
+ I.
+
+ The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
+ And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;
+ And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
+ When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
+
+ II.
+
+ Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,
+ That host with their banners at sunset were seen:
+ Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,[304]
+ That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.
+
+ III.
+
+ For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
+ And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed;
+ And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,
+ And their hearts but once heaved--and for ever grew still!
+
+ IV.
+
+ And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,
+ But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride;
+ And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,[mm]
+ And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.[mn]
+
+ V.
+
+ And there lay the rider distorted and pale,
+ With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail:[mo]
+ And the tents were all silent--the banners alone--
+ The lances unlifted--the trumpet unblown.
+
+ VI.
+
+ And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,[mp]
+ And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal;
+ And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,[mq]
+ Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!
+
+ Seaham, Feb. 17, 1815.
+
+
+
+ A SPIRIT PASSED BEFORE ME.
+
+ FROM JOB.
+
+ I.
+
+ A spirit passed before me: I beheld
+ The face of Immortality unveiled--
+ Deep Sleep came down on every eye save mine--
+ And there it stood,--all formless--but divine:
+ Along my bones the creeping flesh did quake;
+ And as my damp hair stiffened, thus it spake:
+
+ II.
+
+ "Is man more just than God? Is man more pure
+ Than he who deems even Seraphs insecure?
+ Creatures of clay--vain dwellers in the dust!
+ The moth survives you, and are ye more just?
+ Things of a day! you wither ere the night,
+ Heedless and blind to Wisdom's wasted light!"
+
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[287] {381} [In a manuscript note to a letter of Byron's, dated June 11,
+1814, Wedderburn Webster writes, "I _did_ take him to Lady Sitwell's
+party.... He there for the first time saw his cousin, the beautiful Mrs.
+Wilmot [who had appeared in mourning with numerous spangles in her
+dress]. When we returned to ... the Albany, he ... desired Fletcher to
+give him a _tumbler of brandy_, which he drank at once to Mrs. Wilmot's
+health.... The next day he wrote some charming lines upon her, 'She
+walks in beauty,' etc."--_Letters_, 1899, iii. 92, note 1.
+
+Anne Beatrix, daughter and co-heiress of Eusebius Horton, of Catton
+Hall, Derbyshire, married Byron's second cousin, Robert John Wilmot
+(1784-1841), son of Sir Robert Wilmot of Osmaston, by Juliana, second
+daughter of the Hon. John Byron, and widow of the Hon. William Byron.
+She died February 4, 1871.
+
+Nathan (_Fugitive Pieces_, 1829, pp. 2, 3) has a note to the effect that
+Byron, while arranging the first edition of the _Melodies_, used to ask
+for this song, and would not unfrequently join in its execution.]
+
+[le] {382}
+ _The Harp the Minstrel Monarch swept,_
+ _The first of men, the loved of Heaven,_
+ _Which Music cherished while she wept_.--[MS. M.]
+
+[lf] {383} _It told the Triumph_----.--[MS. M.]
+
+[288] ["When Lord Byron put the copy into my hand, it terminated with
+this line. This, however, did not complete the verse, and I asked him to
+help out the melody. He replied, 'Why, I have sent you to Heaven--it
+would be difficult to go further!' My attention for a few moments was
+called to some other person, and his Lordship, whom I had hardly missed,
+exclaimed, 'Here, Nathan, I have brought you down again;' and
+immediately presented me the beautiful and sublime lines which conclude
+the melody."--_Fugitive Pieces_, 1829, p. 33.]
+
+[lg]
+ _It there abode, and there it rings_,
+ _But ne'er on earth its sound shall be;_
+ _The prophets' race hath passed away;_
+ _And all the hallowed minstrelsy_--
+ _From earth the sound and soul are fled_,
+ _And shall we never hear again?_--[MS. M. erased.]
+
+[289] [According to Nathan, the monosyllable "if" at the beginning of
+the first line led to "numerous attacks on the noble author's religion,
+and in some an inference of atheism was drawn."
+
+Needless to add, "in a subsequent conversation," Byron repels this
+charge, and delivers himself of some admirable if commonplace sentiments
+on the "grand perhaps."-_Fugitive Pieces_, 1829, pp. 5, 6.]
+
+[lh] {384} ----_breaking link_.--[Nathan, 1815, 1829.]
+
+[290] [Compare _To Ianthe_, stanza iv. lines 1, 2--
+
+ "Oh! let that eye, which, wild as the Gazelle's,
+ Now brightly bold or beautifully shy."
+
+Compare, too, _The Giaour_, lines 473, 474--
+
+ "Her eye's dark charm 'twere vain to tell,
+ But gaze on that of the Gazelle."
+ _Poetical Works_, 1899, ii. 13; _et ante_, p. 108.]
+
+[291] {387} [Nathan (_Fugitive Pieces_, 1829, pp. 11, 12) seems to have
+tried to draw Byron into a discussion on the actual fate of Jephtha's
+daughter--death at her father's hand, or "perpetual seclusion"--and that
+Byron had no opinion to offer. "Whatever may be the absolute state of
+the case, I am innocent of her blood; she has been killed to my hands;"
+and again, "Well, my hands are not imbrued in her blood!"]
+
+[292] {388} ["In submitting the melody to his Lordship's judgment, I
+once inquired in what manner they might refer to any scriptural subject:
+he appeared for a moment affected--at last replied, 'Every mind must
+make its own references; there is scarcely one of us who could not
+imagine that the affliction belongs to himself, to me it certainly
+belongs.' 'She is no more, and perhaps the only vestige of her existence
+is the feeling I sometimes fondly indulge.'"--_Fugitive Pieces_, 1829,
+p. 30. It has been surmised that the lines contain a final reminiscence
+of the mysterious Thyrza.]
+
+[li] ----_in gentle gloom._--[MS. M.]
+
+[lj]
+ _Shall Sorrow on the waters gaze_,
+ _And lost in deep remembrance dream_,
+ _As if her footsteps could disturb the dead._--[MS. M.]
+
+[lk] {389} _Even thou_----.--[MS. M.]
+
+[ll]
+IV.
+
+ _Nor need I write to tell the tale_,
+ _My pen were doubly weak;_
+ _Oh what can idle words avail_,
+ _Unless my heart could speak?_
+
+ V.
+
+ _By day or night, in weal or woe_,
+ _That heart no longer free_
+ _Must bear the love it cannot show_,
+ _And silent turn for thee_.--[MS. M.]
+
+[293] [Compare "Nay, now, pry'thee weep no more! you know, ... that 'tis
+sinful to murmur at ... Providence."--"And should not that reflection
+check your own, my Blanche?"--"Why are your cheeks so wet? Fie! fie, my
+child!"--_Romantic Tales_, by M. G. Lewis, 1808, i. 53.]
+
+[294] [Compare "My soul is dark."--Ossian, "Oina-Morul," _The Works of
+Ossian_, 1765, ii. 279.]
+
+[295] {390} ["It was generally conceived that Lord Byron's reported
+singularities approached on some occasions to derangement; and at one
+period, indeed, it was very currently asserted that his intellects were
+actually impaired. The report only served to amuse his Lordship. He
+referred to the circumstance, and declared that he would try how a
+_Madman_ could write: seizing the pen with eagerness, he for a moment
+fixed his eyes in majestic wildness on vacancy; when, like a flash of
+inspiration, without erasing a single word, the above verses were the
+result."--_Fugitive Pieces_, 1829, p. 37.]
+
+[296] [Compare the first _Sonnet to Genevra_ (addressed to Lady Frances
+Wedderburn Webster), "Thine eye's blue tenderness."]
+
+[lm] {392}
+ _He stands amidst an earthly cloud_,
+ _And the mist mantled o'er his floating shroud_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[ln] _At once and scorched beneath_----.--[MS. Copy (1, 2).]
+
+[lo] _Bloodless are these bones_----.--[MS.]
+
+[297] ["Since we have spoken of witches," said Lord Byron at Cephalonia,
+in 1823, "what think you of the witch of Endor? I have always thought
+this the finest and most finished witch-scene that ever was written or
+conceived; and you will be of my opinion, if you consider all the
+circumstances and the actors in the case, together with the gravity,
+simplicity, and dignity of the language."--_Conversations on Religion
+with Lord Byron_, by James Kennedy, M.D., London, 1830, p. 154.]
+
+[lp] {393} _Heed not the carcase that lies in your path_.--[MS. Copy
+(1).]
+
+[lq]
+ ----_my shield and my bow_,
+ _Should the ranks of your king look away from the foe_.--[MS.]
+
+[lr] {394}
+ _Heir to my monarchy_----.--[MS.]
+ Note to _Heir_--Jonathan.--[Copy.]
+
+[ls]
+ _My father was the shepherd's son_,
+ _Ah were my lot as lowly_
+ _My earthly course had softly run_.--[MS.]
+
+[298] {395} [Compare _Childe Harold_, Canto I. stanza lxxxii.
+lines 8, 9--
+
+ "Full from the fount of Joy's delicious springs
+ Some bitter o'er the flowers its bubbling venom flings."
+ _Poetical Works_, 1899, ii. 73, and note 16, p. 93.]
+
+[lt]
+ _Ah! what hath been but what shall be_,
+ _The same dull scene renewing?_
+ _And all our fathers were are we_
+ _In erring and undoing_.--[MS.]
+
+[lu] _When this corroding clay is gone_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[lv] _The stars in their eternal way_.--[MS. L. erased.]
+
+[lw] {396} _A conscious light that can pervade_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[299] {397} [Compare the lines entitled "Belshazzar" (_vide post_, p.
+421), and _Don Juan_, Canto III. stanza lxv.]
+
+[lx] ----_in the hall_.--[Copy.]
+
+[ly] _In Israel_----.--[Copy.]
+
+[300] {398} [It was not in his youth, but in extreme old age, that
+Daniel interpreted the "writing on the wall."]
+
+[lz] _Oh king thy grave_----.--[Copy erased.]
+
+[301] {400} [Mariamne, the wife of Herod the Great, falling under the
+suspicion of infidelity, was put to death by his order. Ever after,
+Herod was haunted by the image of the murdered Mariamne, until disorder
+of the mind brought on disorder of body, which led to temporary
+derangement. See _History of the Jews_, by H. H. Milman, 1878, pp. 236,
+237. See, too, Voltaire's drama, _Mariamne_, _passim_.
+
+Nathan, wishing "to be favoured with so many lines pathetic, some
+playful, others martial, etc.... one evening ... unfortunately (while
+absorbed for a moment in worldly affairs) requested so many _dull_
+lines--meaning _plaintive_." Byron instantly caught at the expression,
+and exclaimed, "Well, Nathan! you have at length set me an easy task,"
+and before parting presented him with "these beautifully pathetic lines,
+saying, 'Here, Nathan, I think you will find these _dull_
+enough.'"--_Fugitive Pieces_, 1829, p. 51.]
+
+[ma]
+ _And what was rage is agony_.--[MS. erased.]
+ _Revenge is turned_----.--[MS.]
+
+[mb] _And deep Remorse_----.--[MS.]
+
+[mc] _And what am I thy tyrant pleading_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[md]
+ _Thou art not dead--they could not dare_
+ _Obey my jealous Frenzy's raving_.--[MS.]
+
+[me] _But yet in death my soul enslaving_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[mf] {401} _Oh I have earned_----.--[MS.]
+
+[mg] ----_that looks o'er thy once holy dome_.--[MS.]
+
+[mh]
+ ----_o'er thy once holy wall_
+ _I beheld thee O Sion the day of thy fall_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[mi] _And forgot in their ruin_----.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[mj] {402}
+ _And the red bolt_----.--[MS. erased.]
+ _And the thunderbolt crashed_----.--[MS.]
+
+[302] [The following note, in Byron's handwriting, is prefixed to the
+copy in Lady Byron's handwriting:--
+
+ "Dear Kinnaird,--Take only _one_ of these marked 1 and 2 [i.e. 'By
+ the Rivers,' etc.; and 'By the waters,' _vide_ p. 404], as both are
+ but different versions of the _same thought_--leave the choice to
+ any important person you like.
+ Yours,
+ B."]
+
+[303] [Landor, in his "Dialogue between Southey and Porson" (_Works_,
+1846, i. 69), attempted to throw ridicule on the opening lines of this
+"Melody."
+
+ "A prey in 'the hue of his slaughters'! This is very pathetic; but
+ not more so than the thought it suggested to me, which is plainer--
+
+ 'We sat down and wept by the waters
+ Of Camus, and thought of the day
+ When damsels would show their red garters
+ In their hurry to scamper away.'"]
+
+[mk] {403}
+ _Our mute harps were hung on the willow_
+ _That grew by the stream of our foe_,
+ _And in sadness we gazed on each billow_
+ _That rolled on in freedom below_.--[MS, erased.]
+
+[ml]
+ _On the willow that harp still hangs mutely_
+ _Oh Salem its sound was for thee_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[304] {405} [Compare--"As leaves in autumn, so the bodies fell." _The
+Barons' Wars_, by Michael Drayton, Bk. II. stanza lvii.; Anderson's
+_British Poets_, iii. 38.]
+
+[mm] _And the foam of his bridle lay cold on the earth_.--[MS.]
+
+[mn] ----_of the cliff-beating surf_.--[MS.]
+
+[mo] _With the crow on his breast_----.--[MS.]
+
+[mp] _And the widows of Babel_----.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[mq] _And the voices of Israel are joyous and high_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+
+
+
+ POEMS 1814-1816.
+
+
+
+
+ POEMS 1814-1816.
+
+
+
+ FAREWELL! IF EVER FONDEST PRAYER.
+
+ 1.
+
+ Farewell! if ever fondest prayer
+ For other's weal availed on high,
+ Mine will not all be lost in air,
+ But waft thy name beyond the sky.
+ 'Twere vain to speak--to weep--to sigh:
+ Oh! more than tears of blood can tell,
+ When wrung from Guilt's expiring eye,[305]
+ Are in that word--Farewell!--Farewell!
+
+ 2.
+
+ These lips are mute, these eyes are dry;
+ But in my breast and in my brain,
+ Awake the pangs that pass not by,
+ The thought that ne'er shall sleep again.
+ My soul nor deigns nor dares complain,
+ Though Grief and Passion there rebel:
+ I only know we loved in vain--
+ I only feel--Farewell!--Farewell!
+
+ [First published, _Corsair_, Second Edition, 1814.]
+
+
+
+ WHEN WE TWO PARTED.
+
+ 1.
+
+ When we two parted
+ In silence and tears,
+ Half broken-hearted
+ To sever for years,
+ Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
+ Colder thy kiss;
+ Truly that hour foretold[mr]
+ Sorrow to this.
+
+ 2.
+
+ The dew of the morning[ms]
+ Sunk chill on my brow--
+ It felt like the warning
+ Of what I feel now.
+ Thy vows are all broken,[mt]
+ And light is thy fame:
+ I hear thy name spoken,
+ And share in its shame.
+
+ 3.[mu]
+
+ They name thee before me,
+ A knell to mine ear;
+ A shudder comes o'er me--
+ Why wert thou so dear?
+ They know not I knew thee,
+ Who knew thee too well:--
+ Long, long shall I rue thee,
+ Too deeply to tell.
+
+ 4.
+
+ In secret we met--
+ In silence I grieve.
+ That thy heart could forget,
+ Thy spirit deceive.
+ If I should meet thee[mv]
+ After long years,
+ How should I greet thee?--
+ With silence and tears.
+
+ [First published, _Poems_, 1816.]
+
+
+
+ [LOVE AND GOLD.[306]]
+
+ 1.
+
+ I cannot talk of Love to thee,
+ Though thou art young and free and fair!
+ There is a spell thou dost not see,
+ That bids a genuine love despair.
+
+ 2.
+
+ And yet that spell invites each youth,
+ For thee to sigh, or seem to sigh;
+ Makes falsehood wear the garb of truth,
+ And Truth itself appear a lie.
+
+ 3.
+
+ If ever Doubt a place possest
+ In woman's heart, 'twere wise in thine:
+ Admit not Love into thy breast,
+ Doubt others' love, nor trust in mine.
+
+ 4.
+
+ Perchance 'tis feigned, perchance sincere,
+ But false or true thou canst not tell;
+ So much hast thou from all to fear,
+ In that unconquerable spell.
+
+ 5.
+
+ Of all the herd that throng around,
+ Thy simpering or thy sighing train,
+ Come tell me who to thee is bound
+ By Love's or Plutus' heavier chain.
+
+ 6.
+
+ In some 'tis Nature, some 'tis Art
+ That bids them worship at thy shrine;
+ But thou deserv'st a better heart,
+ Than they or I can give for thine.
+
+ 7.
+
+ For thee, and such as thee, behold,
+ Is Fortune painted truly--blind!
+ Who doomed thee to be bought or sold,
+ Has proved too bounteous to be kind.
+
+ 8.
+
+ Each day some tempter's crafty suit
+ Would woo thee to a loveless bed:
+ I see thee to the altar's foot
+ A decorated victim led.
+
+ 9.
+
+ Adieu, dear maid! I must not speak
+ Whate'er my secret thoughts may be;
+ Though thou art all that man can reck
+ I dare not talk of Love to _thee_.
+
+
+
+ STANZAS FOR MUSIC.[307]
+
+ 1.
+
+ I speak not, I trace not, I breathe not thy name,[mw]
+ There is grief in the sound, there is guilt in the fame:
+ But the tear which now burns on my cheek may impart
+ The deep thoughts that dwell in that silence of heart.
+
+ 2.[mx]
+
+ Too brief for our passion, too long for our peace,
+ Were those hours--can their joy or their bitterness cease?
+ We repent, we abjure, we will break from our chain,--
+ We will part, we will fly to--unite it again!
+
+ 3.
+
+ Oh! thine be the gladness, and mine be the guilt![my]
+ Forgive me, adored one!--forsake, if thou wilt;--
+ But the heart which is thine shall expire undebased[mz]
+ And _man_ shall not break it--whatever _thou_ mayst.[na]
+
+ 4.
+
+ And stern to the haughty, but humble to thee,
+ This soul, in its bitterest blackness, shall be:[nb]
+ And our days seem as swift, and our moments more sweet,
+ With thee by my side, than with worlds at our feet.
+
+ 5.[nc]
+
+ One sigh of thy sorrow, one look of thy love,[nd]
+ Shall turn me or fix, shall reward or reprove;
+ And the heartless may wonder at all I resign--
+ Thy lip shall reply, not to them, but to _mine_.
+
+ _May_ 4, 1814.
+ [First published, _Letters and Journals_, 1830, i. 554.]
+
+
+
+ ADDRESS INTENDED TO BE RECITED AT
+ THE CALEDONIAN MEETING.[308]
+
+ Who hath not glowed above the page where Fame
+ Hath fixed high Caledon's unconquered name;
+ The mountain-land which spurned the Roman chain,
+ And baffled back the fiery-crested Dane,
+ Whose bright claymore and hardihood of hand
+ No foe could tame--no tyrant could command?
+ That race is gone--but still their children breathe,
+ And Glory crowns them with redoubled wreath:
+ O'er Gael and Saxon mingling banners shine,
+ And, England! add their stubborn strength to thine.
+ The blood which flowed with Wallace flows as free,
+ But now 'tis only shed for Fame and thee!
+ Oh! pass not by the northern veteran's claim,
+ But give support--the world hath given him fame!
+
+ The humbler ranks, the lowly brave, who bled
+ While cheerly following where the Mighty led--[309]
+ Who sleep beneath the undistinguished sod
+ Where happier comrades in their triumph trod,
+ To us bequeath--'tis all their fate allows--
+ The sireless offspring and the lonely spouse:
+ She on high Albyn's dusky hills may raise
+ The tearful eye in melancholy gaze,
+ Or view, while shadowy auguries disclose
+ The Highland Seer's anticipated woes,
+ The bleeding phantom of each martial form
+ Dim in the cloud, or darkling in the storm;[310]
+ While sad, she chaunts the solitary song,
+ The soft lament for him who tarries long--
+ For him, whose distant relics vainly crave
+ The Coronach's wild requiem to the brave!
+
+ 'Tis Heaven--not man--must charm away the woe,
+ Which bursts when Nature's feelings newly flow;
+ Yet Tenderness and Time may rob the tear
+ Of half its bitterness for one so dear;
+ A Nation's gratitude perchance may spread
+ A thornless pillow for the widowed head;
+ May lighten well her heart's maternal care,
+ And wean from Penury the soldier's heir;
+ Or deem to living war-worn Valour just[311]
+ Each wounded remnant--Albion's cherished trust--
+ Warm his decline with those endearing rays,
+ Whose bounteous sunshine yet may gild his days--
+ So shall that Country--while he sinks to rest--
+ His hand hath fought for--by his heart be blest!
+
+ _May_, 1814.
+ [First published, _Letters and Journals_, 1830, i. 559.]
+
+
+
+ ELEGIAC STANZAS ON THE DEATH OF
+ SIR PETER PARKER, BART.[312]
+
+ 1.
+
+ There is a tear for all that die,[313]
+ A mourner o'er the humblest grave;
+ But nations swell the funeral cry,
+ And Triumph weeps above the brave.
+
+ 2.
+
+ For them is Sorrow's purest sigh
+ O'er Ocean's heaving bosom sent:
+ In vain their bones unburied lie,
+ All earth becomes their monument!
+
+ 3.
+
+ A tomb is theirs on every page,
+ An epitaph on every tongue:
+ The present hours, the future age,
+ For them bewail, to them belong.
+
+ 4.
+
+ For them the voice of festal mirth
+ Grows hushed, _their name_ the only sound;
+ While deep Remembrance pours to Worth
+ The goblet's tributary round.
+
+ 5.
+
+ A theme to crowds that knew them not,
+ Lamented by admiring foes,
+ Who would not share their glorious lot?
+ Who would not die the death they chose?
+
+ 6.
+
+ And, gallant Parker! thus enshrined
+ Thy life, thy fall, thy fame shall be;
+ And early valour, glowing, find
+ A model in thy memory.
+
+ 7.
+
+ But there are breasts that bleed with thee
+ In woe, that glory cannot quell;
+ And shuddering hear of victory,
+ Where one so dear, so dauntless, fell.
+
+ 8.
+
+ Where shall they turn to mourn thee less?
+ When cease to hear thy cherished name?
+ Time cannot teach forgetfulness,
+ While Grief's full heart is fed by Fame.
+
+ 9.
+
+ Alas! for them, though not for thee,
+ They cannot choose but weep the more;
+ Deep for the dead the grief must be,
+ Who ne'er gave cause to mourn before.
+
+ _October_ 7, 1814.
+ [First published, _Morning Chronicle_, October 7, 1814.]
+
+
+
+ JULIAN [A FRAGMENT].[314]
+
+ 1.
+
+ The Night came on the Waters--all was rest
+ On Earth--but Rage on Ocean's troubled Heart.
+ The Waves arose and rolled beneath the blast;
+ The Sailors gazed upon their shivered Mast.
+ In that dark Hour a long loud gathered cry
+ From out the billows pierced the sable sky,
+ And borne o'er breakers reached the craggy shore--
+ The Sea roars on--that Cry is heard no more.
+
+ 2.
+
+ There is no vestige, in the Dawning light,
+ Of those that shrieked thro' shadows of the Night.
+ The Bark--the Crew--the very Wreck is gone,
+ Marred--mutilated--traceless--all save one.
+ In him there still is Life, the Wave that dashed
+ On shore the plank to which his form was lashed,
+ Returned unheeding of its helpless Prey--
+ The lone survivor of that Yesterday--
+ The one of Many whom the withering Gale
+ Hath left unpunished to record their Tale.
+ But who shall hear it? on that barren Sand
+ None comes to stretch the hospitable hand.
+ That shore reveals no print of human foot,
+ Nor e'en the pawing of the wilder Brute;
+ And niggard vegetation will not smile,
+ All sunless on that solitary Isle.
+
+ 3.
+
+ The naked Stranger rose, and wrung his hair,
+ And that first moment passed in silent prayer.
+ Alas! the sound--he sunk into Despair--
+ He was on Earth--but what was Earth to him,
+ Houseless and homeless--bare both breast and limb?
+ Cut off from all but Memory he curst
+ His fate--his folly--but himself the worst.
+ What was his hope? he looked upon the Wave--
+ Despite--of all--it still may be his Grave!
+
+ 4.
+
+ He rose and with a feeble effort shaped
+ His course unto the billows--late escaped:
+ But weakness conquered--swam his dizzy glance,
+ And down to Earth he sunk in silent trance.
+ How long his senses bore its chilling chain,
+ He knew not--but, recalled to Life again,
+ A stranger stood beside his shivering form--
+ And what was he? had he too scaped the storm?
+
+ 5.
+
+ He raised young Julian. "Is thy Cup so full
+ Of bitterness--thy Hope--thy heart so dull
+ That thou shouldst from Thee dash the Draught of Life,
+ So late escaped the elemental strife!
+ Rise--tho' these shores few aids to Life supply,
+ Look upon me, and know thou shalt not die.
+ Thou gazest in mute wonder--more may be
+ Thy marvel when thou knowest mine and me.
+ But come--The bark that bears us hence shall find
+ Her Haven, soon, despite the warning Wind."
+
+ 6.
+
+ He raised young Julian from the sand, and such
+ Strange power of healing dwelt within the touch,
+ That his weak limbs grew light with freshened Power,
+ As he had slept not fainted in that hour,
+ And woke from Slumber--as the Birds awake,
+ Recalled at morning from the branchéd brake,
+ When the day's promise heralds early Spring,
+ And Heaven unfolded woos their soaring wing:
+ So Julian felt, and gazed upon his Guide,
+ With honest Wonder what might next betide.
+
+ Dec. 12, 1814.
+
+
+
+ TO BELSHAZZAR.
+
+ 1.[ne]
+
+ Belshazzar! from the banquet turn,
+ Nor in thy sensual fulness fall;
+ Behold! while yet before thee burn
+ The graven words, the glowing wall,[nf]
+ Many a despot men miscall
+ Crowned and anointed from on high;
+ But thou, the weakest, worst of all--
+ Is it not written, thou must die?[ng]
+
+ 2.
+
+ Go! dash the roses from thy brow--
+ Grey hairs but poorly wreathe with them;
+ Youth's garlands misbecome thee now,
+ More than thy very diadem,[nh]
+ Where thou hast tarnished every gem:--
+ Then throw the worthless bauble by,
+ Which, worn by thee, ev'n slaves contemn;
+ And learn like better men to die!
+
+ 3.
+
+ Oh! early in the balance weighed,
+ And ever light of word and worth,
+ Whose soul expired ere youth decayed,
+ And left thee but a mass of earth.
+ To see thee moves the scorner's mirth:
+ But tears in Hope's averted eye
+ Lament that even thou hadst birth--
+ Unfit to govern, live, or die.
+
+ _February_ 12, 1815.
+ [First published, 1831.]
+
+
+
+ STANZAS FOR MUSIC.[315]
+
+ "O Lachrymarum fons, tenero sacros
+ Ducentium ortus ex animo: quater
+ Felix! in imo qui scatentem
+ Pectore te, pia Nympha, sensit."
+ Gray's _Poemata_.
+ [Motto to "The Tear," _Poetical Works_, 1898, i. 49.]
+
+ 1.
+
+ There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away,
+ When the glow of early thought declines in Feeling's dull decay;
+ 'Tis not on Youth's smooth cheek the blush alone, which fades
+ so fast,[ni]
+ But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere Youth itself be past.
+
+ 2.
+
+ Then the few whose spirits float above the wreck of happiness
+ Are driven o'er the shoals of guilt or ocean of excess:
+ The magnet of their course is gone, or only points in vain
+ The shore to which their shivered sail shall never stretch again.
+
+ 3.
+
+ Then the mortal coldness of the soul like Death itself comes down;
+ It cannot feel for others' woes, it dare not dream its own;
+ That heavy chill has frozen o'er the fountain of our tears,
+ And though the eye may sparkle still, 'tis where the ice appears.
+
+ 4.
+
+ Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth distract the breast,
+ Through midnight hours that yield no more their former hope of rest;
+ 'Tis but as ivy-leaves around the ruined turret wreath[nj][316]
+ All green and wildly fresh without, but worn and grey beneath.
+
+ 5.
+
+ Oh, could I feel as I have felt,--or be what I have been,
+ Or weep as I could once have wept, o'er many a vanished scene;
+ As springs in deserts found seem sweet, all brackish though they be,
+ So, midst the withered waste of life, those tears would flow to me.
+
+ _March, 1815._
+ [First published, _Poems, 1816._]
+
+
+
+ ON THE DEATH OF THE DUKE OF DORSET.[317]
+
+ 1.
+
+ I heard thy fate without a tear,
+ Thy loss with scarce a sigh;
+ And yet thou wast surpassing dear,
+ Too loved of all to die.
+ I know not what hath seared my eye--
+ Its tears refuse to start;
+ But every drop, it bids me dry,
+ Falls dreary on my heart.
+
+ 2.
+
+ Yes, dull and heavy, one by one,
+ They sink and turn to care,
+ As caverned waters wear the stone,
+ Yet dropping harden there:
+ They cannot petrify more fast,
+ Than feelings sunk remain,
+ Which coldly fixed regard the past,
+ But never melt again.
+
+ [1815.]
+
+
+
+ STANZAS FOR MUSIC.
+
+ 1.
+
+ Bright be the place of thy soul!
+ No lovelier spirit than thine
+ E'er burst from its mortal control,
+ In the orbs of the blessed to shine.
+ On earth thou wert all but divine,
+ As thy soul shall immortally be;[nk]
+ And our sorrow may cease to repine
+ When we know that thy God is with thee.
+
+ 2.
+
+ Light be the turf of thy tomb![nl][318]
+ May its verdure like emeralds be![nm]
+ There should not be the shadow of gloom
+ In aught that reminds us of thee.
+ Young flowers and an evergreen tree[nn]
+ May spring from the spot of thy rest:
+ But nor cypress nor yew let us see;
+ For why should we mourn for the blest?
+
+ [First published, _Examiner_, June 4, 1815.]
+
+
+
+ NAPOLEON'S FAREWELL.[319]
+
+ [FROM THE FRENCH.]
+
+ 1.
+
+ Farewell to the Land, where the gloom of my Glory
+ Arose and o'ershadowed the earth with her name--
+ She abandons me now--but the page of her story,
+ The brightest or blackest, is filled with my fame.[no]
+ I have warred with a World which vanquished me only
+ When the meteor of conquest allured me too far;
+ I have coped with the nations which dread me thus lonely,
+ The last single Captive to millions in war.
+
+ 2.
+
+ Farewell to thee, France! when thy diadem crowned me,
+ I made thee the gem and the wonder of earth,--
+ But thy weakness decrees I should leave as I found thee,[np]
+ Decayed in thy glory, and sunk in thy worth.
+ Oh! for the veteran hearts that were wasted
+ In strife with the storm, when their battles were won--
+ Then the Eagle, whose gaze in that moment was blasted
+ Had still soared with eyes fixed on Victory's sun![nq]
+
+ 3.
+
+ Farewell to thee, France!--but when Liberty rallies
+ Once more in thy regions, remember me then,--
+ The Violet still grows in the depth of thy valleys;
+ Though withered, thy tear will unfold it again--
+ Yet, yet, I may baffle the hosts that surround us,
+ And yet may thy heart leap awake to my voice--
+ There are links which must break in the chain that has bound us,
+ _Then_ turn thee and call on the Chief of thy choice!
+
+ _July_ 25, 1815. London.
+ [First published, _Examiner_, July 30, 1815.]
+
+
+
+ FROM THE FRENCH.[320]
+
+ I.
+
+ Must thou go, my glorious Chief,
+ Severed from thy faithful few?
+ Who can tell thy warrior's grief,
+ Maddening o'er that long adieu?[nr]
+ Woman's love, and Friendship's zeal,
+ Dear as both have been to me--[ns]
+ What are they to all I feel,
+ With a soldier's faith for thee?[nt]
+
+ II.
+
+ Idol of the soldier's soul!
+ First in fight, but mightiest now;[nu]
+ Many could a world control;
+ Thee alone no doom can bow.
+ By thy side for years I dared
+ Death; and envied those who fell,
+ When their dying shout was heard,
+ Blessing him they served so well.[321]
+
+ III.
+
+ Would that I were cold with those,
+ Since this hour I live to see;
+ When the doubts of coward foes[nv]
+ Scarce dare trust a man with thee,
+ Dreading each should set thee free!
+ Oh! although in dungeons pent,
+ All their chains were light to me,
+ Gazing on thy soul unbent.
+
+ IV.
+
+ Would the sycophants of him
+ Now so deaf to duty's prayer,[nw]
+ Were his borrowed glories dim,
+ In his native darkness share?
+ Were that world this hour his own,
+ All thou calmly dost resign,
+ Could he purchase with that throne
+ Hearts like those which still are thine?[nx]
+
+ V.
+
+ My Chief, my King, my Friend, adieu!
+ Never did I droop before;
+ Never to my Sovereign sue,
+ As his foes I now implore:
+ All I ask is to divide
+ Every peril he must brave;
+ Sharing by the hero's side
+ His fall--his exile--and his grave.[ny]
+
+ [First published, _Poems_, 1816,]
+
+
+
+ ODE FROM THE FRENCH.[322]
+
+ I.
+
+ We do not curse thee, Waterloo!
+ Though Freedom's blood thy plain bedew;
+ There 'twas shed, but is not sunk--
+ Rising from each gory trunk,
+ Like the water-spout from ocean,
+ With a strong and growing motion--
+ It soars, and mingles in the air,
+ With that of lost La Bédoyère--[323]
+ With that of him whose honoured grave
+ Contains the "bravest of the brave."
+ A crimson cloud it spreads and glows,
+ But shall return to whence it rose;
+ When 'tis full 'twill burst asunder--
+ Never yet was heard such thunder
+ As then shall shake the world with wonder--
+ Never yet was seen such lightning
+ As o'er heaven shall then be bright'ning!
+ Like the Wormwood Star foretold
+ By the sainted Seer of old,
+ Show'ring down a fiery flood,
+ Turning rivers into blood.[324]
+
+ II.
+
+ The Chief has fallen, but not by you,
+ Vanquishers of Waterloo!
+ When the soldier citizen
+ Swayed not o'er his fellow-men--
+ Save in deeds that led them on
+ Where Glory smiled on Freedom's son--
+ Who, of all the despots banded,
+ With that youthful chief competed?
+ Who could boast o'er France defeated,
+ Till lone Tyranny commanded?
+ Till, goaded by Ambition's sting,
+ The Hero sunk into the King?
+ Then he fell:--so perish all,
+ Who would men by man enthral!
+
+ III.
+
+ And thou, too, of the snow-white plume!
+ Whose realm refused thee ev'n a tomb;[325]
+ Better hadst thou still been leading
+ France o'er hosts of hirelings bleeding,
+ Than sold thyself to death and shame
+ For a meanly royal name;
+ Such as he of Naples wears,
+ Who thy blood-bought title bears.
+ Little didst thou deem, when dashing
+ On thy war-horse through the ranks.
+ Like a stream which burst its banks,
+ While helmets cleft, and sabres clashing,
+ Shone and shivered fast around thee--
+ Of the fate at last which found thee:
+ Was that haughty plume laid low
+ By a slave's dishonest blow?
+ Once--as the Moon sways o'er the tide,
+ It rolled in air, the warrior's guide;
+ Through the smoke-created night
+ Of the black and sulphurous fight,
+ The soldier raised his seeking eye
+ To catch that crest's ascendancy,--
+ And, as it onward rolling rose,
+ So moved his heart upon our foes.
+ There, where death's brief pang was quickest,
+ And the battle's wreck lay thickest,
+ Strewed beneath the advancing banner
+ Of the eagle's burning crest--
+ (There with thunder-clouds to fan her,
+ _Who_ could then her wing arrest--
+ Victory beaming from her breast?)
+ While the broken line enlarging
+ Fell, or fled along the plain;
+ There be sure was Murat charging!
+ There he ne'er shall charge again!
+
+ IV.
+
+ O'er glories gone the invaders march,
+ Weeps Triumph o'er each levelled arch--
+ But let Freedom rejoice,
+ With her heart in her voice;
+ But, her hand on her sword,
+ Doubly shall she be adored;
+ France hath twice too well been taught
+ The "moral lesson"[326] dearly bought--
+ Her safety sits not on a throne,
+ With Capet or Napoleon!
+ But in equal rights and laws,
+ Hearts and hands in one great cause--
+ Freedom, such as God hath given
+ Unto all beneath his heaven,
+ With their breath, and from their birth,
+ Though guilt would sweep it from the earth;
+ With a fierce and lavish hand
+ Scattering nations' wealth like sand;
+ Pouring nations' blood like water,
+ In imperial seas of slaughter!
+
+ V.
+
+ But the heart and the mind,
+ And the voice of mankind,
+ Shall arise in communion--
+ And who shall resist that proud union?
+ The time is past when swords subdued--
+ Man may die--the soul's renewed:
+ Even in this low world of care
+ Freedom ne'er shall want an heir;
+ Millions breathe but to inherit
+ Her for ever bounding spirit--
+ When once more her hosts assemble,
+ Tyrants shall believe and tremble--
+ Smile they at this idle threat?
+ Crimson tears will follow yet.[327]
+
+ [First published, _Morning Chronicle_, March 15, 1816.]
+
+
+
+ STANZAS FOR MUSIC.
+
+ 1.
+
+ There be none of Beauty's daughters
+ With a magic like thee;
+ And like music on the waters
+ Is thy sweet voice to me:
+ When, as if its sound were causing
+ The charméd Ocean's pausing,
+ The waves lie still and gleaming,
+ And the lulled winds seem dreaming:
+
+ 2.
+
+ And the midnight Moon is weaving
+ Her bright chain o'er the deep;
+ Whose breast is gently heaving,
+ As an infant's asleep:
+ So the spirit bows before thee,
+ To listen and adore thee;
+ With a full but soft emotion,
+ Like the swell of Summer's ocean.
+
+ _March_ 28 [1816].
+ [First published, _Poems_, 1816.]
+
+
+
+ ON THE STAR OF "THE LEGION OF HONOUR."[328]
+
+ [FROM THE FRENCH.]
+
+ 1.
+
+ Star of the brave!--whose beam hath shed
+ Such glory o'er the quick and dead--
+ Thou radiant and adored deceit!
+ Which millions rushed in arms to greet,--
+ Wild meteor of immortal birth!
+ Why rise in Heaven to set on Earth?
+
+ 2.
+
+ Souls of slain heroes formed thy rays;
+ Eternity flashed through thy blaze;
+ The music of thy martial sphere
+ Was fame on high and honour here;
+ And thy light broke on human eyes,
+ Like a Volcano of the skies.
+
+ 3.
+
+ Like lava rolled thy stream of blood,
+ And swept down empires with its flood;
+ Earth rocked beneath thee to her base,
+ As thou didst lighten through all space;
+ And the shorn Sun grew dim in air,
+ And set while thou wert dwelling there.
+
+ 4.
+
+ Before thee rose, and with thee grew,
+ A rainbow of the loveliest hue
+ Of three bright colours,[329] each divine,
+ And fit for that celestial sign;
+ For Freedom's hand had blended them,
+ Like tints in an immortal gem.
+
+ 5.
+
+ One tint was of the sunbeam's dyes;
+ One, the blue depth of Seraph's eyes;
+ One, the pure Spirit's veil of white
+ Had robed in radiance of its light:
+ The three so mingled did beseem
+ The texture of a heavenly dream.
+
+ 6.
+
+ Star of the brave! thy ray is pale,
+ And darkness must again prevail!
+ But, oh thou Rainbow of the free!
+ Our tears and blood must flow for thee.
+ When thy bright promise fades away,
+ Our life is but a load of clay.
+
+ 7.
+
+ And Freedom hallows with her tread
+ The silent cities of the dead;
+ For beautiful in death are they
+ Who proudly fall in her array;
+ And soon, oh, Goddess! may we be
+ For evermore with them or thee!
+
+ [First published, _Examiner_, April 7, 1816.]
+
+
+
+ STANZAS FOR MUSIC.
+
+ I.
+
+ They say that Hope is happiness;
+ But genuine Love must prize the past,
+ And Memory wakes the thoughts that bless:
+ They rose the first--they set the last;
+
+ II.
+
+ And all that Memory loves the most
+ Was once our only Hope to be,
+ And all that Hope adored and lost
+ Hath melted into Memory.
+
+ III.
+
+ Alas! it is delusion all:
+ The future cheats us from afar,
+ Nor can we be what we recall,
+ Nor dare we think on what we are.
+
+ [First published, _Fugitive Pieces_, 1829.]
+
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[305] {409} [Compare _The Corsair_, Canto I. stanza xv. lines 480-490.]
+
+[mr] {410}
+ _Never may I behold_
+ _Moment like this_.--[MS.]
+
+[ms]
+ _The damp of the morning_
+ _Clung chill on my brow_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[mt] _Thy vow hath been broken_.--[MS.]
+
+[mu]
+ ----_lies hidden_
+ _Our secret of sorrow_--
+ _And deep in my soul_--
+ _But deed more forbidden_,
+ _Our secret lies hidden_,
+ _But never forgot_.--[Erasures, stanza 3, MS.]
+
+[mv] {411}
+ _If one_ should _meet thee_
+ _How should we greet thee?_
+ _In silence and tears_.--[MS.]
+
+[306] [From an autograph MS. in the possession of Mr. Murray, now for
+the first time printed.
+
+The water-mark of the paper on which a much-tortured rough copy of these
+lines has been scrawled, is 1809, but, with this exception, there is no
+hint as to the date of composition. An entry in the _Diary_ for November
+30, 1813, in which Annabella (Miss Milbanke) is described "as an
+heiress, a girl of twenty, a peeress that is to be," etc., and a letter
+(Byron to Miss Milbanke) dated November 29, 1813 (see _Letters_, 1898,
+ii. 357, and 1899, iii. 407), in which there is more than one allusion
+to her would-be suitors, "your thousand and one pretendants," etc.,
+suggest the idea that the lines were addressed to his future wife, when
+he first made her acquaintance in 1812 or 1813.]
+
+[307] {413} ["Thou hast asked me for a song, and I enclose you an
+experiment, which has cost me something more than trouble, and is,
+therefore, less likely to be worth your taking any in your proposed
+setting. Now, if it be so, throw it into the fire without
+_phrase_."--Letter to Moore, May 4, 1814, _Letters_, 1899, iii. 80.]
+
+[mw] _I speak not--I breathe not--I write not that name_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[mx] {414}
+ _We have loved--and oh, still, my adored one we love!_
+ _Oh the moment is past, when that Passion might cease._--
+ [MS. erased.]
+
+[my] _The thought may be madness--the wish may be--guilt_.--[MS.
+erased.]
+
+[mz]
+ {_But I cannot repent what we ne'er can recall._
+ {_But the heart which is thine would disdain to recall_.--
+ [MS. erased.]
+
+[na] ----_though I feel that thou mayst_.--[MS. L. erased.]
+
+[nb]
+ _This soul in its bitterest moments shall be_,
+ _And our days run as swift--and our moments more sweet_,
+ _With thee at my side, than the world at my feet_.--[MS.]
+
+[nc] {415}
+ _And thine is that love which I will never forego_
+ _Though the price which I pay be Eternity's woe_.--[MS. erased]
+
+[nd] _One tear of thy sorrow, one smile_----.--[MS. erased]
+
+[308] [The "Caledonian Meeting," at which these lines were, or were
+intended to be, recited (see _Life_, p. 254), was a meeting of
+subscribers to the Highland Society, held annually in London, in support
+of the [Royal] _Caledonian Asylum_ "for educating and supporting
+children of soldiers, sailors, and marines, natives of Scotland." "To
+soothe," says the compiler of the _Report_ for 1814, p. 4, "by the
+assurance that their offspring will be reared in virtue and comfort, the
+minds of those brave men, through whose exposure to hardship and danger
+the independence of the Empire has been preserved, is no less an act of
+sound policy than of gratitude."]
+
+[309] {416} [As an instance of Scottish gallantry in the Peninsular War
+it is sufficient to cite the following list of "casualties" at the
+battle of Vittoria, June 21, 1813: "The battalion [the seventy-first
+Highland Light Infantry] suffered very severely, having had 1 field
+officer, 1 captain, 2 lieutenants, 6 sergeants, 1 bugler, and 78 rank
+and file killed; 1 field officer, 3 captains, 7 lieutenants, 13
+sergeants, 2 buglers, and 255 rank and file were wounded."--_Historical
+Record of the 71st Highland Light Infantry_, by Lieut. Henry J. T.
+Hildyard, 1876, p. 91.]
+
+[310] [Compare _Temora_, bk. vii., "The king took his deathful spear,
+and struck the deeply-sounding shield.... Ghosts fled on every side, and
+rolled their gathered forms on the wind.--Thrice from the winding vale
+arose the voices of death."--_Works of Ossian_, 1765, ii. 160.]
+
+[311] {417} [The last six lines are printed from the MS.]
+
+[312] [Sir P. Parker fell in August, 1814, in his twenty-ninth year,
+whilst leading a party from his ship, the _Menelaus_, at the storming of
+the American camp near Baltimore. He was Byron's first cousin (his
+father, Christopher Parker (1761-1804), married Charlotte Augusta,
+daughter of Admiral the Hon. John Byron); but they had never met since
+boyhood. (See letter to Moore, _Letters_, 1899, iii. 150; see too
+_Letters_, i. 6, note 1.) The stanzas were included in _Hebrew
+Melodies_, 1815, and in the Ninth Edition of _Childe Harold_, 1818.]
+
+[313] [Compare Tasso's sonnet--"Questa Tomba non è, ehe non è morto,"
+etc. _Rime Eroiche_, Parte Seconda, No. 38, _Opere di Torquato Tasso_,
+Venice, 1736, vi. 169.]
+
+[314] {419} [From an autograph MS. in the possession of Mr. Murray, now
+for the first time printed.]
+
+[ne] {421}
+ 1.
+
+ _The red light glows, the wassail flows_,
+ _Around the royal hall;_
+ _And who, on earth, dare mar the mirth_
+ _Of that high festival?_
+ _The prophet dares--before thee glows_--
+ _Belshazzar rise, nor dare despise_
+ _The writing on the wall!_
+
+ 2.
+
+ _Thy vice might raise th' avenging steel_,
+ _Thy meanness shield thee from the blow_--
+ _And they who loathe thee proudly feel_.--[MS.]
+
+[nf] {422}
+ _The words of God along the wall_.--[MS. erased.]
+ _The word of God--the graven wall_.--[MS.]
+
+[ng] _Behold it written_----.--[MS.]
+
+[nh] ----_thy sullied diadem_.--[MS.]
+
+[315] {423} [Byron gave these verses to Moore for Mr. Power of the
+Strand, who published them, with music by Sir John Stevenson. "I feel
+merry enough," he wrote, March 2, "to send you a sad song." And again,
+March 8, 1815, "An event--the death of poor Dorset--and the recollection
+of what I once felt, and ought to have felt now, but could not--set me
+pondering, and finally into the train of thought which you have in your
+hands." A year later, in another letter to Moore, he says, "I pique
+myself on these lines as being the _truest_, though the most melancholy,
+I ever wrote." (March 8, 1816.)--_Letters_, 1899, iii. 181, 183, 274.]
+
+[ni] _'Tis not the blush alone that fades from Beauty's cheek_.--[MS.]
+
+[nj] {424} _As ivy o'er the mouldering wall that heavily hath
+crept_.--[MS.]
+
+[316] [Compare--
+
+ "And oft we see gay ivy's wreath
+ The tree with brilliant bloom o'erspread,
+ When, part its leaves and gaze beneath,
+ We find the hidden tree is dead."
+ "To Anna," _The Warrior's Return, etc._, by Mrs. Opie, 1808, p. 144.]
+
+[317] {425} [From an autograph MS. in the possession of Mr. Murray, now
+for the first time printed. The MS. is headed, in pencil, "Lines written
+on the Death of the Duke of Dorset, a College Friend of Lord Byron's,
+who was killed by a fall from his horse while hunting." It is endorsed,
+"Bought of Markham Thorpe, August 29, 1844." (For Duke of Dorset, see
+_Poetical Works, 1898, i. 194, note 2_; and _Letters, 1899, in. 181,
+note 1._)]
+
+[nk] {426} ----_shall eternally be_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[nl] _Green be the turf_----.--[MS.]
+
+[318] [Compare "O lay me, ye that see the light, near some rock of my
+hills: let the thick hazels be around, let the rustling oaks be near.
+Green be the place of my rest."--"The War of Inis-Thona," _Works of
+Ossin_, 1765, i. 156.]
+
+[nm] _May its verdure be sweetest to see_.--[MS.]
+
+[nn] {427}
+ _Young flowers and a far-spreading tree_
+ _May wave on the spot of thy rest;_
+ _But nor cypress nor yew let it be_.--[MS.]
+
+[319] ["We need scarcely remind our readers that there are points in
+these spirited lines, with which our opinions do not accord; and,
+indeed, the author himself has told us that he rather adapted them to
+what he considered the speaker's feelings than his own."--_Examiner_,
+July 30, 1815.]
+
+[no] _The brightest and blackest are due to my fame_.--[MS.]
+
+[np] _But thy destiny wills_----.--[MS.]
+
+[nq] {428}
+ _Oh for the thousands of Those who have perished_
+ _By elements blasted, unvanquished by man_--
+ _Then the hope which till now I have fearlessly cherished_,
+ _Had waved o'er thine eagles in Victory's van_.--[MS.]
+
+[320] ["All wept, but particularly Savary, and a Polish officer who had
+been exalted from the ranks by Buonaparte. He clung to his master's
+knees; wrote a letter to Lord Keith, entreating permission to accompany
+him, even in the most menial capacity, which could not be
+admitted."--_Private Letter from Brussels._]
+
+[nr] {429} ----_that mute adieu_.--[MS.]
+
+[ns] _Dear as they have seemed to me_.--[MS.]
+
+[nt] _In the faith I pledged to thee_.--[MS.]
+
+[nu]
+ _Glory lightened from thy soul_.
+ _Never did I grieve till now_.--[MS.]
+
+[321] ["At Waterloo one man was seen, whose left arm was shattered by a
+cannon-ball, to wrench it off with the other, and, throwing it up in the
+air, exclaimed to his comrades, 'Vive l'Empereur, jusqu'à la mort!'
+There were many other instances of the like: this you may, however,
+depend on as true."--_Private Letter from Brussels._]
+
+[nv] _When the hearts of coward foes_.--[MS.]
+
+[nw] {430} ----_to Friendship's prayer_.--[MS.]
+
+[nx]
+ _'Twould not gather round his throne_
+ _Half the hearts that still are thine_.--[MS.]
+
+[ny]
+ _Let me but partake his doom_,
+ _Be it exile or the grave_.
+ or,
+ _All I ask is to abide_
+ _All the perils he must brave_,
+ _All my hope was to divide_.--[MS.]
+ or,
+ _Let me still partake his gloom_,
+ _Late his soldier, now his slave_--
+ _Grant me but to share the gloom_
+ _Of his exile or his grave_.--[MS.]
+
+[322] {431} [These lines "are said to have been done into English verse
+by R. S. ---- P. L. P. R., Master of the Royal Spanish Inqn., etc.,
+etc."--_Morning Chronicle_, March 15, 1816. "The French have their
+_Poems_ and _Odes_ on the famous Battle of Waterloo, as well as
+ourselves. Nay, they seem to glory in the battle as the source of great
+events to come. We have received the following poetical version of a
+poem, the original of which is circulating in Paris, and which is
+ascribed (we know not with what justice) to the Muse of M. de
+Chateaubriand. If so, it may be inferred that in the poet's eye a new
+change is at hand, and he wishes to prove his secret indulgence of old
+principles by reference to this effusion."--Note, _ibid._]
+
+[323] [Charles Angélique François Huchet, Comte de La Bédoyère, born
+1786, was in the retreat from Moscow, and in 1813 distinguished himself
+at the battles of Lutzen and Bautzen. On the return of Napoleon from
+Elba he was the first to bring him a regiment. He was promoted, and
+raised to the peerage, but being found in Paris after its occupation by
+the Allied army, he was tried by a court-martial, and suffered death
+August 15, 1815.]
+
+[324] {432} See _Rev._ Chap. viii. V. 7, etc., "The first angel sounded,
+and there followed hail and fire mingled with blood," etc. V. 8, "And
+the second angel sounded, and as it were a great mountain burning with
+fire was cast into the sea: and the third part of the sea became blood,"
+etc. V. 10, "And the third angel sounded, and there fell a great star
+from heaven, burning as it were a lamp, and it fell upon the third part
+of the rivers, and upon the fountains of waters." V. 11, "And the name
+of the star is called _Wormwood_: and the third part of the waters
+became _wormwood_; and many men died of the waters, because they were
+made bitter."
+
+[325] Murat's remains are said to have been torn from the grave and
+burnt. ["Poor dear Murat, what an end ...! His white plume used to be a
+rallying point in battle, like Henry the Fourth's. He refused a
+confessor and a bandage; so would neither suffer his soul or body to be
+bandaged."--Letter to Moore, November 4. 1815, _Letters_, 1899, iii.
+245. See, too, for Joachim Murat (born 1771), proclaimed King of Naples
+and the Two Sicilies, August, 1808, _ibid_., note 1.]
+
+[326] {434} ["Write, Britain, write the moral lesson down." Scott's
+_Field of Waterloo_, Conclusion, stanza vi. line 3.]
+
+[327] {435} ["Talking of politics, as Caleb Quotem says, pray look at
+the conclusion of my 'Ode on Waterloo,' written in the year 1815, and
+comparing it with the Duke de Berri's catastrophe in 1820, tell me if I
+have not as good a right to the character of '_Vates_,' in both senses
+of the word, as Fitzgerald and Coleridge?--
+
+ 'Crimson tears will follow yet;'
+
+and have not they?"--Letter to Murray, April 24, 1820.
+
+In the Preface to _The Tyrant's Downfall, etc_., 1814, W. L. Fitzgerald
+(see _English Bards, etc._, line 1, _Poetical Works_, 1898, i. 297, note
+3) "begs leave to refer his reader to the dates of his Napoleonics ...
+to prove his legitimate title to the prophetical meaning of _Vates_"
+(_Cent. Mag._, July, 1814, vol. lxxxiv. p. 58). Coleridge claimed to
+have foretold the restoration of the Bourbons (see _Biographia
+Literaria_, cap. x.).]
+
+[328] {436} ["The Friend who favoured us with the following lines, the
+poetical spirit of which wants no trumpet of ours, is aware that they
+imply more than an impartial observer of the late period might feel, and
+are written rather as by Frenchman than Englishman;--but certainly,
+neither he nor any lover of liberty can help feeling and regretting that
+in the latter time, at any rate, the symbol he speaks of was once more
+comparatively identified with the cause of Freedom."--_Examiner_. April
+7, 1816.]
+
+[329] {437} The tricolor.
+
+
+
+
+ THE SIEGE OF CORINTH
+
+ "Guns, Trumpets, Blunderbusses, Drums and Thunder."
+
+ Pope, _Sat._ i. 26.[330]
+
+
+
+ INTRODUCTION TO _THE SIEGE OF CORINTH_.
+
+
+In a note to the "Advertisement" to the _Siege of Corinth_ (_vide post_,
+p. 447), Byron puts it on record that during the years 1809-10 he had
+crossed the Isthmus of Corinth eight times, and in a letter to his
+mother, dated Patras, July 30, 1810, he alludes to a recent visit to the
+town of Corinth, in company with his friend Lord Sligo. (See, too, his
+letter to Coleridge, dated October 27, 1815, _Letters_, 1899, iii. 228.)
+It is probable that he revisited Corinth more than once in the autumn of
+1810; and we may infer that, just as the place and its surroundings--the
+temple with its "two or three columns" (line 497), and the view across
+the bay from Acro-Corinth--are sketched from memory, so the story of the
+siege which took place in 1715 is based upon tales and legends which
+were preserved and repeated by the grandchildren of the besieged, and
+were taken down from their lips. There is point and meaning in the
+apparently insignificant line (stanza xxiv. line 765), "We have heard
+the hearers say" (see _variant_ i. p. 483), which is slipped into the
+description of the final catastrophe. It bears witness to the fact that
+the _Siege of Corinth_ is not a poetical expansion of a chapter in
+history, but a heightened reminiscence of local tradition.
+
+History has, indeed, very little to say on the subject. The anonymous
+_Compleat History of the Turks_ (London, 1719), which Byron quotes as an
+authority, is meagre and inaccurate. Hammer-Purgstall (_Histoire de
+l'Empire Ottoman_, 1839, xiii. 269), who gives as his authorities
+Girolamo Ferrari and Raschid, dismisses the siege in a few lines; and it
+was not till the publication of Finlay's _History of Greece_ (vol. v.,
+a.d. 1453-1821), in 1856, that the facts were known or reported.
+Finlay's newly discovered authority was a then unpublished MS. of a
+journal kept by Benjamin Brue, a connection of Voltaire's, who
+accompanied the Grand Vizier, Ali Cumurgi, as his interpreter, on the
+expedition into the Morea. According to Brue (_Journal de la Campagne
+... en_ 1715 ... Paris, 1870, p. 18), the siege began on June 28, 1715.
+A peremptory demand on the part of the Grand Vizier to surrender at
+discretion was answered by the Venetian proveditor-general, Giacomo
+Minetto, with calm but assured defiance ("Your menaces are useless, for
+we are prepared to resist all your attacks, and, with confidence in the
+assistance of God, we will preserve this fortress to the most serene
+Republic. God is with us"). Nevertheless, the Turks made good their
+threat, and on the 2nd of July the fortress capitulated. On the
+following day at noon, whilst a party of Janissaries, contrary to order,
+were looting and pillaging in all directions, the fortress was seen to
+be enveloped in smoke. How or why the explosion happened was never
+discovered, but the result was that some of the pillaging Janissaries
+perished, and that others, to avenge their death, which they attributed
+to Venetian treachery, put the garrison to the sword. It was believed at
+the time that Minetto was among the slain; but, as Brue afterwards
+discovered, he was secretly conveyed to Smyrna, and ultimately ransomed
+by the Dutch Consul.
+
+The late Professor Kölbing (_Siege of Corinth_, 1893, p. xxvii.), in
+commenting on the sources of the poem, suggests, under reserve, that
+Byron may have derived the incident of Minetto's self-immolation from an
+historic source--the siege of Zsigetvar, in 1566, when a multitude of
+Turks perished from the explosion of a powder magazine which had been
+fired at the cost of his own life by the Hungarian commander Zrini.
+
+It is, at least, equally probable that local patriotism was, in the
+first instance, responsible for the poetic colouring, and that Byron
+supplemented the meagre and uninteresting historic details which were at
+his disposal by "intimate knowledge" of the Corinthian version of the
+siege. (See _Memoirs of the Life and Writings of the Right Hon. Lord
+Byron_, London, 1822, p. 222; and _Memoirs of the Life and Writings of
+Lord Byron_, by George Clinton, London, 1825, p. 284.)
+
+It has been generally held that the _Siege of Corinth_ was written in
+the second half of 1815 (Kölbing's _Siege of Corinth_, p. vii.). "It
+appears," says John Wright (_Works_, 1832, x. 100), "by the original
+MS., to have been begun in July, 1815;" and Moore (_Life_, p. 307), who
+probably relied on the same authority, speaks of "both the _Siege of
+Corinth_ and _Parisina_ having been produced but a short time before the
+Separation" (i.e. spring, 1816). Some words which Medwin
+(_Conversations_, 1824, p. 55) puts into Byron's mouth point to the same
+conclusion. Byron's own testimony, which is completely borne out by the
+MS. itself (dated J^y [i.e. January, not July] 31, 1815), is in direct
+conflict with these statements. In a note to stanza xix. lines 521-532
+(_vide post_, pp. 471-473) he affirms that it "was not till after these
+lines were written" that he heard "that wild and singularly original and
+beautiful poem [_Christabel_] recited;" and in a letter to S. T.
+Coleridge, dated October 27, 1815 (_Letters_, 1899, iii. 228), he is
+careful to explain that "the enclosed extract from an unpublished poem
+(i.e. stanza xix. lines 521-532) ... was written before (not seeing your
+_Christabelle_ [sic], for that you know I never did till this day), but
+before I heard Mr. S[cott] repeat it, which he did in June last, and
+this thing was begun in January, and more than half written before the
+Summer." The question of plagiarism will be discussed in an addendum to
+Byron's note on the lines in question; but, subject to the correction
+that it was, probably, at the end of May (see Lockhart's _Memoir of the
+Life of Sir W. Scott_, 1871, pp. 311-313), not in June, that Scott
+recited _Christabel_ for Byron's benefit, the date of the composition of
+the poem must be determined by the evidence of the author himself.
+
+The copy of the MS. of the _Siege of Corinth_ was sent to Murray at the
+beginning (probably on the 2nd, the date of the copy) of November, and
+was placed in Gifford's hands about the same time (see letter to Murray,
+November 4, 1815, _Letters_, 1899, iii. 245; and Murray's undated letter
+on Gifford's "great delight" in the poem, and his "three critical
+remarks," _Memoir of John Murray_, 1891, i. 356). As with _Lara_, Byron
+began by insisting that the _Siege_ should not be published separately,
+but slipped into a fourth volume of the collected works, and once again
+(possibly when he had at last made up his mind to accept a thousand
+guineas for his own requirements, and not for other
+beneficiaries--Godwin, Coleridge, or Maturin) yielded to his publisher's
+wishes and representations. At any rate, the _Siege of Corinth_ and
+_Parisina_, which, says Moore, "during the month of January and part of
+February were in the hands of the printers" (_Life_, p. 300), were
+published in a single volume on February 7, 1816. The greater reviews
+were silent, but notices appeared in numerous periodicals; e.g. the
+_Monthly Review_, February, 1816, vol. lxxix. p. 196; the _Eclectic
+Review_, March, 1816, N.S. vol. v. p. 269; the _European_, May, 1816,
+vol. lxxix. p. 427; the _Literary Panorama_, June, 1816, N.S. vol. iv.
+p. 418; etc. Many of these reviews took occasion to pick out and hold up
+to ridicule the illogical sentences, the grammatical solecisms, and
+general imperfections of _technique_ which marked and disfigured the
+_Siege of Corinth_. A passage in a letter which John Murray wrote to his
+brother-publisher, William Blackwood (_Annals of a Publishing House_,
+1897, i. 53), refers to these cavillings, and suggests both an apology
+and a retaliation--
+
+ "Many who by 'numbers judge a poet's song' are so stupid as not to
+ see the powerful effect of the poems, which is the great object of
+ poetry, because they can pick out fifty careless or even bad lines.
+ The words may be carelessly put together; but this is secondary.
+ Many can write polished lines who will never reach the name of
+ poet. You see it is all poetically conceived in Lord B.'s mind."
+
+In such wise did Murray bear testimony to Byron's "splendid and
+imperishable excellence, which covers all his offences and outweighs all
+his defects--the excellence of sincerity and strength."
+
+
+ To
+
+ JOHN HOBHOUSE, ESQ.,
+
+ this poem is inscribed,
+
+ by his
+
+ FRIEND.
+
+_January 22nd_, 1816.
+
+
+
+ ADVERTISEMENT
+
+"The grand army of the Turks (in 1715), under the Prime Vizier, to open
+to themselves a way into the heart of the Morea, and to form the siege
+of Napoli di Romania, the most considerable place in all that
+country,[331] thought it best in the first place to attack Corinth, upon
+which they made several storms. The garrison being weakened, and the
+governor seeing it was impossible to hold out such a place against so
+mighty a force, thought it fit to beat a parley: but while they were
+treating about the articles, one of the magazines in the Turkish camp,
+wherein they had six hundred barrels of powder, blew up by accident,
+whereby six or seven hundred men were killed; which so enraged the
+infidels, that they would not grant any capitulation, but stormed the
+place with so much fury, that they took it, and put most of the
+garrison, with Signior Minotti, the governor, to the sword. The rest,
+with Signior or Antonio Bembo, Proveditor Extraordinary, were made
+prisoners of war."--_A Compleat History of the Turks_ [London, 1719],
+iii. 151.
+
+
+
+
+ NOTE ON THE MS. OF _THE SIEGE OF CORINTH_.
+
+The original MS. of the _Siege of Corinth_ (now in the possession of
+Lord Glenesk) consists of sixteen folio and nine quarto sheets, and
+numbers fifty pages. Sheets 1-4 are folios, sheets 5-10 are quartos,
+sheets 11-22 are folios, and sheets 23-25 are quartos.
+
+To judge from the occasional and disconnected pagination, this MS.
+consists of portions of two or more fair copies of a number of detached
+scraps written at different times, together with two or three of the
+original scraps which had not been transcribed.
+
+The water-mark of the folios is, with one exception (No. 8, 1815), 1813;
+and of the quartos, with one exception (No. 8, 1814), 1812.
+
+Lord Glenesk's MS. is dated January 31, 1815. Lady Byron's transcript,
+from which the _Siege of Corinth_ was printed, and which is in Mr.
+Murray's possession, is dated November 2, 1815.
+
+
+
+
+ THE SIEGE OF CORINTH
+
+ In the year since Jesus died for men,[332]
+ Eighteen hundred years and ten,[333]
+ We were a gallant company,
+ Riding o'er land, and sailing o'er sea.
+ Oh! but we went merrily![334]
+ We forded the river, and clomb the high hill,
+ Never our steeds for a day stood still;
+ Whether we lay in the cave or the shed,
+ Our sleep fell soft on the hardest bed;
+ Whether we couched in our rough capote,[335] 10
+ On the rougher plank of our gliding boat,
+ Or stretched on the beach, or our saddles spread,
+ As a pillow beneath the resting head,
+ Fresh we woke upon the morrow:
+ All our thoughts and words had scope,
+ We had health, and we had hope,
+ Toil and travel, but no sorrow.
+ We were of all tongues and creeds;--
+ Some were those who counted beads,
+ Some of mosque, and some of church, 20
+ And some, or I mis-say, of neither;
+ Yet through the wide world might ye search,
+ Nor find a motlier crew nor blither.
+
+ But some are dead, and some are gone,
+ And some are scattered and alone,
+ And some are rebels on the hills[336]
+ That look along Epirus' valleys,
+ Where Freedom still at moments rallies,
+ And pays in blood Oppression's ills;
+ And some are in a far countree, 30
+ And some all restlessly at home;
+ But never more, oh! never, we
+ Shall meet to revel and to roam.
+ But those hardy days flew cheerily![nz]
+ And when they now fall drearily,
+ My thoughts, like swallows, skim the main,[337]
+ And bear my spirit back again
+ Over the earth, and through the air,
+ A wild bird and a wanderer.
+ 'Tis this that ever wakes my strain, 40
+ And oft, too oft, implores again
+ The few who may endure my lay,[oa]
+ To follow me so far away.
+ Stranger, wilt thou follow now,
+ And sit with me on Acro-Corinth's brow?
+
+ I.[338]
+
+ Many a vanished year and age,[ob]
+ And Tempest's breath, and Battle's rage,
+ Have swept o'er Corinth; yet she stands,
+ A fortress formed to Freedom's hands.[oc]
+ The Whirlwind's wrath, the Earthquake's shock, 50
+ Have left untouched her hoary rock,
+ The keystone of a land, which still,
+ Though fall'n, looks proudly on that hill,
+ The landmark to the double tide
+ That purpling rolls on either side,
+ As if their waters chafed to meet,
+ Yet pause and crouch beneath her feet.
+ But could the blood before her shed
+ Since first Timoleon's brother bled,[339]
+ Or baffled Persia's despot fled, 60
+ Arise from out the Earth which drank
+ The stream of Slaughter as it sank,
+ That sanguine Ocean would o'erflow
+ Her isthmus idly spread below:
+ Or could the bones of all the slain,[od]
+ Who perished there, be piled again,
+ That rival pyramid would rise
+ More mountain-like, through those clear skies[oe]
+ Than yon tower-capp'd Acropolis,
+ Which seems the very clouds to kiss. 70
+
+ II.
+
+ On dun Cithæron's ridge appears
+ The gleam of twice ten thousand spears;
+ And downward to the Isthmian plain,
+ From shore to shore of either main,[of]
+ The tent is pitched, the Crescent shines
+ Along the Moslem's leaguering lines;
+ And the dusk Spahi's bands[340] advance
+ Beneath each bearded Pacha's glance;
+ And far and wide as eye can reach[og]
+ The turbaned cohorts throng the beach; 80
+ And there the Arab's camel kneels,
+ And there his steed the Tartar wheels;
+ The Turcoman hath left his herd,[341]
+ The sabre round his loins to gird;
+ And there the volleying thunders pour,
+ Till waves grow smoother to the roar.
+ The trench is dug, the cannon's breath
+ Wings the far hissing globe of death;[342]
+ Fast whirl the fragments from the wall,
+ Which crumbles with the ponderous ball; 90
+ And from that wall the foe replies,
+ O'er dusty plain and smoky skies,
+ With fares that answer fast and well
+ The summons of the Infidel.
+
+ III.
+
+ But near and nearest to the wall
+ Of those who wish and work its fall,
+ With deeper skill in War's black art,
+ Than Othman's sons, and high of heart
+ As any Chief that ever stood
+ Triumphant in the fields of blood; 100
+ From post to post, and deed to deed,
+ Fast spurring on his reeking steed,
+ Where sallying ranks the trench assail,
+ And make the foremost Moslem quail;
+ Or where the battery, guarded well,
+ Remains as yet impregnable,
+ Alighting cheerly to inspire
+ The soldier slackening in his fire;
+ The first and freshest of the host
+ Which Stamboul's Sultan there can boast, 110
+ To guide the follower o'er the field,
+ To point the tube, the lance to wield,
+ Or whirl around the bickering blade;--
+ Was Alp, the Adrian renegade![343]
+
+ IV.
+
+ From Venice--once a race of worth
+ His gentle Sires--he drew his birth;
+ But late an exile from her shore,[oh]
+ Against his countrymen he bore
+ The arms they taught to bear; and now
+ The turban girt his shaven brow. 120
+ Through many a change had Corinth passed
+ With Greece to Venice' rule at last;
+ And here, before her walls, with those
+ To Greece and Venice equal foes,
+ He stood a foe, with all the zeal
+ Which young and fiery converts feel,
+ Within whose heated bosom throngs
+ The memory of a thousand wrongs.
+ To him had Venice ceased to be
+ Her ancient civic boast--"the Free;" 130
+ And in the palace of St. Mark
+ Unnamed accusers in the dark
+ Within the "Lion's mouth" had placed
+ A charge against him uneffaced:[344]
+ He fled in time, and saved his life,
+ To waste his future years in strife,[oi]
+ That taught his land how great her loss
+ In him who triumphed o'er the Cross,
+ 'Gainst which he reared the Crescent high,
+ And battled to avenge or die. 140
+
+ V.
+
+ Coumourgi[345]--he whose closing scene
+ Adorned the triumph of Eugene,
+ When on Carlowitz' bloody plain,
+ The last and mightiest of the slain,
+ He sank, regretting not to die,
+ But cursed the Christian's victory--
+ Coumourgi--can his glory cease,
+ That latest conqueror of Greece,
+ Till Christian hands to Greece restore
+ The freedom Venice gave of yore? 150
+ A hundred years have rolled away
+ Since he refixed the Moslem's sway;
+ And now he led the Mussulman,
+ And gave the guidance of the van
+ To Alp, who well repaid the trust
+ By cities levelled with the dust;
+ And proved, by many a deed of death,
+ How firm his heart in novel faith.
+
+ VI.
+
+ The walls grew weak; and fast and hot
+ Against them poured the ceaseless shot, 160
+ With unabating fury sent
+ From battery to battlement;
+ And thunder-like the pealing din[oj]
+ Rose from each heated culverin;
+ And here and there some crackling dome
+ Was fired before the exploding bomb;
+ And as the fabric sank beneath
+ The shattering shell's volcanic breath,
+ In red and wreathing columns flashed
+ The flame, as loud the ruin crashed, 170
+ Or into countless meteors driven,
+ Its earth-stars melted into heaven;[ok]
+ Whose clouds that day grew doubly dun,
+ Impervious to the hidden sun,
+ With volumed smoke that slowly grew[ol]
+ To one wide sky of sulphurous hue.
+
+ VII.
+
+ But not for vengeance, long delayed,
+ Alone, did Alp, the renegade,
+ The Moslem warriors sternly teach
+ His skill to pierce the promised breach: 180
+ Within these walls a Maid was pent
+ His hope would win, without consent
+ Of that inexorable Sire,
+ Whose heart refused him in its ire,
+ When Alp, beneath his Christian name,
+ Her virgin hand aspired to claim.
+ In happier mood, and earlier time,
+ While unimpeached for traitorous crime,
+ Gayest in Gondola or Hall,
+ He glittered through the Carnival; 190
+ And tuned the softest serenade
+ That e'er on Adria's waters played
+ At midnight to Italian maid.[om]
+
+ VIII.
+
+ And many deemed her heart was won;
+ For sought by numbers, given to none,
+ Had young Francesca's hand remained
+ Still by the Church's bonds unchained:
+ And when the Adriatic bore
+ Lanciotto to the Paynim shore,
+ Her wonted smiles were seen to fail, 200
+ And pensive waxed the maid and pale;
+ More constant at confessional,
+ More rare at masque and festival;
+ Or seen at such, with downcast eyes,
+ Which conquered hearts they ceased to prize:
+ With listless look she seems to gaze:
+ With humbler care her form arrays;
+ Her voice less lively in the song;
+ Her step, though light, less fleet among
+ The pairs, on whom the Morning's glance 210
+ Breaks, yet unsated with the dance.
+
+ IX.
+
+ Sent by the State to guard the land,
+ (Which, wrested from the Moslem's hand,[346]
+ While Sobieski tamed his pride
+ By Buda's wall and Danube's side,[on]
+ The chiefs of Venice wrung away
+ From Patra to Euboea's bay,)
+ Minotti held in Corinth's towers[oo]
+ The Doge's delegated powers,
+ While yet the pitying eye of Peace 220
+ Smiled o'er her long forgotten Greece:
+ And ere that faithless truce was broke
+ Which freed her from the unchristian yoke,
+ With him his gentle daughter came;
+ Nor there, since Menelaus' dame
+ Forsook her lord and land, to prove
+ What woes await on lawless love,
+ Had fairer form adorned the shore
+ Than she, the matchless stranger, bore.[op]
+
+ X.
+
+ The wall is rent, the ruins yawn; 230
+ And, with to-morrow's earliest dawn,
+ O'er the disjointed mass shall vault
+ The foremost of the fierce assault.
+ The bands are ranked--the chosen van
+ Of Tartar and of Mussulman,
+ The full of hope, misnamed "forlorn,"[347]
+ Who hold the thought of death in scorn,
+ And win their way with falchion's force,
+ Or pave the path with many a corse,
+ O'er which the following brave may rise, 240
+ Their stepping-stone--the last who dies![oq]
+
+ XI.
+
+ 'Tis midnight: on the mountains brown[348]
+ The cold, round moon shines deeply down;
+ Blue roll the waters, blue the sky
+ Spreads like an ocean hung on high,
+ Bespangled with those isles of light,[or][349]
+ So wildly, spiritually bright;
+ Who ever gazed upon them shining
+ And turned to earth without repining,
+ Nor wished for wings to flee away, 250
+ And mix with their eternal ray?
+ The waves on either shore lay there
+ Calm, clear, and azure as the air;
+ And scarce their foam the pebbles shook,
+ But murmured meekly as the brook.
+ The winds were pillowed on the waves;
+ The banners drooped along their staves,
+ And, as they fell around them furling,
+ Above them shone the crescent curling;
+ And that deep silence was unbroke, 260
+ Save where the watch his signal spoke,
+ Save where the steed neighed oft and shrill,
+ And echo answered from the hill,
+ And the wide hum of that wild host
+ Rustled like leaves from coast to coast,
+ As rose the Muezzin's voice in air
+ In midnight call to wonted prayer;
+ It rose, that chanted mournful strain,
+ Like some lone Spirit's o'er the plain:
+ 'Twas musical, but sadly sweet, 270
+ Such as when winds and harp-strings meet,
+ And take a long unmeasured tone,
+ To mortal minstrelsy unknown.[os]
+ It seemed to those within the wall
+ A cry prophetic of their fall:
+ It struck even the besieger's ear
+ With something ominous and drear,[350]
+ An undefined and sudden thrill,
+ Which makes the heart a moment still,
+ Then beat with quicker pulse, ashamed 280
+ Of that strange sense its silence framed;
+ Such as a sudden passing-bell
+ Wakes, though but for a stranger's knell.[ot]
+
+ XII.
+
+ The tent of Alp was on the shore;
+ The sound was hushed, the prayer was o'er;
+ The watch was set, the night-round made,
+ All mandates issued and obeyed:
+ 'Tis but another anxious night,
+ His pains the morrow may requite
+ With all Revenge and Love can pay, 290
+ In guerdon for their long delay.
+ Few hours remain, and he hath need
+ Of rest, to nerve for many a deed
+ Of slaughter; but within his soul
+ The thoughts like troubled waters roll.[ou]
+ He stood alone among the host;
+ Not his the loud fanatic boast
+ To plant the Crescent o'er the Cross,
+ Or risk a life with little loss,
+ Secure in paradise to be 300
+ By Houris loved immortally:
+ Nor his, what burning patriots feel,
+ The stern exaltedness of zeal,
+ Profuse of blood, untired in toil,
+ When battling on the parent soil.
+ He stood alone--a renegade
+ Against the country he betrayed;
+ He stood alone amidst his band,
+ Without a trusted heart or hand:
+ They followed him, for he was brave, 310
+ And great the spoil he got and gave;
+ They crouched to him, for he had skill
+ To warp and wield the vulgar will:[ov]
+ But still his Christian origin
+ With them was little less than sin.
+ They envied even the faithless fame
+ He earned beneath a Moslem name;
+ Since he, their mightiest chief, had been
+ In youth a bitter Nazarene.
+ They did not know how Pride can stoop, 320
+ When baffled feelings withering droop;
+ They did not know how Hate can burn
+ In hearts once changed from soft to stern;
+ Nor all the false and fatal zeal
+ The convert of Revenge can feel.
+ He ruled them--man may rule the worst,
+ By ever daring to be first:
+ So lions o'er the jackals sway;
+ The jackal points, he fells the prey,[ow][351]
+ Then on the vulgar, yelling, press, 330
+ To gorge the relics of success.
+
+ XIII.
+
+ His head grows fevered, and his pulse
+ The quick successive throbs convulse;
+ In vain from side to side he throws
+ His form, in courtship of repose;[ox]
+ Or if he dozed, a sound, a start
+ Awoke him with a sunken heart.
+ The turban on his hot brow pressed,
+ The mail weighed lead-like on his breast,
+ Though oft and long beneath its weight 340
+ Upon his eyes had slumber sate,
+ Without or couch or canopy,
+ Except a rougher field and sky[oy]
+ Than now might yield a warrior's bed,
+ Than now along the heaven was spread.
+ He could not rest, he could not stay
+ Within his tent to wait for day,[oz]
+ But walked him forth along the sand,
+ Where thousand sleepers strewed the strand.
+ What pillowed them? and why should he 350
+ More wakeful than the humblest be,
+ Since more their peril, worse their toil?
+ And yet they fearless dream of spoil;
+ While he alone, where thousands passed
+ A night of sleep, perchance their last,
+ In sickly vigil wandered on,
+ And envied all he gazed upon.
+
+ XIV.
+
+ He felt his soul become more light
+ Beneath the freshness of the night.
+ Cool was the silent sky, though calm, 360
+ And bathed his brow with airy balm:
+ Behind, the camp--before him lay,
+ In many a winding creek and bay,
+ Lepanto's gulf; and, on the brow
+ Of Delphi's hill, unshaken snow,[pa]
+ High and eternal, such as shone
+ Through thousand summers brightly gone,
+ Along the gulf, the mount, the clime;
+ It will not melt, like man, to time:
+ Tyrant and slave are swept away, 370
+ Less formed to wear before the ray;
+ But that white veil, the lightest, frailest,[352]
+ Which on the mighty mount thou hailest,
+ While tower and tree are torn and rent,
+ Shines o'er its craggy battlement;
+ In form a peak, in height a cloud,
+ In texture like a hovering shroud,
+ Thus high by parting Freedom spread,
+ As from her fond abode she fled,
+ And lingered on the spot, where long 380
+ Her prophet spirit spake in song.[pb]
+ Oh! still her step at moments falters
+ O'er withered fields, and ruined altars,
+ And fain would wake, in souls too broken,
+ By pointing to each glorious token:
+ But vain her voice, till better days
+ Dawn in those yet remembered rays,
+ Which shone upon the Persian flying,
+ And saw the Spartan smile in dying.
+
+ XV.
+
+ Not mindless of these mighty times 390
+ Was Alp, despite his flight and crimes;
+ And through this night, as on he wandered,[pc]
+ And o'er the past and present pondered,
+ And thought upon the glorious dead
+ Who there in better cause had bled,
+ He felt how faint and feebly dim[pd]
+ The fame that could accrue to him,
+ Who cheered the band, and waved the sword,[pe]
+ A traitor in a turbaned horde;
+ And led them to the lawless siege, 400
+ Whose best success were sacrilege.
+ Not so had those his fancy numbered,[353]
+ The chiefs whose dust around him slumbered;
+ Their phalanx marshalled on the plain,
+ Whose bulwarks were not then in vain.
+ They fell devoted, but undying;
+ The very gale their names seemed sighing;
+ The waters murmured of their name;
+ The woods were peopled with their fame;
+ The silent pillar, lone and grey, 410
+ Claimed kindred with their sacred clay;
+ Their spirits wrapped the dusky mountain,
+ Their memory sparkled o'er the fountain;[pf]
+ The meanest rill, the mightiest river
+ Rolled mingling with their fame for ever.
+ Despite of every yoke she bears,
+ That land is Glory's still and theirs![pg]
+ 'Tis still a watch-word to the earth:
+ When man would do a deed of worth
+ He points to Greece, and turns to tread, 420
+ So sanctioned, on the tyrant's head:
+ He looks to her, and rushes on
+ Where life is lost, or Freedom won.[ph]
+
+ XVI.
+
+ Still by the shore Alp mutely mused,
+ And wooed the freshness Night diffused.
+ There shrinks no ebb in that tideless sea,[354]
+ Which changeless rolls eternally;
+ So that wildest of waves, in their angriest mood,[pi]
+ Scarce break on the bounds of the land for a rood;
+ And the powerless moon beholds them flow, 430
+ Heedless if she come or go:
+ Calm or high, in main or bay,
+ On their course she hath no sway.
+ The rock unworn its base doth bare,
+ And looks o'er the surf, but it comes not there;
+ And the fringe of the foam may be seen below,
+ On the line that it left long ages ago:
+ A smooth short space of yellow sand[pj][355]
+ Between it and the greener land.
+
+ He wandered on along the beach, 440
+ Till within the range of a carbine's reach
+ Of the leaguered wall; but they saw him not,
+ Or how could he 'scape from the hostile shot?[pk]
+ Did traitors lurk in the Christians' hold?
+ Were their hands grown stiff, or their hearts waxed cold?
+ I know not, in sooth; but from yonder wall[pl]
+ There flashed no fire, and there hissed no ball,
+ Though he stood beneath the bastion's frown,
+ That flanked the seaward gate of the town;
+ Though he heard the sound, and could almost tell 450
+ The sullen words of the sentinel,
+ As his measured step on the stone below
+ Clanked, as he paced it to and fro;
+ And he saw the lean dogs beneath the wall
+ Hold o'er the dead their Carnival,[356]
+ Gorging and growling o'er carcass and limb;
+ They were too busy to bark at him!
+ From a Tartar's skull they had stripped the flesh,
+ As ye peel the fig when its fruit is fresh;
+ And their white tusks crunched o'er the whiter skull,[357] 460
+ As it slipped through their jaws, when their edge grew dull,
+ As they lazily mumbled the bones of the dead,
+ When they scarce could rise from the spot where they fed;
+ So well had they broken a lingering fast
+ With those who had fallen for that night's repast.
+ And Alp knew, by the turbans that rolled on the sand,
+ The foremost of these were the best of his band:
+ Crimson and green were the shawls of their wear,
+ And each scalp had a single long tuft of hair,[358]
+ All the rest was shaven and bare. 470
+ The scalps were in the wild dog's maw,
+ The hair was tangled round his jaw:
+ But close by the shore, on the edge of the gulf,
+ There sat a vulture flapping a wolf,
+ Who had stolen from the hills, but kept away,
+ Scared by the dogs, from the human prey;
+ But he seized on his share of a steed that lay,
+ Picked by the birds, on the sands of the bay.
+
+ XVII.
+
+ Alp turned him from the sickening sight:
+ Never had shaken his nerves in fight; 480
+ But he better could brook to behold the dying,
+ Deep in the tide of their warm blood lying,[pm][359]
+ Scorched with the death-thirst, and writhing in vain,
+ Than the perishing dead who are past all pain.[pn][360]
+ There is something of pride in the perilous hour,
+ Whate'er be the shape in which Death may lower;
+ For Fame is there to say who bleeds,
+ And Honour's eye on daring deeds![361]
+ But when all is past, it is humbling to tread[po]
+ O'er the weltering field of the tombless dead,[362] 490
+ And see worms of the earth, and fowls of the air,
+ Beasts of the forest, all gathering there;
+ All regarding man as their prey,
+ All rejoicing in his decay.[pp]
+
+ XVIII.
+
+ There is a temple in ruin stands,
+ Fashioned by long forgotten hands;
+ Two or three columns, and many a stone,
+ Marble and granite, with grass o'ergrown!
+ Out upon Time! it will leave no more
+ Of the things to come than the things before![pq][363] 500
+ Out upon Time! who for ever will leave
+ But enough of the past for the future to grieve
+ O'er that which hath been, and o'er that which must be:
+ What we have seen, our sons shall see;
+ Remnants of things that have passed away,
+ Fragments of stone, reared by creatures of clay![pr]
+
+ XIX.
+
+ He sate him down at a pillar's base,[364]
+ And passed his hand athwart his face;
+ Like one in dreary musing mood,
+ Declining was his attitude; 510
+ His head was drooping on his breast,
+ Fevered, throbbing, and oppressed;
+ And o'er his brow, so downward bent,
+ Oft his beating fingers went,
+ Hurriedly, as you may see
+ Your own run over the ivory key,
+ Ere the measured tone is taken
+ By the chords you would awaken.
+ There he sate all heavily,
+ As he heard the night-wind sigh. 520
+ Was it the wind through some hollow stone,[ps]
+ Sent that soft and tender moan?[365]
+ He lifted his head, and he looked on the sea,
+ But it was unrippled as glass may be;
+ He looked on the long grass--it waved not a blade;
+ How was that gentle sound conveyed?
+ He looked to the banners--each flag lay still,
+ So did the leaves on Cithæron's hill,
+ And he felt not a breath come over his cheek;
+ What did that sudden sound bespeak? 530
+ He turned to the left--is he sure of sight?
+ There sate a lady, youthful and bright![pt][366]
+
+ XX.
+
+ He started up with more of fear
+ Than if an arméd foe were near.
+ "God of my fathers! what is here?
+ Who art thou? and wherefore sent
+ So near a hostile armament?"
+ His trembling hands refused to sign
+ The cross he deemed no more divine:
+ He had resumed it in that hour,[pu] 540
+ But Conscience wrung away the power.
+ He gazed, he saw; he knew the face
+ Of beauty, and the form of grace;
+ It was Francesca by his side,
+ The maid who might have been his bride![pv]
+
+
+ The rose was yet upon her cheek,
+ But mellowed with a tenderer streak:
+ Where was the play of her soft lips fled?
+ Gone was the smile that enlivened their red.
+ The Ocean's calm within their view,[pw] 550
+ Beside her eye had less of blue;
+ But like that cold wave it stood still,
+ And its glance, though clear, was chill.[367]
+ Around her form a thin robe twining,
+ Nought concealed her bosom shining;
+ Through the parting of her hair,
+ Floating darkly downward there,
+ Her rounded arm showed white and bare:
+ And ere yet she made reply,
+ Once she raised her hand on high; 560
+ It was so wan, and transparent of hue,
+ You might have seen the moon shine through.
+
+ XXI.
+
+ "I come from my rest to him I love best,
+ That I may be happy, and he may be blessed.
+ I have passed the guards, the gate, the wall;
+ Sought thee in safety through foes and all.
+ 'Tis said the lion will turn and flee[368]
+ From a maid in the pride of her purity;
+ And the Power on high, that can shield the good
+ Thus from the tyrant of the wood, 570
+ Hath extended its mercy to guard me as well
+ From the hands of the leaguering Infidel.
+ I come--and if I come in vain,
+ Never, oh never, we meet again!
+ Thou hast done a fearful deed
+ In falling away from thy fathers' creed:
+ But dash that turban to earth, and sign
+ The sign of the cross, and for ever be mine;
+ Wring the black drop from thy heart,
+ And to-morrow unites us no more to part." 580
+
+ "And where should our bridal couch be spread?
+ In the midst of the dying and the dead?
+ For to-morrow we give to the slaughter and flame
+ The sons and the shrines of the Christian name.
+ None, save thou and thine, I've sworn,
+ Shall be left upon the morn:
+ But thee will I bear to a lovely spot,
+ Where our hands shall be joined, and our sorrow forgot.
+ There thou yet shall be my bride,
+ When once again I've quelled the pride 590
+ Of Venice; and her hated race
+ Have felt the arm they would debase
+ Scourge, with a whip of scorpions, those
+ Whom Vice and Envy made my foes."
+
+ Upon his hand she laid her own--
+ Light was the touch, but it thrilled to the bone,
+ And shot a chillness to his heart,[px]
+ Which fixed him beyond the power to start.
+ Though slight was that grasp so mortal cold,
+ He could not loose him from its hold; 600
+ But never did clasp of one so dear
+ Strike on the pulse with such feeling of fear,
+ As those thin fingers, long and white,
+ Froze through his blood by their touch that night.
+ The feverish glow of his brow was gone,
+ And his heart sank so still that it felt like stone,
+ As he looked on the face, and beheld its hue,[py]
+ So deeply changed from what he knew:
+ Fair but faint--without the ray
+ Of mind, that made each feature play 610
+ Like sparkling waves on a sunny day;
+ And her motionless lips lay still as death,
+ And her words came forth without her breath,
+ And there rose not a heave o'er her bosom's swell,[pz]
+ And there seemed not a pulse in her veins to dwell.
+ Though her eye shone out, yet the lids were fixed,[369]
+ And the glance that it gave was wild and unmixed
+ With aught of change, as the eyes may seem
+ Of the restless who walk in a troubled dream;
+ Like the figures on arras, that gloomily glare, 620
+ Stirred by the breath of the wintry air[qa]
+ So seen by the dying lamp's fitful light,[qb]
+ Lifeless, but life-like, and awful to sight;
+ As they seem, through the dimness, about to come down
+ From the shadowy wall where their images frown;
+ Fearfully flitting to and fro,
+ As the gusts on the tapestry come and go.[370]
+
+ "If not for love of me be given
+ Thus much, then, for the love of Heaven,--
+ Again I say--that turban tear 630
+ From off thy faithless brow, and swear
+ Thine injured country's sons to spare,
+ Or thou art lost; and never shalt see--
+ Not earth--that's past--but Heaven or me.
+ If this thou dost accord, albeit
+ A heavy doom' tis thine to meet,
+ That doom shall half absolve thy sin,
+ And Mercy's gate may receive thee within:[371]
+ But pause one moment more, and take
+ The curse of Him thou didst forsake; 640
+ And look once more to Heaven, and see
+ Its love for ever shut from thee.
+ There is a light cloud by the moon--[372]
+ 'Tis passing, and will pass full soon--
+ If, by the time its vapoury sail
+ Hath ceased her shaded orb to veil,
+ Thy heart within thee is not changed,
+ Then God and man are both avenged;
+ Dark will thy doom be, darker still
+ Thine immortality of ill." 650
+
+ Alp looked to heaven, and saw on high
+ The sign she spake of in the sky;
+ But his heart was swollen, and turned aside,
+ By deep interminable pride.[qc]
+ This first false passion of his breast
+ Rolled like a torrent o'er the rest.
+ _He_ sue for mercy! _He_ dismayed
+ By wild words of a timid maid!
+ _He_, wronged by Venice, vow to save
+ Her sons, devoted to the grave! 660
+ No--though that cloud were thunder's worst,
+ And charged to crush him--let it burst!
+
+ He looked upon it earnestly,
+ Without an accent of reply;
+ He watched it passing; it is flown:
+ Full on his eye the clear moon shone,
+ And thus he spake--"Whate'er my fate,
+ I am no changeling--'tis too late:
+ The reed in storms may bow and quiver,
+ Then rise again; the tree must shiver. 670
+ What Venice made me, I must be,
+ Her foe in all, save love to thee:
+ But thou art safe: oh, fly with me!"
+ He turned, but she is gone!
+ Nothing is there but the column stone.
+ Hath she sunk in the earth, or melted in air?
+ He saw not--he knew not--but nothing is there.
+
+ XXII.
+
+ The night is past, and shines the sun
+ As if that morn were a jocund one.[373]
+ Lightly and brightly breaks away 680
+ The Morning from her mantle grey,[374]
+ And the Noon will look on a sultry day.[375]
+ Hark to the trump, and the drum,
+ And the mournful sound of the barbarous horn,
+ And the flap of the banners, that flit as they're borne,
+ And the neigh of the steed, and the multitude's hum,
+ And the clash, and the shout, "They come! they come!"
+ The horsetails[376] are plucked from the ground, and the sword
+ From its sheath; and they form, and but wait for the word.
+ Tartar, and Spahi, and Turcoman, 690
+ Strike your tents, and throng to the van;
+ Mount ye, spur ye, skirr the plain,[377]
+ That the fugitive may flee in vain,
+ When he breaks from the town; and none escape,
+ Agéd or young, in the Christian shape;
+ While your fellows on foot, in a fiery mass,
+ Bloodstain the breach through which they pass.[378]
+ The steeds are all bridled, and snort to the rein;
+ Curved is each neck, and flowing each mane;
+ White is the foam of their champ on the bit; 700
+ The spears are uplifted; the matches are lit;
+ The cannon are pointed, and ready to roar,
+ And crush the wall they have crumbled before:[379]
+ Forms in his phalanx each Janizar;
+ Alp at their head; his right arm is bare,
+ So is the blade of his scimitar;
+ The Khan and the Pachas are all at their post;
+ The Vizier himself at the head of the host.
+ When the culverin's signal is fired, then on;
+ Leave not in Corinth a living one-- 710
+ A priest at her altars, a chief in her halls,
+ A hearth in her mansions, a stone on her walls.
+ God and the prophet--Alla Hu![380]
+ Up to the skies with that wild halloo!
+ "There the breach lies for passage, the ladder to scale;
+ And your hands on your sabres, and how should ye fail?
+ He who first downs with the red cross may crave[381]
+ His heart's dearest wish; let him ask it, and have!"
+ Thus uttered Coumourgi, the dauntless Vizier;[382]
+ The reply was the brandish of sabre and spear, 720
+ And the shout of fierce thousands in joyous ire:--
+ Silence--hark to the signal--fire!
+
+ XXIII.
+
+ As the wolves, that headlong go
+ On the stately buffalo,
+ Though with fiery eyes, and angry roar,
+ And hoofs that stamp, and horns that gore,
+ He tramples on earth, or tosses on high
+ The foremost, who rush on his strength but to die
+ Thus against the wall they went,
+ Thus the first were backward bent;[383] 730
+ Many a bosom, sheathed in brass,
+ Strewed the earth like broken glass,[qd]
+ Shivered by the shot, that tore
+ The ground whereon they moved no more:
+ Even as they fell, in files they lay,
+ Like the mower's grass at the close of day,[qe]
+ When his work is done on the levelled plain;
+ Such was the fall of the foremost slain.[384]
+
+ XXIV.
+
+ As the spring-tides, with heavy plash,
+ From the cliffs invading dash 740
+ Huge fragments, sapped by the ceaseless flow,
+ Till white and thundering down they go,
+ Like the avalanche's snow
+ On the Alpine vales below;
+ Thus at length, outbreathed and worn,
+ Corinth's sons were downward borne
+ By the long and oft renewed
+ Charge of the Moslem multitude.
+ In firmness they stood, and in masses they fell,
+ Heaped by the host of the Infidel, 750
+ Hand to hand, and foot to foot:
+ Nothing there, save Death, was mute;[385]
+ Stroke, and thrust, and flash, and cry
+ For quarter, or for victory,
+ Mingle there with the volleying thunder,
+ Which makes the distant cities wonder
+ How the sounding battle goes,
+ If with them, or for their foes;
+ If they must mourn, or may rejoice
+ In that annihilating voice, 760
+ Which pierces the deep hills through and through
+ With an echo dread and new:
+ You might have heard it, on that day,
+ O'er Salamis and Megara;
+ (We have heard the hearers say,)[qf]
+ Even unto Piræus' bay.
+
+ XXV.
+
+ From the point of encountering blades to the hilt,
+ Sabres and swords with blood were gilt;[386]
+ But the rampart is won, and the spoil begun,
+ And all but the after carnage done. 770
+ Shriller shrieks now mingling come
+ From within the plundered dome:
+ Hark to the haste of flying feet,
+ That splash in the blood of the slippery street;
+ But here and there, where 'vantage ground
+ Against the foe may still be found,
+ Desperate groups, of twelve or ten,
+ Make a pause, and turn again--
+ With banded backs against the wall,
+ Fiercely stand, or fighting fall. 780
+ There stood an old man[387]--his hairs were white,
+ But his veteran arm was full of might:
+ So gallantly bore he the brunt of the fray,
+ The dead before him, on that day,
+ In a semicircle lay;
+ Still he combated unwounded,
+ Though retreating, unsurrounded.
+ Many a scar of former fight
+ Lurked[388] beneath his corslet bright;
+ But of every wound his body bore, 790
+ Each and all had been ta'en before:
+ Though agéd, he was so iron of limb,
+ Few of our youth could cope with him,
+ And the foes, whom he singly kept at bay,
+ Outnumbered his thin hairs[389] of silver grey.
+ From right to left his sabre swept:
+ Many an Othman mother wept
+ Sons that were unborn, when dipped[390]
+ His weapon first in Moslem gore,
+ Ere his years could count a score. 800
+ Of all he might have been the sire[391]
+ Who fell that day beneath his ire:
+ For, sonless left long years ago,
+ His wrath made many a childless foe;
+ And since the day, when in the strait[392]
+ His only boy had met his fate,
+ His parent's iron hand did doom
+ More than a human hecatomb.[393]
+ If shades by carnage be appeased,
+ Patroclus' spirit less was pleased 810
+ Than his, Minotti's son, who died
+ Where Asia's bounds and ours divide.
+ Buried he lay, where thousands before
+ For thousands of years were inhumed on the shore;
+ What of them is left, to tell
+ Where they lie, and how they fell?
+ Not a stone on their turf, nor a bone in their graves;
+ But they live in the verse that immortally saves.[394]
+
+ XXVI.
+
+ Hark to the Allah shout![395] a band
+ Of the Mussulman bravest and best is at hand; 820
+ Their leader's nervous arm is bare,
+ Swifter to smite, and never to spare--
+ Unclothed to the shoulder it waves them on;
+ Thus in the fight is he ever known:
+ Others a gaudier garb may show,
+ To tempt the spoil of the greedy foe;
+ Many a hand's on a richer hilt,
+ But none on a steel more ruddily gilt;
+ Many a loftier turban may wear,--
+ Alp is but known by the white arm bare; 830
+ Look through the thick of the fight,'tis there!
+ There is not a standard on that shore
+ So well advanced the ranks before;
+ There is not a banner in Moslem war
+ Will lure the Delhis half so far;
+ It glances like a falling star!
+ Where'er that mighty arm is seen,
+ The bravest be, or late have been;[396]
+ There the craven cries for quarter
+ Vainly to the vengeful Tartar; 840
+ Or the hero, silent lying,
+ Scorns to yield a groan in dying;
+ Mustering his last feeble blow
+ 'Gainst the nearest levelled foe,
+ Though faint beneath the mutual wound,
+ Grappling on the gory ground.
+
+ XXVII.
+
+ Still the old man stood erect.
+ And Alp's career a moment checked.
+ "Yield thee, Minotti; quarter take,
+ For thine own, thy daughter's sake." 850
+
+ "Never, Renegado, never!
+ Though the life of thy gift would last for ever."[qg]
+
+ "Francesca!--Oh, my promised bride![qh]
+ Must she too perish by thy pride!"
+
+ "She is safe."--"Where? where?"--"In Heaven;
+ From whence thy traitor soul is driven--
+ Far from thee, and undefiled."
+ Grimly then Minotti smiled,
+ As he saw Alp staggering bow
+ Before his words, as with a blow. 860
+
+ "Oh God! when died she?"--"Yesternight--
+ Nor weep I for her spirit's flight:
+ None of my pure race shall be
+ Slaves to Mahomet and thee--
+ Come on!"--That challenge is in vain--
+ Alp's already with the slain!
+ While Minotti's words were wreaking
+ More revenge in bitter speaking
+ Than his falchion's point had found,
+ Had the time allowed to wound, 870
+ From within the neighbouring porch
+ Of a long defended church,
+ Where the last and desperate few
+ Would the failing fight renew,
+ The sharp shot dashed Alp to the ground;
+ Ere an eye could view the wound
+ That crashed through the brain of the infidel,
+ Round he spun, and down he fell;
+ A flash like fire within his eyes
+ Blazed, as he bent no more to rise, 880
+ And then eternal darkness sunk
+ Through all the palpitating trunk;[qi]
+ Nought of life left, save a quivering
+ Where his limbs were slightly shivering:
+ They turned him on his back; his breast
+ And brow were stained with gore and dust,
+ And through his lips the life-blood oozed,
+ From its deep veins lately loosed;
+ But in his pulse there was no throb,
+ Nor on his lips one dying sob; 890
+ Sigh, nor word, nor struggling breath[qj]
+ Heralded his way to death:
+ Ere his very thought could pray,
+ Unaneled he passed away,
+ Without a hope from Mercy's aid,--
+ To the last a Renegade.[397]
+
+ XXVIII.
+
+ Fearfully the yell arose
+ Of his followers, and his foes;
+ These in joy, in fury those:[qk]
+ Then again in conflict mixing,[ql] 900
+ Clashing swords, and spears transfixing,
+ Interchanged the blow and thrust,
+ Hurling warriors in the dust.
+ Street by street, and foot by foot,
+ Still Minotti dares dispute
+ The latest portion of the land
+ Left beneath his high command;
+ With him, aiding heart and hand,
+ The remnant of his gallant band.
+ Still the church is tenable, 910
+ Whence issued late the fated ball
+ That half avenged the city's fall,
+ When Alp, her fierce assailant, fell:
+ Thither bending sternly back,
+ They leave before a bloody track;
+ And, with their faces to the foe,
+ Dealing wounds with every blow,[398]
+ The chief, and his retreating train,
+ Join to those within the fane;
+ There they yet may breathe awhile, 920
+ Sheltered by the massy pile.
+
+ XXIX.
+
+ Brief breathing-time! the turbaned host,
+ With added ranks and raging boast,
+ Press onwards with such strength and heat,
+ Their numbers balk their own retreat;
+ For narrow the way that led to the spot
+ Where still the Christians yielded not;
+ And the foremost, if fearful, may vainly try
+ Through the massy column to turn and fly;
+ They perforce must do or die. 930
+ They die; but ere their eyes could close,
+ Avengers o'er their bodies rose;
+ Fresh and furious, fast they fill
+ The ranks unthinned, though slaughtered still;
+ And faint the weary Christians wax
+ Before the still renewed attacks:
+ And now the Othmans gain the gate;
+ Still resists its iron weight,
+ And still, all deadly aimed and hot,
+ From every crevice comes the shot; 940
+ From every shattered window pour
+ The volleys of the sulphurous shower:
+ But the portal wavering grows and weak--
+ The iron yields, the hinges creak--
+ It bends--it falls--and all is o'er;
+ Lost Corinth may resist no more!
+
+ XXX.
+
+ Darkly, sternly, and all alone,
+ Minotti stood o'er the altar stone:
+ Madonna's face upon him shone,[399]
+ Painted in heavenly hues above, 950
+ With eyes of light and looks of love;
+ And placed upon that holy shrine
+ To fix our thoughts on things divine,
+ When pictured there, we kneeling see
+ Her, and the boy-God on her knee,
+ Smiling sweetly on each prayer
+ To Heaven, as if to waft it there.
+ Still she smiled; even now she smiles,
+ Though slaughter streams along her aisles:
+ Minotti lifted his agéd eye, 960
+ And made the sign of a cross with a sigh,
+ Then seized a torch which blazed thereby;
+ And still he stood, while with steel and flame,
+ Inward and onward the Mussulman came.
+
+ XXXI.
+
+ The vaults beneath the mosaic stone[qm]
+ Contained the dead of ages gone;
+ Their names were on the graven floor,
+ But now illegible with gore;[qn]
+ The carvéd crests, and curious hues
+ The varied marble's veins diffuse, 970
+ Were smeared, and slippery--stained, and strown
+ With broken swords, and helms o'erthrown:
+ There were dead above, and the dead below
+ Lay cold in many a coffined row;
+ You might see them piled in sable state,
+ By a pale light through a gloomy grate;
+ But War had entered their dark caves,[qo]
+ And stored along the vaulted graves
+ Her sulphurous treasures, thickly spread
+ In masses by the fleshless dead: 980
+ Here, throughout the siege, had been
+ The Christians' chiefest magazine;
+ To these a late formed train now led,
+ Minotti's last and stern resource
+ Against the foe's o'erwhelming force.
+
+ XXXII.
+
+ The foe came on, and few remain
+ To strive, and those must strive in vain:
+ For lack of further lives, to slake
+ The thirst of vengeance now awake,
+ With barbarous blows they gash the dead, 990
+ And lop the already lifeless head,
+ And fell the statues from their niche,
+ And spoil the shrines of offerings rich,
+ And from each other's rude hands wrest
+ The silver vessels Saints had blessed.
+ To the high altar on they go;
+ Oh, but it made a glorious show![400]
+ On its table still behold
+ The cup of consecrated gold;
+ Massy and deep, a glittering prize, 1000
+ Brightly it sparkles to plunderers' eyes:
+ That morn it held the holy wine,[qp]
+ Converted by Christ to his blood so divine,
+ Which his worshippers drank at the break of day,[qq]
+ To shrive their souls ere they joined in the fray.
+ Still a few drops within it lay;
+ And round the sacred table glow
+ Twelve lofty lamps, in splendid row,
+ From the purest metal cast;
+ A spoil--the richest, and the last. 1010
+
+ XXXIII.
+
+ So near they came, the nearest stretched
+ To grasp the spoil he almost reached
+ When old Minotti's hand
+ Touched with the torch the train--
+ 'Tis fired![401]
+ Spire, vaults, the shrine, the spoil, the slain,
+ The turbaned victors, the Christian band,
+ All that of living or dead remain,
+ Hurled on high with the shivered fane,
+ In one wild roar expired![402] 1020
+ The shattered town--the walls thrown down--
+ The waves a moment backward bent--
+ The hills that shake, although unrent,[qr]
+ As if an Earthquake passed--
+ The thousand shapeless things all driven
+ In cloud and flame athwart the heaven,
+ By that tremendous blast--
+ Proclaimed the desperate conflict o'er
+ On that too long afflicted shore:[403]
+ Up to the sky like rockets go 1030
+ All that mingled there below:
+ Many a tall and goodly man,
+ Scorched and shrivelled to a span,
+ When he fell to earth again
+ Like a cinder strewed the plain:
+ Down the ashes shower like rain;
+ Some fell in the gulf, which received the sprinkles
+ With a thousand circling wrinkles;
+ Some fell on the shore, but, far away,
+ Scattered o'er the isthmus lay; 1040
+ Christian or Moslem, which be they?
+ Let their mothers see and say![qs]
+ When in cradled rest they lay,
+ And each nursing mother smiled
+ On the sweet sleep of her child,
+ Little deemed she such a day
+ Would rend those tender limbs away.[404]
+ Not the matrons that them bore
+ Could discern their offspring more;[405]
+ That one moment left no trace 1050
+ More of human form or face
+ Save a scattered scalp or bone:
+ And down came blazing rafters, strown
+ Around, and many a falling stone,[qt]
+ Deeply dinted in the clay,
+ All blackened there and reeking lay.
+ All the living things that heard
+ The deadly earth-shock disappeared:
+ The wild birds flew; the wild dogs fled,
+ And howling left the unburied dead;[qu][406] 1060
+ The camels from their keepers broke;
+ The distant steer forsook the yoke--
+ The nearer steed plunged o'er the plain,
+ And burst his girth, and tore his rein;
+ The bull-frog's note, from out the marsh,
+ Deep-mouthed arose, and doubly harsh;[407]
+ The wolves yelled on the caverned hill
+ Where Echo rolled in thunder still;[qv]
+ The jackal's troop, in gathered cry,[qw][408]
+ Bayed from afar complainingly, 1070
+ With a mixed and mournful sound,[qx]
+ Like crying babe, and beaten hound:[409]
+ With sudden wing, and ruffled breast,
+ The eagle left his rocky nest,
+ And mounted nearer to the sun,
+ The clouds beneath him seemed so dun;
+ Their smoke assailed his startled beak,
+ And made him higher soar and shriek--
+ Thus was Corinth lost and won![410]
+
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[330] "With Gun, Drum, Trumpet, Blunderbuss, and Thunder."
+
+[331] {447} Napoli di Romania is not now the most considerable place in
+the Morea, but Tripolitza, where the Pacha resides, and maintains his
+government. Napoli is near Argos. I visited all three in 1810-11; and,
+in the course of journeying through the country from my first arrival in
+1809, I crossed the Isthmus eight times in my way from Attica to the
+Morea, over the mountains; or in the other direction, when passing from
+the Gulf of Athens to that of Lepanto. Both the routes are picturesque
+and beautiful, though very different: that by sea has more sameness; but
+the voyage, being always within sight of land, and often very near it,
+presents many attractive views of the islands Salamis, Ægina, Poros,
+etc., and the coast of the Continent.
+
+["Independently of the suitableness of such an event to the power of
+Lord Byron's genius, the Fall of Corinth afforded local attractions, by
+the intimate knowledge which the poet had of the place and surrounding
+objects.... Thus furnished with that topographical information which
+could not be well obtained from books and maps, he was admirably
+qualified to depict the various operations and progress of the
+siege."--_Memoir of the Life and Writings of the Right Honourable Lord
+Byron_, London, 1822, p. 222.]
+
+[332] {449} [The introductory lines, 1-45, are not included in the copy
+of the poem in Lady Byron's handwriting, nor were they published in the
+First Edition. On Christmas Day, 1815, Byron, enclosing this fragment to
+Murray, says, "I send some lines written some time ago, and intended as
+an opening to the _Siege of Corinth_. I had forgotten them, and am not
+sure that they had not better be left out now;--on that you and your
+Synod can determine." They are headed in the MS., "The Stranger's Tale,"
+October 23rd. First published in _Letters and Journals_, 1830, i. 638,
+they were included among the _Occasional Poems_ in the edition of 1831,
+and first prefixed to the poem in the edition of 1832.]
+
+[333] [The metrical rendering of the date (miscalculated from the death
+instead of the birth of Christ) may be traced to the opening lines of an
+old ballad (Kölbing's _Siege of Corinth_, p. 53)--
+
+ "Upon the sixteen hunder year
+ Of God, and fifty-three,
+ From Christ was born, that bought us dear,
+ As writings testifie," etc.
+
+See "The Life and Age of Man" (_Burns' Selected Poems_, ed. by J. L.
+Robertson, 1889, p. 191).]
+
+[334] [Compare letter to Hodgson, July 16, 1809: "How merrily we lives
+that travellers be!"--_Letters_, 1898, i. 233.]
+
+[335] {450} [For "capote," compare _Childe Harold_, Canto II. stanza
+lii. line 7, and Byron's note (24.B.), _Poetical Works_, 1899, ii. 132,
+181. Compare, too, letter to Mrs. Byron, November 12, 1809 (_Letters_,
+1899, i. 253): "Two days ago I was nearly lost in a Turkish ship of
+war.... I wrapped myself up in my Albanian capote (an immense cloak),
+and lay down on deck to wait the worst."]
+
+[336] The last tidings recently heard of Dervish (one of the Arnauts who
+followed me) state him to be in revolt upon the mountains, at the head
+of some of the bands common in that country in times of trouble.
+
+[nz] {451} _But those winged days_----.--[MS.]
+
+[337] [Compare Kingsley's _Last Buccaneer_--
+
+ "If I might but be a sea-dove, I'd fly across the main--
+ To the pleasant isle of Aves, to look at it once again."]
+
+[oa] _The kindly few who love my lay_.--[MS.]
+
+[338] [The MS. is dated J^y (January) 31, 1815. Lady Byron's copy is
+dated November 2, 1815.]
+
+[ob] _Many a year, and many an age_.--[MS. G. Copy.]
+
+[oc] _A marvel from her Moslem bands_.--[MS. G.]
+
+[339] {452} [Timoleon, who had saved the life of his brother Timophanes
+in battle, afterwards put him to death for aiming at the supreme power
+in Corinth. Warton says that Pope once intended to write an epic poem on
+the story, and that Akenside had the same design (_Works_ of Alexander
+Pope, Esq., 1806, ii. 83).]
+
+[od] _Or could the dead be raised again_.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[oe]
+ ----_through yon clear skies_
+ _Than tower-capt Acropolis_.--[MS. G.]
+
+[of] _Stretched on the edge----.--[MS. G. erased.]_
+
+[340] [Turkish holders of military fiefs.]
+
+[og]
+ _The turbaned crowd of dusky hue_
+ _Whose march Morea's fields may rue_.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[341] {453} The life of the Turcomans is wandering and patriarchal: they
+dwell in tents.
+
+[342] [Compare _The Giaour_, line 639 (_vide ante_, p. 116)--"The
+deathshot hissing from afar."]
+
+[343] {454} [Professor Kolbing admits that he is unable to say how
+"Byron met with the name of Alp." I am indebted to my cousin, Miss Edith
+Coleridge, for the suggestion that the name is derived from Mohammed
+(Lhaz-ed-Dyn-Abou-Choudja), surnamed Alp-Arslan (Arsslan), or "Brave
+Lion," the second of the Seljuk dynasty, in the eleventh century. "He
+conquered Armenia and Georgia ... but was assassinated by Yussuf
+Cothuol, Governor of Berzem, and was buried at Merw, in Khorassan." His
+epitaph moralizes his fate: "O vous qui avez vu la grandeur d'Alparslan
+élevée jusq'au ciel, regardez! le voici maintenant en
+poussière."--Hammer-Purgstall, _Histoire de l'Empire Othoman_, i.
+13-15.]
+
+[oh] _But now an exile_----.--[MS. G.]
+
+[344] {455} ["The _Lions' Mouths_, under the arcade at the summit of the
+Giants' Stairs, which gaped widely to receive anonymous charges, were no
+doubt far more often employed as vehicles of private malice than of zeal
+for the public welfare."--_Sketches from Venetian History_, 1832, ii.
+380.]
+
+[oi] _To waste its future_----.--[MS. G.]
+
+[345] Ali Coumourgi [Damad Ali or Ali Cumurgi (i.e. son of the
+charcoal-burner)], the favourite of three sultans, and Grand Vizier to
+Achmet III., after recovering Peloponnesus from the Venetians in one
+campaign, was mortally wounded in the next, against the Germans, at the
+battle of Peterwaradin (in the plain of Carlowitz), in Hungary,
+endeavouring to rally his guards. He died of his wounds next day [August
+16, 1716]. His last order was the decapitation of General Breuner, and
+some other German prisoners, and his last words, "Oh that I could thus
+serve all the Christian dogs!" a speech and act not unlike one of
+Caligula. He was a young man of great ambition and unbounded
+presumption: on being told that Prince Eugene, then opposed to him, "was
+a great general," he said, "I shall become a greater, and at his
+expense."
+
+[For his letter to Prince Eugene, "Eh bien! la guerre va décider entre
+nous," etc., and for an account of his death, see Hammer-Purgstall,
+_Historie de l'Empire Othoman_, xiii. 300, 312.]
+
+[oj] {456} _And death-like rolled_----.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[ok] _Like comets in convulsion riven_.--[MS. G. Copy erased.]
+
+[ol]
+ _Impervious to the powerless sun_,
+ _Through sulphurous smoke whose blackness grew_.--
+ [MS. G. erased.]
+
+[om] {457} _In midnight courtship to Italian maid_.--[MS. G.]
+
+[346] {458} [The siege of Vienna was raised by John Sobieski, King of
+Poland (1629-1696), September 12, 1683. Buda was retaken from the Turks
+by Charles VII., Duke of Lorraine, Sobieski's ally and former rival for
+the kingdom of Poland, September 2, 1686. The conquest of the Morea was
+begun by the Venetians in 1685, and completed in 1699.]
+
+[on] _By Buda's wall to Danube's side_.--[MS. G.]
+
+[oo] _Pisani held_----.--[MS. G.]
+
+[op] _Than she, the beauteous stranger, bore_.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[347] {459} [For Byron's use of the phrase, "Forlorn Hope," as an
+equivalent of the Turkish Delhis, or Delis, see _Childe Harold_, Canto
+II. ("The Albanian War-Song"), _Poetical Works_, 1899, ii. 149, note 1.]
+
+[oq] _By stepping o'er_----.--[MS. G.]
+
+[348] ["Brown" is Byron's usual epithet for landscape seen by moonlight.
+Compare _Childe Harold_, Canto II. stanza xxii. line 6, etc., _Poetical
+Works_, 1899, ii. 113, note 3.]
+
+[or] _Bespangled with her isles_----.--[MS. G.]
+
+[349] ["Stars" are likened to "isles" by Campbell, in _The Pleasures of
+Hope_, Part II.--
+
+ "The seraph eye shall count the starry train,
+ Like distant isles embosomed on the main."
+
+And "isles" to "stars" by Byron, in _The Island_, Canto II. stanza xi.
+lines 14, 15--
+
+ "The studded archipelago,
+ O'er whose blue bosom rose the starry isles."
+
+For other "star-similes," see _Childe Harold_, Canto III. stanza
+lxxxviii. line 9, _Poetical Works_, 1899, ii. 270, note 2.]
+
+[os]
+ _And take a dark unmeasured tone._--[MS. G.]
+ _And make a melancholy moan_,
+ _To mortal voice and ear unknown._--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[350] {461} [Compare Scott's _Marmion_, III. xvi. 4--
+
+ "And that strange Palmer's boding say,
+ That fell so ominous and drear."]
+
+[ot]
+ ----_by fancy framed_,
+ _Which rings a deep, internal knell_,
+ _A visionary passing-bell._--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[ou] _The thoughts tumultuously roll._--[MS. G.]
+
+[ov] {462} _To triumph o'er_----.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[ow]
+ _They but provide, he fells the prey._--[MS. G.]
+ _As lions o'er the jackal sway_
+ _By springing dauntless on the prey;_
+ _They follow on, and yelling press_
+ _To gorge the fragments of success._--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[351] [Lines 329-331 are inserted in the copy. They are in Byron's
+handwriting. Compare _Don Juan_, Canto IX. stanza xxvii. line 1,
+_seq._--"_That's_ an appropriate simile, _that jackal_."]
+
+[ox] {463}
+ _He vainly turned from side to side_,
+ _And each reposing posture tried_.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[oy] _Beyond a rougher_----.--[MS. G.]
+
+[oz] ----_to sigh for day_.--[MS. G.]
+
+[pa] {464}
+ _Of Liakura--his unmelting snow_
+ _Bright and eternal_----.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[352] [Compare _The Giaour_, line 566 (_vide ante_, p. 113)--
+
+ "For where is he that hath beheld
+ The peak of Liakura unveiled?"
+
+The reference is to the almost perpetual "cap" of mist on Parnassus
+(Mount Likeri or Liakura), which lies some thirty miles to the
+north-west of Corinth.]
+
+[pb] {465} _Her spirit spoke in deathless song_.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[pc] _And in this night_----.--[MS. G.]
+
+[pd] _He felt how little and how dim_.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[pe] _Who led the band_----.--[MS. G.]
+
+[353] [Compare _The Giaour_, lines 103, _seq._ (_vide ante_, p.
+91)--"Clime of the unforgotten brave!" etc.]
+
+[pf] {466} _Their memory hallowed every fountain_.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[pg] Here follows, in the MS.--
+
+ _Immortal--boundless--undecayed--_
+ _Their souls the very soil pervade_.--
+ [_In the Copy the lines are erased_.]
+
+[ph] _Where Freedom loveliest may be won_.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[354] The reader need hardly be reminded that there are no perceptible
+tides in the Mediterranean.
+
+[pi] _So that fiercest of waves_----.--[MS. G.]
+
+[pj] {467} _A little space of light grey sand_.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[355] [Compare _The Island_, Canto IV. sect. ii. lines 11, 12--
+
+ "A narrow segment of the yellow sand
+ On one side forms the outline of a strand."]
+
+[pk]
+ _Or would not waste on a single head_
+ _The ball on numbers better sped_.--[MS. G. erased]
+
+[pl] _I know not in faith_----.--[MS. G.]
+
+[356] [Gifford has drawn his pen through lines 456-478. If, as the
+editor of _The Works of Lord Byron_, 1832 (x. 100), maintains, "Lord
+Byron gave Mr. Gifford _carte blanche_ to strike out or alter anything
+at his pleasure in this poem as it was passing through the press," it is
+somewhat remarkable that he does not appear to have paid any attention
+whatever to the august "reader's" suggestions and strictures. The sheets
+on which Gifford's corrections are scrawled are not proof-sheets, but
+pages torn out of the first edition; and it is probable that they were
+made after the poem was published, and with a view to the inclusion of
+an emended edition in the collected works. See letter to Murray, January
+2, 1817.]
+
+[357] {468} This spectacle I have seen, such as described, beneath the
+wall of the Seraglio at Constantinople, in the little cavities worn by
+the Bosphorus in the rock, a narrow terrace of which projects between
+the wall and the water. I think the fact is also mentioned in Hobhouse's
+_Travels_ [_in Albania_, 1855, ii. 215]. The bodies were probably those
+of some refractory Janizaries.
+
+[358] This tuft, or long lock, is left from a superstition that Mahomet
+will draw them into Paradise by it.
+
+[pm] {469} _Deep in the tide of their lost blood lying_.--[MS. G.
+Copy.]
+
+[359] ["Than the mangled corpse in its own blood lying."--Gifford.]
+
+[pn] _Than the rotting dead_----.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[360] [Strike out--
+
+ "Scorch'd with the death-thirst, and writhing in vain,
+ Than the perishing dead who are past all pain."
+
+What is a "perishing dead"?--Gifford.]
+
+[361] [Lines 487, 488 are inserted in the copy in Byron's handwriting.]
+
+[po] _And when all_----.--[MS. G.]
+
+[362] ["O'er the weltering _limbs_ of the tombless dead."--Gifford.]
+
+[pp]
+ _All that liveth on man will prey_,
+ _All rejoicing in his decay,_
+ or,
+ _Nature rejoicing in his decay_.
+ _All that can kindle dismay and disgust_
+ _Follow his frame from the bier to the dust._--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[pq] {470}
+ ----_it hath left no more_
+ _Of the mightiest things that have gone before_.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[363] [Omit this couplet.--Gifford.]
+
+[pr] After this follows in the MS. erased--
+
+ _Monuments that the coming age_
+ _Leaves to the spoil of the season's rage_--
+ _Till Ruin makes the relics scarce_,
+ _Then Learning acts her solemn farce_,
+ _And, roaming through the marble waste_,
+ _Prates of beauty, art, and taste_.
+
+ XIX.
+
+ _That Temple was more in the midst of the plain_--
+ or,
+ _What of that shrine did yet remain_
+ _Lay to his left more in midst of the plain_.--[MS. G.]
+
+[364] [From this all is beautiful to--"He saw not--he knew not--but
+nothing is there."--Gifford. For "pillar's base," compare _Childe
+Harold_, Canto II. stanza x. line 2, _Poetical Works_, 1899, ii. 105.]
+
+[ps] {471} _Is it the wind that through the stone._ or,----_o'er the
+heavy stone_.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[365] I must here acknowledge a close, though unintentional, resemblance
+in these twelve lines to a passage in an unpublished poem of Mr.
+Coleridge, called "Christabel." It was not till after these lines were
+written that I heard that wild and singularly original and beautiful
+poem recited; and the MS. of that production I never saw till very
+recently, by the kindness of Mr. Coleridge himself, who, I hope, is
+convinced that I have not been a wilful plagiarist. The original idea
+undoubtedly pertains to Mr. Coleridge, whose poem has been composed
+above fourteen years. Let me conclude by a hope that he will not longer
+delay the publication of a production, of which I can only add my mite
+of approbation to the applause of far more competent judges.
+
+[The lines in _Christabel_, Part the First, 43-52, 57, 58, are these--
+
+ "The night is chill; the forest bare;
+ Is it the wind that moaneth bleak?
+ There is not wind enough in the air
+ To move away the ringlet curl
+ From the lovely lady's cheek--
+ There is not wind enough to twirl
+ The one red leaf, the last of its clan,
+ That dances as often as dance it can,
+ Hanging so light, and hanging so high,
+ On the topmost twig that looks up at the sky."
+
+ " ... What sees she there?
+ There she sees a damsel bright,
+ Drest in a silken robe of white."
+
+Byron (_vide ante_, p. 443), in a letter to Coleridge, dated October 27,
+1815, had already expressly guarded himself against a charge of
+plagiarism, by explaining that lines 521-532 of stanza xix. were written
+before he heard Walter Scott repeat _Christabel_ in the preceding June.
+Now, as Byron himself perceived, perhaps for the first time, when he had
+the MS. of _Christabel_ before him, the coincidence in language and
+style between the two passages is unquestionable; and, as he hoped and
+expected that Coleridge's fragment, when completed, would issue from the
+press, he was anxious to avoid even the semblance of pilfering, and went
+so far as to suggest that the passage should be cancelled. Neither in
+the private letter nor the published note does Byron attempt to deny or
+explain away the coincidence, but pleads that his lines were written
+before he had heard Coleridge's poem recited, and that he had not been
+guilty of a "wilful plagiarism." There is no difficulty in accepting his
+statement. Long before the summer of 1815 _Christabel_ "had a pretty
+general circulation in the literary world" (Medwin, _Conversations_,
+1824, p. 261), and he may have heard without heeding this and other
+passages quoted by privileged readers; or, though never a line of
+_Christabel_ had sounded in his ears, he may (as Kölbing points out)
+have caught its lilt at second hand from the published works of Southey,
+or of Scott himself.
+
+Compare _Thalaba the Destroyer_, v. 20 (1838, iv. 187)--
+
+ "What sound is borne on the wind?
+ Is it the storm that shakes
+ The thousand oaks of the forest?
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Is it the river's roar
+ Dashed down some rocky descent?" etc.
+
+Or compare _The Lay of the Last Minstrel_, I. xii. 5. _seq._ (1812, p.
+24)--
+
+ "And now she sits in secret bower
+ In old Lord David's western tower,
+ And listens to a heavy sound,
+ That moans the mossy turrets round.
+ Is it the roar of Teviot's tide,
+ That chafes against the scaur's red side?
+ Is it the wind that swings the oaks?
+ Is it the echo from the rocks?" etc.
+
+Certain lines of Coleridge's did, no doubt, "find themselves" in the
+_Siege of Corinth_, having found their way to the younger poet's ear and
+fancy before the Lady of the vision was directly and formally introduced
+to his notice.]
+
+[pt] {473}_There sate a lady young and bright_.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[366] [Contemporary critics fell foul of these lines for various
+reasons. The _Critical Review_ (February, 1816, vol. iii. p. 151)
+remarks that "the following couplet [i.e. lines 531, 532] reminds us of
+the _persiflage_ of Lewis or the pathos of a vulgar ballad;" while the
+_Dublin Examiner_ (May, 1816, vol. i. p. 19) directs a double charge
+against the founders of the schism and their proselyte: "If the
+Cumberland _Lakers_ were not well known to be personages of the most
+pious and saintly temperament, we would really have serious
+apprehensions lest our noble Poet should come to any harm in consequence
+of the envy which the two following lines and a great many others
+through the poems, might excite by their successful rivalship of some of
+the finest effects of babyism that these Gentlemen can boast."]
+
+[pu] _He would have made it_----.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[pv] _She who would_----.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[pw] {474} _The ocean spread before their view_.--[Copy.]
+
+[367] ["And its _thrilling_ glance, etc."--Gifford.]
+
+[368] [Warton (_Observations en the Fairy Queen_, 1807, ii. 131),
+commenting on Spenser's famous description of "Una and the Lion" (_Faëry
+Queene_, Book I. canto iii. stanzas 5, 6, 7), quotes the following
+passage from _Seven Champions of Christendom_: "Now, Sabra, I have by
+this sufficiently proved thy true virginitie: for it is the nature of a
+lion, be he never so furious, not to harme the unspotted virgin, but
+humbly to lay his bristled head upon a maiden's lap."
+
+Byron, according to Leigh Hunt (_Lord Byron and some of his
+Contemporaries_, 1828, i. 77), could not "see anything" in Spenser, and
+was not familiar with the _Fairy Queen_; but he may have had in mind
+Scott's allusion to Spenser's Una--
+
+ "Harpers have sung and poets told
+ That he, in fury uncontrolled,
+ The shaggy monarch of the wood,
+ Before a virgin, fair and good,
+ Hath pacified his savage mood."
+
+ _Marmion_, Canto II. stanza vii. line 3, _seq_.
+
+(See Kölbing's note to _Siege of Corinth_, 1893, pp. 110-112.)]
+
+[px] {476}
+ _She laid her fingers on his hand_,
+ _Its coldness thrilled through every bone_.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[py] _As he looked on her face_----.--[MS. G.]
+
+[pz] ----_on her bosom's swell_.--[MS. G. erased. Copy.]
+
+[369] [Compare Shakespeare, _Macbeth_, act v. sc. 1, line 30--
+
+ "You see, her eyes are open,
+ Aye, but their sense is shut."
+
+Compare, too, _Christabel_, Conclusion to Part the First (lines 292,
+293)--
+
+ "With open eyes (ah, woe is me!)
+ Asleep, and dreaming fearfully."]
+
+[qa] {477}
+ _Like a picture, that magic had charmed from its frame_,
+ _Lifeless but life-like, and ever the same_.
+ or, _Like a picture come forth from its canvas and frame_.--
+ [MS. G. erased.]
+
+[qb]
+ _And seen_----.--[MS. G.]
+ ----_its fleecy mail_.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[370] [In the summer of 1803, Byron, then turned fifteen, though offered
+a bed at Annesley, used at first to return every night to Newstead;
+alleging that he was afraid of the family pictures of the Chaworths,
+which he fancied "had taken a grudge to him on account of the duel, and
+would come down from their frames to haunt him." Moore thinks this
+passage may have been suggested by the recollection (_Life_, p. 27).
+Compare _Lara_, Canto I. stanza xi. line 1, _seq_. (_vide ante_, p. 331,
+note 1).]
+
+[371] [Compare Southey's _Roderick_, Canto XXI. (ed. 1838, ix. 195)--
+
+ " ... and till the grave
+ Open, the gate of mercy is not closed."]
+
+[372] {478} I have been told that the idea expressed in this and the
+five following lines has been admired by those whose approbation is
+valuable. I am glad of it; but it is not original--at least not mine; it
+may be found much better expressed in pages 182-3-4 of the English
+version of "Vathek" (I forget the precise page of the French), a work to
+which I have before referred; and never recur to, or read, without a
+renewal of gratification.--[The following is the passage: "'Deluded
+prince!' said the Genius, addressing the Caliph ... 'This moment is the
+last, of grace, allowed thee: ... give back Nouronihar to her father,
+who still retains a few sparks of life: destroy thy tower, with all its
+abominations: drive Carathis from thy councils: be just to thy subjects:
+respect the ministers of the Prophet: compensate for thy impieties by an
+exemplary life; and, instead of squandering thy days in voluptuous
+indulgence, lament thy crimes on the sepulchres of thy ancestors. Thou
+beholdest the clouds that obscure the sun: at the instant he recovers
+his splendour, if thy heart be not changed, the time of mercy assigned
+thee will be past for ever.'"
+
+"Vathek, depressed with fear, was on the point of prostrating himself at
+the feet of the shepherd ... but, his pride prevailing ... he said,
+'Whoever thou art, withhold thy useless admonitions.... If what I have
+done be so criminal ... there remains not for me a moment of grace. I
+have traversed a sea of blood to acquire a power which will make thy
+equals tremble; deem not that I shall retire when in view of the port;
+or that I will relinquish her who is dearer to me than either my life or
+thy mercy. Let the sun appear! let him illumine my career! it matters
+not where it may end!' On uttering these words ... Vathek ... commanded
+that his horses should be forced back to the road.
+
+"There was no difficulty in obeying these orders; for the attraction had
+ceased; the sun shone forth in all his glory, and the shepherd vanished
+with a lamentable scream" (ed. 1786, pp. 183-185).]
+
+[qc] {479} _By rooted and unhallowed pride_.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[373] [Leave out this couplet.--Gifford.]
+
+[374] {480} [Compare--"While the still morn went out with sandals grey."
+_Lycidas_, line 187.]
+
+[375] [Strike out--"And the Noon will look on a sultry day."--Gifford.]
+
+[376] The horsetails, fixed upon a lance, a pacha's standard.
+
+["When the vizir appears in public, three _thoughs_, or horse-tails,
+fastened to a long staff, with a large gold ball at top, is borne before
+him."--_Moeurs des Ottomans_, par A. L. Castellan (Translated, 1821),
+iv. 7.
+
+Compare _Childe Harold_, Canto II., "Albanian War-Song," stanza 10, line
+2; and _Bride of Abydos_, line 714 (_vide ante_, p. 189).]
+
+[377] [Compare--"Send out moe horses, skirr the country round."
+_Macbeth_, act v. sc. 3, line 35.]
+
+[378] [Omit--
+
+ "While your fellows on foot, in a fiery mass,
+ Bloodstain the breach through which they pass."
+
+--Gifford.]
+
+[379] ["And crush the wall they have _shaken_ before."--Gifford.]
+
+[380] [Compare _The Giaour_, line 734 (_vide ante_, p. 120)--"At solemn
+sound of 'Alla Hu!'" And _Don Juan_, Canto VIII. stanza viii.]
+
+[381] ["He who first _downs_ with the red cross may crave," etc. What
+vulgarism is this!--"He who _lowers_,--or _plucks down_,"
+etc.--Gifford.]
+
+[382] [The historian, George Finlay, who met and frequently conversed
+with Byron at Mesalonghi, with a view to illustrating "Lord Byron's
+_Siege of Corinth_," subjoins in a note the full text of "the summons
+sent by the grand vizier, and the answer." (See Finlay's _Greece under
+Othoman and Venetian Domination_, 1856, p. 266, note 1; and, for the
+original authority, see Brue's _Journal de la Campagne_, ... _en_ 1715,
+Paris, 1871, p. 18.)]
+
+[383] {482}
+ ["Thus against the wall they _bent_,
+ Thus the first were backward _sent_."
+
+--Gifford.]
+
+[qd] _With such volley yields like glass_.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[qe] _Like the mowers ridge_----.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[384] ["Such was the fall of the foremost train."--Gifford.]
+
+[385] {483} [Compare _The Deformed Transformed_, Part I. sc. 2 ("Song of
+the Soldiers")--
+
+ "Our shout shall grow gladder,
+ And death only be mute."]
+
+[qf] _I have heard_----.--[MS. G.]
+
+[386] [Compare _Macbeth_, act ii. sc. 2, line 55--
+
+ "If he do bleed,
+ I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal."]
+
+[387] {484} ["There stood a man," etc.--Gifford.]
+
+[388] ["_Lurked_"--a bad word--say "_was hid_."--Gifford.]
+
+[389] ["Outnumbered his hairs," etc.--Gifford.]
+
+[390] ["Sons that were unborn, when _he_ dipped."--Gifford.]
+
+[391] {485} [Bravo!--this is better than King Priam's fifty
+sons.--Gifford.]
+
+[392] In the naval battle at the mouth of the Dardanelles, between the
+Venetians and Turks.
+
+[393] [There can be no such thing; but the whole of this is poor, and
+spun out.--Gifford. The solecism, if such it be, was repeated in _Marino
+Faliero_, act iii. sc. I, line 38.]
+
+[394] [Compare _Childe Harold_, Canto II. stanza xxix. lines 5-8
+(_Poetical Works_, 1899, ii. 125)--
+
+ "Dark Sappho! could not Verse immortal save?...
+ If life eternal may await the lyre."]
+
+[395] ["Hark to the Alia Hu!" etc.--Gifford.]
+
+[396] {486} [Gifford has erased lines 839-847.]
+
+[qg] _Though the life of thy giving would last for ever_.--[MS. G.
+Copy.]
+
+[qh] _Where's Francesca?--my promised bride!_--[MS. G. Copy.]
+
+[qi] {488} Here follows in _MS. G._--
+
+ _Twice and once he roll'd a space_,
+ _Then lead-like lay upon his face_.
+
+[qj] _Sigh, nor sign, nor parting word_.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[397] [The Spanish "renegado" and the Anglicized "renegade" were
+favourite terms of reprobation with politicians and others at the
+beginning of the century. When Southey's _Wat Tyler_ was reprinted in
+1817, William Smith, the Member for Norwich, denounced the Laureate as a
+"renegado," an attack which Coleridge did his best to parry by
+contributing articles to the _Courier_ on "Apostasy and Renegadoism"
+(Letter to Murray, March 26, 1817, _Memoir of John Murray_, 1891, i.
+306). Byron himself, in _Don Juan_ ("Dedication," stanza i. line 5),
+hails Southey as "My Epic Renegade!" Compare, too, stanza xiv. of
+"_Lines addressed to a Noble Lord_ (His Lordship will know why), By one
+of the small Fry of the Lakes" (i.e. Miss Barker, the "Bhow Begum" of
+Southey's _Doctor_)--
+
+ "And our Ponds shall better please thee,
+ Than those now dishonoured seas,
+ With their shores and Cyclades
+ Stocked with Pachas, Seraskiers,
+ Slaves and turbaned Buccaneers;
+ Sensual Mussulmans atrocious,
+ Renegadoes more ferocious," etc.]
+
+[qk] {489} _These in rage, in triumph those_.--[MS. G. Copy erased.]
+
+[ql] _Then again in fury mixing_.--[MS. G.]
+
+[398] ["Dealing _death_ with every blow."--Gifford.]
+
+[399] {490} [Compare _Don Juan_, Canto XIII. stanza lxi. lines 1,
+_seq._--
+
+ "But in a higher niche, alone, but crowned,
+ The Virgin-Mother of the God-born Child,
+ With her Son in her blessed arms, looked round ...
+ But even the faintest relics of a shrine
+ Of any worship wake some thoughts divine."]
+
+[qm]
+ / _chequered_ \
+----_beneath the_ { } _stone_.--[MS. G. erased.]
+ \ _inlaid_ /
+
+[qn] _But now half-blotted_----.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[qo] _But War must make the most of means_.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[400] {492} ["Oh, but it made a glorious show!!!" Gifford erases the
+line, and adds these marks of exclamation.]
+
+[qp] ----_the sacrament wine_.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[qq] _Which the Christians partook at the break of the day_.--[MS. G.
+Copy.]
+
+[401] {493} [Compare _Sardanapalus_, act v. sc. 1 (s.f.)--
+
+ "_Myr._ Art thou ready?
+ _Sard._ As the torch in thy grasp.
+ (_Myrrha fires the pile._)
+ _Myr._ 'Tis fired! I come."]
+
+[402] [A critic in the _Eclectic Review_ (vol. v. N.S., 1816, p. 273),
+commenting on the "obvious carelessness" of these lines, remarks, "We
+know not how 'all that of dead remained' could _expire_ in that wild
+roar." To apply the word "expire" to inanimate objects is, no doubt, an
+archaism, but Byron might have quoted Dryden as an authority, "The
+ponderous ball expires."]
+
+[qr] _The hills as by an earthquake bent_.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[403] {494} [Strike out from "Up to the sky," etc., to "All blackened
+there and reeking lay." Despicable stuff.--Gifford.]
+
+[qs] _Who can see or who shall say?_--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[404] [Lines 1043-1047 are not in the Copy or MS. G., but were included
+in the text of the First Edition.]
+
+[405] [Compare _Don Juan_, Canto II. stanza cii. line 1, _seq._--
+
+ "Famine, despair, cold, thirst, and heat, had done
+ Their work on them by turns, and thinned them to
+ Such things a mother had not known her son
+ Amidst the skeletons of that gaunt crew."
+
+Compare, too, _The Island_, Canto I. section ix. lines 13, 14.]
+
+[qt] {495} _And crashed each mass of stone_.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[qu]
+ _And left their food the unburied dead_.--[Copy.]
+ _And left their food the untasted dead_.--[MS. G.]
+ _And howling left_----.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[406] [Omit the next six lines.--Gifford.]
+
+[407] ["I have heard hyænas and jackalls in the ruins of Asia; and
+bull-frogs in the marshes; besides wolves and angry
+Mussulmans."--_Journal_, November 23, 1813, _Letters_, 1898, ii. 340.]
+
+[qv] _Where Echo rolled in horror still_.--[MS. G.]
+
+[qw] _The frightened jackal's shrill sharp cry_.--[MS. G. erased.]
+
+[408] I believe I have taken a poetical licence to transplant the jackal
+from Asia. In Greece I never saw nor heard these animals; but among the
+ruins of Ephesus I have heard them by hundreds. They haunt ruins, and
+follow armies. [Compare _Childe Harold_, Canto IV. stanza cliii. line 6;
+and _Don Juan_, Canto IX. stanza xxvii. line 2.]
+
+[qx] _Mixed and mournful as the sound_.--[MS. G.]
+
+[409] [Leave out this couplet.--Gifford.]
+
+[410] [With lines 1058-1079, compare Southey's _Roderick_ (Canto XVIII.,
+ed. 1838, ix. 169)--
+
+ "Far and wide the thundering shout,
+ Rolling among reduplicating rocks,
+ Pealed o'er the hills, and up the mountain vales.
+ The wild ass starting in the forest glade
+ Ran to the covert; the affrighted wolf
+ Skulked through the thicket to a closer brake;
+ The sluggish bear, awakened in his den,
+ Roused up and answered with a sullen growl,
+ Low-breathed and long; and at the uproar scared,
+ The brooding eagle from her nest took wing."
+
+A sentence in a letter to Moore, dated January 10, 1815 (_Letters_,
+1899, iii. 168), "_I_ have tried the rascals (i.e. the public) with my
+Harrys and Larrys, Pilgrims and Pirates. Nobody but S....y has done any
+thing worth a slice of bookseller's pudding, and _he_ has not luck
+enough to be found out in doing a good thing," implies that Byron had
+read and admired Southey's _Roderick_--an inference which is curiously
+confirmed by a memorandum in Murray's handwriting: "When Southey's poem,
+_Don Roderick_ (_sic_), was published, Lord Byron sent in the middle of
+the night to ask John Murray if he had heard any opinion of it, for he
+thought it one of the finest poems he had ever read." The resemblance
+between the two passages, which is pointed out by Professor Kölbing, is
+too close to be wholly unconscious, but Byron's expansion of Southey's
+lines hardly amounts to a plagiarism.]
+
+
+
+
+ PARISINA.
+
+
+
+
+ INTRODUCTION TO _PARISINA_.
+
+
+_Parisina_, which had been begun before the _Siege of Corinth_, was
+transcribed by Lady Byron, and sent to the publisher at the beginning of
+December, 1815. Murray confessed that he had been alarmed by some hints
+which Byron had dropped as to the plot of the narrative, but was
+reassured when he traced "the delicate hand that transcribed it." He
+could not say enough of this "Pearl" of great price. "It is very
+interesting, pathetic, beautiful--do you know I would almost say moral"
+(_Memoir of John Murray_, 1891, i. 353). Ward, to whom the MS. of
+_Parisina_ was shown, and Isaac D'Israeli, who heard it read aloud by
+Murray, were enthusiastic as to its merits; and Gifford, who had mingled
+censure with praise in his critical appreciation of the _Siege_,
+declared that the author "had never surpassed _Parisina_."
+
+The last and shortest of the six narrative poems composed and published
+in the four years (the first years of manhood and of fame, the only
+years of manhood passed at home in England) which elapsed between the
+appearance of the first two cantos of _Childe Harold_ and the third,
+_Parisina_ has, perhaps, never yet received its due. At the time of its
+appearance it shared the odium which was provoked by the publication of
+_Fare Thee Well_ and _A Sketch_, and before there was time to reconsider
+the new volume on its own merits, the new canto of _Childe Harold_,
+followed almost immediately by the _Prisoner of Chillon_ and its
+brilliant and noticeable companion poems, usurped the attention of
+friend and foe. Contemporary critics (with the exception of the
+_Monthly_ and _Critical_ Reviews) fell foul of the subject-matter of the
+poem--the guilty passion of a bastard son for his father's wife. "It
+was too disgusting to be rendered pleasing by any display of genius"
+(_European Magazine_); "The story of _Parisina_ includes adultery not to
+be named" (_Literary Panorama_); while the _Eclectic_, on grounds of
+taste rather than of morals, gave judgment that "the subject of the tale
+was purely unpleasing"--"the impression left simply painful."
+
+Byron, no doubt, for better or worse, was in advance of his age, in the
+pursuit of art for art's sake, and in his indifference, not to
+morality--the _dénouement_ of the story is severely moral--but to the
+moral edification of his readers. The tale was chosen because it is a
+tale of love and guilt and woe, and the poet, unconcerned with any other
+issue, sets the tale to an enchanting melody. It does not occur to him
+to condone or to reprobate the loves of Hugo and Parisina, and in
+detailing the issue leaves the actors to their fate. It was this
+aloofness from ethical considerations which perturbed and irritated the
+"canters," as Byron called them--the children and champions of the
+anti-revolution. The modern reader, without being attracted or repelled
+by the _motif_ of the story, will take pleasure in the sustained energy
+and sure beauty of the poetic strain. Byron may have gone to the
+"nakedness of history" for his facts, but he clothed them in singing
+robes of a delicate and shining texture.
+
+
+ to
+
+ SCROPE BERDMORE DAVIES, ESQ.
+
+ the following poem
+
+ Is Inscribed,
+
+ by one who has long admired his talents
+
+ and valued his friendship.
+
+_January_ 22, 1816.
+
+
+
+ ADVERTISEMENT.
+
+The following poem is grounded on a circumstance mentioned in Gibbon's
+"Antiquities of the House of Brunswick." I am aware, that in modern
+times, the delicacy or fastidiousness of the reader may deem such
+subjects unfit for the purposes of poetry. The Greek dramatists, and
+some of the best of our old English writers, were of a different
+opinion: as Alfieri and Schiller have also been, more recently, upon the
+Continent. The following extract will explain the facts on which the
+story is founded. The name of _Azo_ is substituted for Nicholas, as more
+metrical.--[B.]
+
+"Under the reign of Nicholas III. [A.D. 1425] Ferrara was polluted with
+a domestic tragedy. By the testimony of a maid, and his own observation,
+the Marquis of Este discovered the incestuous loves of his wife
+Parisina, and Hugo his bastard son, a beautiful and valiant youth. They
+were beheaded in the castle by the sentence of a father and husband, who
+published his shame, and survived their execution.[411] He was
+unfortunate, if they were guilty: if they were innocent, he was still
+more unfortunate; nor is there any possible situation in which I can
+sincerely approve the last act of the justice of a parent."--Gibbon's
+_Miscellaneous Works_, vol. iii. p. 470.--[Ed. 1837, p. 830.]
+
+
+
+
+ PARISINA.[412]
+
+ I.
+
+ It is the hour when from the boughs[413]
+ The nightingale's high note is heard;
+ It is the hour when lovers' vows
+ Seem sweet in every whispered word;
+ And gentle winds, and waters near,
+ Make music to the lonely ear.
+ Each flower the dews have lightly wet,
+ And in the sky the stars are met,
+ And on the wave is deeper blue,
+ And on the leaf a browner hue, 10
+ And in the heaven that clear obscure,
+ So softly dark, and darkly pure,
+ Which follows the decline of day,
+ As twilight melts beneath the moon away.[414]
+
+ II.
+
+ But it is not to list to the waterfall[qy]
+ That Parisina leaves her hall,
+ And it is not to gaze on the heavenly light
+ That the Lady walks in the shadow of night;
+ And if she sits in Este's bower,
+ 'Tis not for the sake of its full-blown flower; 20
+ She listens--but not for the nightingale--
+ Though her ear expects as soft a tale.
+ There glides a step through the foliage thick,[qz]
+ And her cheek grows pale, and her heart beats quick.
+ There whispers a voice through the rustling leaves,
+ And her blush returns, and her bosom heaves:
+ A moment more--and they shall meet--
+ 'Tis past--her Lover's at her feet.
+
+ III.
+
+ And what unto them is the world beside,
+ With all its change of time and tide? 30
+ Its living things--its earth and sky--
+ Are nothing to their mind and eye.
+ And heedless as the dead are they
+ Of aught around, above, beneath;
+ As if all else had passed away,
+ They only for each other breathe;
+ Their very sighs are full of joy
+ So deep, that did it not decay,
+ That happy madness would destroy
+ The hearts which feel its fiery sway: 40
+ Of guilt, of peril, do they deem
+ In that tumultuous tender dream?
+ Who that have felt that passion's power,
+ Or paused, or feared in such an hour?
+ Or thought how brief such moments last?
+ But yet--they are already past!
+ Alas! we must awake before
+ We know such vision comes no more.
+
+ IV.
+
+ With many a lingering look they leave
+ The spot of guilty gladness past: 50
+ And though they hope, and vow, they grieve,
+ As if that parting were the last.
+ The frequent sigh--the long embrace--
+ The lip that there would cling for ever,
+ While gleams on Parisina's face
+ The Heaven she fears will not forgive her,
+ As if each calmly conscious star
+ Beheld her frailty from afar--
+ The frequent sigh, the long embrace,
+ Yet binds them to their trysting-place. 60
+ But it must come, and they must part
+ In fearful heaviness of heart,
+ With all the deep and shuddering chill
+ Which follows fast the deeds of ill.
+
+ V.
+
+ And Hugo is gone to his lonely bed,
+ To covet there another's bride;
+ But she must lay her conscious head
+ A husband's trusting heart beside.
+ But fevered in her sleep she seems,
+ And red her cheek with troubled dreams, 70
+ And mutters she in her unrest
+ A name she dare not breathe by day,[415]
+ And clasps her Lord unto the breast
+ Which pants for one away:
+ And he to that embrace awakes,
+ And, happy in the thought, mistakes
+ That dreaming sigh, and warm caress,
+ For such as he was wont to bless;
+ And could in very fondness weep
+ O'er her who loves him even in sleep. 80
+
+ VI.
+
+ He clasped her sleeping to his heart,
+ And listened to each broken word:
+ He hears--Why doth Prince Azo start,
+ As if the Archangel's voice he heard?
+ And well he may--a deeper doom
+ Could scarcely thunder o'er his tomb,
+ When he shall wake to sleep no more,
+ And stand the eternal throne before.
+ And well he may--his earthly peace
+ Upon that sound is doomed to cease. 90
+ That sleeping whisper of a name
+ Bespeaks her guilt and Azo's shame.
+ And whose that name? that o'er his pillow
+ Sounds fearful as the breaking billow,
+ Which rolls the plank upon the shore,
+ And dashes on the pointed rock
+ The wretch who sinks to rise no more,--
+ So came upon his soul the shock.
+ And whose that name?--'tis Hugo's,--his--
+ In sooth he had not deemed of this!-- 100
+ 'Tis Hugo's,--he, the child of one
+ He loved--his own all-evil son--
+ The offspring of his wayward youth,
+ When he betrayed Bianca's truth,[ra][416]
+ The maid whose folly could confide
+ In him who made her not his bride.
+
+ VII.
+
+ He plucked his poniard in its sheath,
+ But sheathed it ere the point was bare;
+ Howe'er unworthy now to breathe,
+ He could not slay a thing so fair-- 110
+ At least, not smiling--sleeping--there--
+ Nay, more:--he did not wake her then,
+ But gazed upon her with a glance
+ Which, had she roused her from her trance,
+ Had frozen her sense to sleep again;
+ And o'er his brow the burning lamp
+ Gleamed on the dew-drops big and damp.
+ She spake no more--but still she slumbered--
+ While, in his thought, her days are numbered.
+
+ VIII.
+
+ And with the morn he sought and found, 120
+ In many a tale from those around,
+ The proof of all he feared to know,
+ Their present guilt--his future woe;
+ The long-conniving damsels seek
+ To save themselves, and would transfer
+ The guilt--the shame--the doom--to her:
+ Concealment is no more--they speak
+ All circumstance which may compel
+ Full credence to the tale they tell:
+ And Azo's tortured heart and ear 130
+ Have nothing more to feel or hear.
+
+ IX.
+
+ He was not one who brooked delay:
+ Within the chamber of his state,
+ The Chief of Este's ancient sway
+ Upon his throne of judgement sate;
+ His nobles and his guards are there,--
+ Before him is the sinful pair;
+ Both young,--and _one_ how passing fair!
+ With swordless belt, and fettered hand,
+ Oh, Christ! that thus a son should stand 140
+ Before a father's face!
+ Yet thus must Hugo meet his sire,
+ And hear the sentence of his ire,
+ The tale of his disgrace!
+ And yet he seems not overcome,
+ Although, as yet, his voice be dumb.
+
+ X.
+
+ And still,--and pale--and silently
+ Did Parisina wait her doom;
+ How changed since last her speaking eye
+ Glanced gladness round the glittering room, 150
+ Where high-born men were proud to wait--
+ Where Beauty watched to imitate
+ Her gentle voice--her lovely mien--
+ And gather from her air and gait
+ The graces of its Queen:
+ Then,--had her eye in sorrow wept,
+ A thousand warriors forth had leapt,
+ A thousand swords had sheathless shone,
+ And made her quarrel all their own.[417]
+ Now,--what is she? and what are they? 160
+ Can she command, or these obey?
+ All silent and unheeding now,
+ With downcast eyes and knitting brow,
+ And folded arms, and freezing air,
+ And lips that scarce their scorn forbear,
+ Her knights, her dames, her court--is there:
+ And he--the chosen one, whose lance
+ Had yet been couched before her glance,
+ Who--were his arm a moment free--
+ Had died or gained her liberty; 170
+ The minion of his father's bride,--
+ He, too, is fettered by her side;
+ Nor sees her swoln and full eye swim
+ Less for her own despair than him:
+ Those lids--o'er which the violet vein
+ Wandering, leaves a tender stain,
+ Shining through the smoothest white
+ That e'er did softest kiss invite--
+ Now seemed with hot and livid glow
+ To press, not shade, the orbs below; 180
+ Which glance so heavily, and fill,
+ As tear on tear grows gathering still[rb][418]
+
+ XI.
+
+ And he for her had also wept,
+ But for the eyes that on him gazed:
+ His sorrow, if he felt it, slept;
+ Stern and erect his brow was raised.
+ Whate'er the grief his soul avowed,
+ He would not shrink before the crowd;
+ But yet he dared not look on her;
+ Remembrance of the hours that were-- 190
+ His guilt--his love--his present state--
+ His father's wrath, all good men's hate--
+ His earthly, his eternal fate--
+ And hers,--oh, hers! he dared not throw
+ One look upon that death-like brow!
+ Else had his rising heart betrayed
+ Remorse for all the wreck it made.
+
+ XII.
+
+ And Azo spake:--"But yesterday
+ I gloried in a wife and son;
+ That dream this morning passed away; 200
+ Ere day declines, I shall have none.
+ My life must linger on alone;
+ Well,--let that pass,--there breathes not one
+ Who would not do as I have done:
+ Those ties are broken--not by me;
+ Let that too pass;--the doom's prepared!
+ Hugo, the priest awaits on thee,
+ And then--thy crime's reward!
+ Away! address thy prayers to Heaven.
+ Before its evening stars are met, 210
+ Learn if thou there canst be forgiven:
+ Its mercy may absolve thee yet.
+ But here, upon the earth beneath,
+ There is no spot where thou and I
+ Together for an hour could breathe:
+ Farewell! I will not see thee die--
+ But thou, frail thing! shall view his head--
+ Away! I cannot speak the rest:
+ Go! woman of the wanton breast;
+ Not I, but thou his blood dost shed: 220
+ Go! if that sight thou canst outlive,
+ And joy thee in the life I give."
+
+ XIII.
+
+ And here stern Azo hid his face--
+ For on his brow the swelling vein
+ Throbbed as if back upon his brain
+ The hot blood ebbed and flowed again;
+ And therefore bowed he for a space,
+ And passed his shaking hand along
+ His eye, to veil it from the throng;
+ While Hugo raised his chainéd hands, 230
+ And for a brief delay demands
+ His father's ear: the silent sire
+ Forbids not what his words require.
+ "It is not that I dread the death--
+ For thou hast seen me by thy side
+ All redly through the battle ride,
+ And that--not once a useless brand--
+ Thy slaves have wrested from my hand
+ Hath shed more blood in cause of thine,
+ Than e'er can stain the axe of mine:[419] 240
+ Thou gav'st, and may'st resume my breath,
+ A gift for which I thank thee not;
+ Nor are my mother's wrongs forgot,
+ Her slighted love and ruined name,
+ Her offspring's heritage of shame;
+ But she is in the grave, where he,
+ Her son--thy rival--soon shall be.
+ Her broken heart--my severed head--
+ Shall witness for thee from the dead
+ How trusty and how tender were 250
+ Thy youthful love--paternal care.
+ 'Tis true that I have done thee wrong--
+ But wrong for wrong:--this,--deemed thy bride,
+ The other victim of thy pride,--
+ Thou know'st for me was destined long;
+ Thou saw'st, and coveted'st her charms;
+ And with thy very crime--my birth,--
+ Thou taunted'st me--as little worth;
+ A match ignoble for her arms;
+ Because, forsooth, I could not claim 260
+ The lawful heirship of thy name,
+ Nor sit on Este's lineal throne;
+ Yet, were a few short summers mine,
+ My name should more than Este's shine
+ With honours all my own.
+ I had a sword--and have a breast
+ That should have won as haught[420] a crest
+ As ever waved along the line
+ Of all these sovereign sires of thine.
+ Not always knightly spurs are worn 270
+ The brightest by the better born;
+ And mine have lanced my courser's flank
+ Before proud chiefs of princely rank,
+ When charging to the cheering cry
+ Of 'Este and of Victory!'
+ I will not plead the cause of crime,
+ Nor sue thee to redeem from time
+ A few brief hours or days that must
+ At length roll o'er my reckless dust;--
+ Such maddening moments as my past, 280
+ They could not, and they did not, last;--
+ Albeit my birth and name be base,
+ And thy nobility of race
+ Disdained to deck a thing like me--
+ Yet in my lineaments they trace
+ Some features of my father's face,
+ And in my spirit--all of thee.
+ From thee this tamelessness of heart--
+ From thee--nay, wherefore dost thou start?---
+ From thee in all their vigour came 290
+ My arm of strength, my soul of flame--
+ Thou didst not give me life alone,
+ But all that made me more thine own.
+ See what thy guilty love hath done!
+ Repaid thee with too like a son!
+ I am no bastard in my soul,
+ For that, like thine, abhorred control;
+ And for my breath, that hasty boon
+ Thou gav'st and wilt resume so soon,
+ I valued it no more than thou, 300
+ When rose thy casque above thy brow,
+ And we, all side by side, have striven,
+ And o'er the dead our coursers driven:
+ The past is nothing--and at last
+ The future can but be the past;[421]
+ Yet would I that I then had died:
+ For though thou work'dst my mother's ill,
+ And made thy own my destined bride,
+ I feel thou art my father still:
+ And harsh as sounds thy hard decree, 310
+ 'Tis not unjust, although from thee.
+ Begot in sin, to die in shame,
+ My life begun and ends the same:
+ As erred the sire, so erred the son,
+ And thou must punish both in one.
+ My crime seems worst to human view,
+ But God must judge between us too!"[422]
+
+ XIV.
+
+ He ceased--and stood with folded arms,
+ On which the circling fetters sounded;
+ And not an ear but felt as wounded, 320
+ Of all the chiefs that there were ranked,
+ When those dull chains in meeting clanked:
+ Till Parisina's fatal charms[423]
+ Again attracted every eye--
+ Would she thus hear him doomed to die!
+ She stood, I said, all pale and still,
+ The living cause of Hugo's ill:
+ Her eyes unmoved, but full and wide,
+ Not once had turned to either side--
+ Nor once did those sweet eyelids close, 330
+ Or shade the glance o'er which they rose,
+ But round their orbs of deepest blue
+ The circling white dilated grew--
+ And there with glassy gaze she stood
+ As ice were in her curdled blood;
+ But every now and then a tear[424]
+ So large and slowly gathered slid
+ From the long dark fringe of that fair lid,
+ It was a thing to see, not hear![425]
+ And those who saw, it did surprise, 340
+ Such drops could fall from human eyes.
+ To speak she thought--the imperfect note
+ Was choked within her swelling throat,
+ Yet seemed in that low hollow groan
+ Her whole heart gushing in the tone.
+ It ceased--again she thought to speak,
+ Then burst her voice in one long shriek,
+ And to the earth she fell like stone
+ Or statue from its base o'erthrown,
+ More like a thing that ne'er had life,-- 350
+ A monument of Azo's wife,--
+ Than her, that living guilty thing,
+ Whose every passion was a sting,
+ Which urged to guilt, but could not bear
+ That guilt's detection and despair.
+ But yet she lived--and all too soon
+ Recovered from that death-like swoon--
+ But scarce to reason--every sense
+ Had been o'erstrung by pangs intense;
+ And each frail fibre of her brain 360
+ (As bowstrings, when relaxed by rain,
+ The erring arrow launch aside)
+ Sent forth her thoughts all wild and wide--
+ The past a blank, the future black,
+ With glimpses of a dreary track,
+ Like lightning on the desert path,
+ When midnight storms are mustering wrath.
+ She feared--she felt that something ill
+ Lay on her soul, so deep and chill;
+ That there was sin and shame she knew, 370
+ That some one was to die--but who?
+ She had forgotten:--did she breathe?
+ Could this be still the earth beneath,
+ The sky above, and men around;
+ Or were they fiends who now so frowned
+ On one, before whose eyes each eye
+ Till then had smiled in sympathy?
+ All was confused and undefined
+ To her all-jarred and wandering mind;
+ A chaos of wild hopes and fears: 380
+ And now in laughter, now in tears,
+ But madly still in each extreme,
+ She strove with that convulsive dream;
+ For so it seemed on her to break:
+ Oh! vainly must she strive to wake!
+
+ XV.
+
+ The Convent bells are ringing,
+ But mournfully and slow;
+ In the grey square turret swinging,
+ With a deep sound, to and fro.
+ Heavily to the heart they go! 390
+ Hark! the hymn is singing--
+ The song for the dead below,
+ Or the living who shortly shall be so!
+ For a departed being's soul[rc]
+ The death-hymn peals and the hollow bells knoll:[426]
+ He is near his mortal goal;
+ Kneeling at the Friar's knee,
+ Sad to hear, and piteous to see--
+ Kneeling on the bare cold ground.
+ With the block before and the guards around; 400
+ And the headsman with his bare arm ready,
+ That the blow may be both swift and steady,
+ Feels if the axe be sharp and true
+ Since he set its edge anew:[427]
+ While the crowd in a speechless circle gather
+ To see the Son fall by the doom of the Father!
+
+ XVI.
+
+ It is a lovely hour as yet
+ Before the summer sun shall set,
+ Which rose upon that heavy day,
+ And mock'd it with his steadiest ray; 410
+ And his evening beams are shed
+ Full on Hugo's fated head,
+ As his last confession pouring
+ To the monk, his doom deploring
+ In penitential holiness,
+ He bends to hear his accents bless
+ With absolution such as may
+ Wipe our mortal stains away.
+ That high sun on his head did glisten
+ As he there did bow and listen, 420
+ And the rings of chestnut hair
+ Curled half down his neck so bare;
+ But brighter still the beam was thrown
+ Upon the axe which near him shone
+ With a clear and ghastly glitter----
+ Oh! that parting hour was bitter!
+ Even the stern stood chilled with awe:
+ Dark the crime, and just the law--
+ Yet they shuddered as they saw.
+
+ XVII.
+
+ The parting prayers are said and over 430
+ Of that false son, and daring lover!
+ His beads and sins are all recounted,[rd]
+ His hours to their last minute mounted;
+ His mantling cloak before was stripped,
+ His bright brown locks must now be clipped;
+ 'Tis done--all closely are they shorn;
+ The vest which till this moment worn--
+ The scarf which Parisina gave--
+ Must not adorn him to the grave.
+ Even that must now be thrown aside, 440
+ And o'er his eyes the kerchief tied;
+ But no--that last indignity
+ Shall ne'er approach his haughty eye.
+ All feelings seemingly subdued,
+ In deep disdain were half renewed,
+ When headsman's hands prepared to bind
+ Those eyes which would not brook such blind,
+ As if they dared not look on death.
+ "No--yours my forfeit blood and breath;
+ These hands are chained, but let me die 450
+ At least with an unshackled eye--
+ Strike:"--and as the word he said,
+ Upon the block he bowed his head;
+ These the last accents Hugo spoke:
+ "Strike"--and flashing fell the stroke--
+ Rolled the head--and, gushing, sunk
+ Back the stained and heaving trunk,
+ In the dust, which each deep vein
+ Slaked with its ensanguined rain;
+ His eyes and lips a moment quiver, 460
+ Convulsed and quick--then fix for ever.
+
+ He died, as erring man should die,
+ Without display, without parade;
+ Meekly had he bowed and prayed,
+ As not disdaining priestly aid,
+ Nor desperate of all hope on high.
+ And while before the Prior kneeling,
+ His heart was weaned from earthly feeling;
+ His wrathful Sire--his Paramour--
+ What were they in such an hour? 470
+ No more reproach,--no more despair,--
+ No thought but Heaven,--no word but prayer--
+ Save the few which from him broke,
+ When, bared to meet the headsman's stroke,
+ He claimed to die with eyes unbound,
+ His sole adieu to those around.
+
+ XVIII.
+
+ Still as the lips that closed in death,
+ Each gazer's bosom held his breath:
+ But yet, afar, from man to man,
+ A cold electric[428] shiver ran, 480
+ As down the deadly blow descended
+ On him whose life and love thus ended;
+ And, with a hushing sound compressed,
+ A sigh shrunk back on every breast;
+ But no more thrilling noise rose there,[re]
+ Beyond the blow that to the block
+ Pierced through with forced and sullen shock,
+ Save one:--what cleaves the silent air
+ So madly shrill, so passing wild?
+ That, as a mother's o'er her child, 490
+ Done to death by sudden blow,
+ To the sky these accents go,
+ Like a soul's in endless woe.
+ Through Azo's palace-lattice driven,
+ That horrid voice ascends to heaven,
+ And every eye is turned thereon;
+ But sound and sight alike are gone!
+ It was a woman's shriek--and ne'er
+ In madlier accents rose despair;
+ And those who heard it, as it past, 500
+ In mercy wished it were the last.
+
+ XIX.
+
+ Hugo is fallen; and, from that hour,
+ No more in palace, hall, or bower,
+ Was Parisina heard or seen:
+ Her name--as if she ne'er had been--
+ Was banished from each lip and ear,
+ Like words of wantonness or fear;
+ And from Prince Azo's voice, by none
+ Was mention heard of wife or son;
+ No tomb--no memory had they; 510
+ Theirs was unconsecrated clay--
+ At least the Knight's who died that day.
+ But Parisina's fate lies hid
+ Like dust beneath the coffin lid:
+ Whether in convent she abode,
+ And won to heaven her dreary road,
+ By blighted and remorseful years
+ Of scourge, and fast, and sleepless tears;
+ Or if she fell by bowl or steel,
+ For that dark love she dared to feel: 520
+ Or if, upon the moment smote,
+ She died by tortures less remote,
+ Like him she saw upon the block
+ With heart that shared the headsman's shock,
+ In quickened brokenness that came,
+ In pity o'er her shattered frame,
+ None knew--and none can ever know:
+ But whatsoe'er its end below,
+ Her life began and closed in woe!
+
+ XX.
+
+ And Azo found another bride, 530
+ And goodly sons grew by his side;
+ But none so lovely and so brave
+ As him who withered in the grave;[429]
+ Or if they were--on his cold eye
+ Their growth but glanced unheeded by,
+ Or noticed with a smothered sigh.
+ But never tear his cheek descended,
+ And never smile his brow unbended;
+ And o'er that fair broad brow were wrought
+ The intersected lines of thought; 540
+ Those furrows which the burning share
+ Of Sorrow ploughs untimely there;
+ Scars of the lacerating mind
+ Which the Soul's war doth leave behind.[430]
+ He was past all mirth or woe:
+ Nothing more remained below
+ But sleepless nights and heavy days,
+ A mind all dead to scorn or praise,
+ A heart which shunned itself--and yet
+ That would not yield, nor could forget, 550
+ Which, when it least appeared to melt,
+ Intensely thought--intensely felt:
+ The deepest ice which ever froze
+ Can only o'er the surface close;
+ The living stream lies quick below,
+ And flows, and cannot cease to flow.[431]
+ Still was his sealed-up bosom haunted[rf]
+ By thoughts which Nature hath implanted;
+ Too deeply rooted thence to vanish,
+ Howe'er our stifled tears we banish; 560
+ When struggling as they rise to start,
+ We check those waters of the heart,
+ They are not dried--those tears unshed
+ But flow back to the fountain head,
+ And resting in their spring more pure,
+ For ever in its depth endure,
+ Unseen--unwept--but uncongealed,
+ And cherished most where least revealed.
+ With inward starts of feeling left,
+ To throb o'er those of life bereft, 570
+ Without the power to fill again
+ The desert gap which made his pain;
+ Without the hope to meet them where
+ United souls shall gladness share;
+ With all the consciousness that he
+ Had only passed a just decree;[rg]
+ That they had wrought their doom of ill;
+ Yet Azo's age was wretched still.
+ The tainted branches of the tree,
+ If lopped with care, a strength may give, 580
+ By which the rest shall bloom and live
+ All greenly fresh and wildly free:
+ But if the lightning, in its wrath,
+ The waving boughs with fury scathe,
+ The massy trunk the ruin feels,
+ And never more a leaf reveals.
+
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[411] {503} ["Ferrara is much decayed and depopulated; but the castle
+still exists entire; and I saw the court where Parisina and Hugo were
+beheaded, according to the annal of Gibbon."--_Vide_ Advertisement to
+_Lament of Tasso_.]
+
+[412] {505} "This turned out a calamitous year for the people of
+Ferrara, for there occurred a very tragical event in the court of their
+sovereign. Our annals, both printed and in manuscript, with the
+exception of the unpolished and negligent work of Sardi, and one other,
+have given the following relation of it,--from which, however, are
+rejected many details, and especially the narrative of Bandelli, who
+wrote a century afterwards, and who does not accord with the
+contemporary historians.
+
+"By the above-mentioned Stella dell' Assassino, the Marquis, in the year
+1405, had a son called Ugo, a beautiful and ingenuous youth. Parisina
+Malatesta, second wife of Niccolo, like the generality of step-mothers,
+treated him with little kindness, to the infinite regret of the Marquis,
+who regarded him with fond partiality. One day she asked leave of her
+husband to undertake a certain journey, to which he consented, but upon
+condition that Ugo should bear her company; for he hoped by these means
+to induce her, in the end, to lay aside the obstinate aversion which she
+had conceived against him. And indeed his intent was accomplished but
+too well, since, during the journey, she not only divested herself of
+all her hatred, but fell into the opposite extreme. After their return,
+the Marquis had no longer any occasion to renew his former reproofs. It
+happened one day that a servant of the Marquis, named Zoese, or, as some
+call him, Giorgio, passing before the apartments of Parisina, saw going
+out from them one of her chamber-maids, all terrified and in tears.
+Asking the reason, she told him that her mistress, for some slight
+offence, had been beating her; and, giving vent to her rage, she added,
+that she could easily be revenged, if she chose to make known the
+criminal familiarity which subsisted between Parisina and her step-son.
+The servant took note of the words, and related them to his master. He
+was astounded thereat, but, scarcely believing his ears, he assured
+himself of the fact, alas! too clearly, on the 18th of May, by looking
+through a hole made in the ceiling of his wife's chamber. Instantly he
+broke into a furious rage, and arrested both of them, together with
+Aldobrandino Rangoni, of Modena, her gentleman, and also, as some say,
+two of the women of her chamber, as abettors of this sinful act. He
+ordered them to be brought to a hasty trial, desiring the judges to
+pronounce sentence, in the accustomed forms, upon the culprits. This
+sentence was death. Some there were that bestirred themselves in favour
+of the delinquents, and, amongst others, Ugoccion Contrario, who was
+all-powerful with Niccolo, and also his aged and much deserving minister
+Alberto dal Sale. Both of these, their tears flowing down their cheeks,
+and upon their knees, implored him for mercy; adducing whatever reasons
+they could suggest for sparing the offenders, besides those motives of
+honour and decency which might persuade him to conceal from the public
+so scandalous a deed. But his rage made him inflexible, and, on the
+instant, he commanded that the sentence should be put in execution.
+
+"It was, then, in the prisons of the castle, and exactly in those
+frightful dungeons which are seen at this day beneath the chamber called
+the Aurora, at the foot of the Lion's tower, at the top of the street
+Giovecca, that on the night of the 21st of May were beheaded, first,
+Ugo, and afterwards Parisina. Zoese, he that accused her, conducted the
+latter under his arm to the place of punishment. She, all along, fancied
+that she was to be thrown into a pit, and asked at every step, whether
+she was yet come to the spot? She was told that her punishment was the
+axe. She enquired what was become of Ugo, and received for answer, that
+he was already dead; at which, sighing grievously, she exclaimed, 'Now,
+then, I wish not myself to live;' and, being come to the block, she
+stripped herself, with her own hands, of all her ornaments, and,
+wrapping a cloth round her head, submitted to the fatal stroke, which
+terminated the cruel scene. The same was done with Rangoni, who,
+together with the others, according to two calendars in the library of
+St. Francesco, was buried in the cemetery of that convent. Nothing else
+is known respecting the women.
+
+"The Marquis kept watch the whole of that dreadful night, and, as he was
+walking backwards and forwards, enquired of the captain of the castle if
+Ugo was dead yet? who answered him, Yes. He then gave himself up to the
+most desperate lamentations, exclaiming, 'Oh! that I too were dead,
+since I have been hurried on to resolve thus against my own Ugo!' And
+then gnawing with his teeth a cane which he had in his hand, he passed
+the rest of the night in sighs and in tears, calling frequently upon his
+own dear Ugo. On the following day, calling to mind that it would be
+necessary to make public his justification, seeing that the transaction
+could not be kept secret, he ordered the narrative to be drawn out upon
+paper, and sent it to all the courts of Italy.
+
+"On receiving this advice, the Doge of Venice, Francesco Foscari, gave
+orders, but without publishing his reasons, that stop should be put to
+the preparations for a tournament, which, under the auspices of the
+Marquis, and at the expense of the city of Padua, was about to take
+place, in the square of St. Mark, in order to celebrate his advancement
+to the ducal chair.
+
+"The Marquis, in addition to what he had already done, from some
+unaccountable burst of vengeance, commanded that as many of the married
+women as were well known to him to be faithless, like his Parisina,
+should, like her, be beheaded. Amongst others, Barberina, or, as some
+call her, Laodamia Romei, wife of the court judge, underwent this
+sentence, at the usual place of execution; that is to say, in the
+quarter of St. Giacomo, opposite the present fortress, beyond St.
+Paul's. It cannot be told how strange appeared this proceeding in a
+prince, who, considering his own disposition, should, as it seemed, have
+been in such cases most indulgent. Some, however, there were who did not
+fail to commend him." [_Memorie per la Storia di Ferrara_, Raccolte da
+Antonio Frizzi, 1793, iii. 408-410. See, too, _Celebri Famiglie
+Italiane_, by Conte Pompeo Litta, 1832, Fasc. xxvi. Part III. vol. ii.]
+
+[413] {507} [The revise of _Parisina_ is endorsed in Murray's
+handwriting, "Given to me by Lord Byron at his house, Saturday, January
+13, 1816."]
+
+[414] The lines contained in this section were printed as set to music
+some time since, but belonged to the poem where they now appear; the
+greater part of which was composed prior to _Lara_, and other
+compositions since published. [Note to _Siege, etc._, First Edition,
+1816.]
+
+[qy]
+ _Francisca walks in the shadow of night_,
+ _But it is not to gaze on the heavenly light_--
+ _But if she sits in her garden bower_,
+ _'Tis not for the sake of its blowing flower_.--
+ [_Nathan_, 1815, 1829.]
+
+[qz] {508} _There winds a step_----.--[_Nathan_, 1815, 1829.]
+
+[415] {509} [Leigh Hunt, in his _Autobiography_ (1860, p. 252), says, "I
+had the pleasure of supplying my friendly critic, Lord Byron, with a
+point for his _Parisina_ (the incident of the heroine talking in her
+sleep)."
+
+Putting Lady Macbeth out of the question, the situation may be traced to
+a passage in Henry Mackenzie's _Julia de Roubigné_ (1777, ii. 101:
+"Montauban to Segarva," Letter xxxv.):--
+
+ "I was last night abroad at supper; Julia was a-bed before my
+ return. I found her lute lying on the table, and a music-book open
+ by it. I could perceive the marks of tears shed on the paper, and
+ the air was such as might encourage their falling. Sleep, however,
+ had overcome her sadness, and she did not awake when I opened the
+ curtain to look on her. When I had stood some moments, I heard her
+ sigh strongly through her sleep, and presently she muttered some
+ words, I know not of what import. I had sometimes heard her do so
+ before, without regarding it much; but there was something that
+ roused my attention now. I listened; she sighed again, and again
+ spoke a few broken words. At last I heard her plainly pronounce the
+ name Savillon two or three times, and each time it was accompanied
+ with sighs so deep that her heart seemed bursting as it heaved
+ then."]
+
+[ra] {511} ----_Medora's_----.--[Copy erased.]
+
+[416] [Compare _Christabel_, Part II. lines 408, 409--
+
+ "Alas! they had been friends in youth;
+ But whispering tongues can poison truth."]
+
+[417] {513} [Compare the famous eulogy of Marie Antoinette, in Burke's
+_Reflections on the Revolution in France, in a Letter intended to have
+been sent to a Gentleman in Paris_, London, 1790, pp. 112, 113--
+
+ "It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the Queen of
+ France, then the dauphiness, at Versailles.... Little did I dream
+ ... that I should have lived to see such disasters fall upon her in
+ a nation of gallant men, in a nation of men of honour and of
+ cavaliers. I thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from
+ their scabbards to avenge even a look that threatened her with
+ insult."]
+
+[rb] {514} _As tear by tear rose gathering still_.--[Revise.]
+
+[418] [Lines 175-182, which are in Byron's handwriting, were added to
+the Copy.]
+
+[419] {516} [The meaning is plain, but the construction is involved. The
+contrast is between the blood of foes, which Hugo has shed for Azo, and
+Hugo's own blood, which Azo is about to shed on the scaffold. But this
+is one of Byron's incurious infelicities.]
+
+[420] {517} Haught--haughty. "Away, _haught_ man, thou art insulting
+me."--Shakespeare [_Richard II._, act iv. sc. i, line 254--"No lord of
+thine, thou haught insulting man."]
+
+[421] {518} [Lines 304, 305, and lines 310-317 are not in the Copy. They
+were inserted by Byron in the Revise.]
+
+[422] [A writer in the _Critical Review_ (February, 1816, vol. iii. p.
+151) holds this couplet up to derision. "Too" is a weak ending, and,
+orally at least, ambiguous.]
+
+[423] ["I sent for _Marmion_, ... because it occurred to me there might
+be a resemblance between part of _Parisina_ and a similar scene in Canto
+2d. of _Marmion_. I fear there is, though I never thought of it before,
+and could hardly wish to imitate that which is inimitable.... I had
+completed the story on the passage from Gibbon, which, in fact, leads to
+a like scene naturally, without a thought of the kind; but it comes upon
+me not very comfortably."--Letter to Murray, February 3, 1816
+(_Letters_, 1899, iii. 260). The scene in _Marmion_ is the one where
+Constance de Beverley appears before the conclave--
+
+ "Her look composed, and steady eye,
+ Bespoke a matchless constancy;
+ And there she stood so calm and pale,
+ That, but her breathing did not fail,
+ And motion slight of eye and head,
+ And of her bosom, warranted
+ That neither sense nor pulse she lacks,
+ You must have thought a form of wax,
+ Wrought to the very life, was there--
+ So still she was, so pale, so fair."
+ Canto II. stanza xxi. lines 5-14.]
+
+[424] {519} ["I admire the fabrication of the 'big Tear,' which is very
+fine--much larger, by the way, than Shakespeare's."--Letter of John
+Murray to Lord Byron (_Memoir of John Murray_, 1891, i. 354).]
+
+[425] [Compare _Christabel_, Part I. line 253--"A sight to dream of, not
+to tell!"]
+
+[rc] {521} _For a departing beings soul_.--[Copy.]
+
+[426] [For the peculiar use of "knoll" as a verb, compare _Childe
+Harold_, Canto III. stanza xcvi. line 5; and _Werner_, act iii. sc. 3.]
+
+[427] {522} [Lines 401-404, which are in Byron's handwriting, were added
+to the Copy.]
+
+[rd] {523} _His latest beads and sins are counted_.--[Copy.]
+
+[428] {524} [For the use of "electric" as a metaphor, compare
+Coleridge's _Songs of the Pixies_, v. lines 59, 60--
+
+ "The electric flash, that from the melting eye
+ Darts the fond question and the soft reply."]
+
+[re] _But no more thrilling voice rose there_.--[Copy.]
+
+[429] {526} [Here, again, Byron is _super grammaticam_. The comparison
+is between Hugo and "goodly sons," not between Hugo and "bride" in the
+preceding line.]
+
+[430] [Lines 539-544 are not in the Copy, but were inserted in the
+Revise.]
+
+[431] {527} [Lines 551-556 are not in the Copy, but were inserted in the
+Revise.]
+
+[rf] _Ah, still unwelcomely was haunted_.--[Copy.]
+
+[rg] _Had only sealed a just decree_.--[Copy.]
+
+
+
+
+ POEMS OF THE SEPARATION.
+
+
+
+
+ INTRODUCTION TO _POEMS OF THE SEPARATION._
+
+
+The two poems, _Fare Thee Well_ (March 17) and _A Sketch_ (March 29,
+1816), which have hitherto been entitled _Domestic Pieces_, or _Poems on
+His Own Circumstances_, I have ventured to rename _Poems of the
+Separation_. Of secondary importance as poems or works of art, they
+stand out by themselves as marking and helping to make the critical
+epoch in the life and reputation of the poet. It is to be observed that
+there was an interval of twelve days between the date of _Fare Thee
+Well_ and _A Sketch_; that the composition of the latter belongs to a
+later episode in the separation drama; and that for some reasons
+connected with the proceedings between the parties, a pathetic if not
+uncritical resignation had given place to the extremity of
+exasperation--to hatred and fury and revenge. It follows that either
+poem, in respect of composition and of publication, must be judged on
+its own merits. Contemporary critics, while they were all but unanimous
+in holding up _A Sketch_ to unqualified reprobation, were divided with
+regard to the good taste and good faith of _Fare Thee Well_. Moore
+intimates that at first, and, indeed, for some years after the
+separation, he was strongly inclined to condemn the _Fare Thee Well_ as
+a histrionic performance--"a showy effusion of sentiment;" but that on
+reading the account of all the circumstances in Byron's _Memoranda_, he
+was impressed by the reality of the "swell of tender recollections,
+under the influence of which, as he sat one night musing in his study,
+these stanzas were produced--the tears, as he said, falling fast over
+the paper as he wrote them" (_Life_, p. 302).
+
+With whatever purpose, or under whatever emotion the lines were written,
+Byron did not keep them to himself. They were shown to Murray, and
+copies were sent to "the initiated." "I have just received," writes
+Murray, "the enclosed letter from Mrs. Maria Graham [1785-1842, _née_
+Dundas, authoress and traveller, afterwards Lady Callcott], to whom I
+had sent the verses. It will show you that you are thought of in the
+remotest corners, and furnishes me with an excuse for repeating that I
+shall not forget you. God bless your Lordship. Fare _Thee_ Well" [MSS.
+M.].
+
+But it does not appear that they were printed in their final shape (the
+proof of a first draft, consisting of thirteen stanzas, is dated March
+18, 1816) till the second copy of verses were set up in type with a view
+to private distribution (see _Letters_, 1899, iii. 279). Even then there
+was no thought of publication on the part of Byron or of Murray, and, as
+a matter of fact, though _Fare Thee Well_ was included in the "Poems" of
+1816, it was not till both poems had appeared in over twenty pirated
+editions that _A Sketch_ was allowed to appear in vol. iii. of the
+Collected Works of 1819. Unquestionably Byron intended that the
+"initiated," whether foes or sympathizers, should know that he had not
+taken his dismissal in silence; but it is far from certain that he
+connived at the appearance of either copy of verses in the public press.
+It is impossible to acquit him of the charge of appealing to a limited
+circle of specially chosen witnesses and advocates in a matter which lay
+between himself and his wife, but the aggravated offence of rushing into
+print may well be attributed to "the injudicious zeal of a friend," or
+the "malice prepense" of an enemy. If he had hoped that the verses would
+slip into a newspaper, as it were, _malgré lui_, he would surely have
+taken care that the seed fell on good ground under the favouring
+influence of Perry of the _Morning Chronicle_, or Leigh Hunt of the
+_Examiner_. As it turned out, the first paper which possessed or
+ventured to publish a copy of the "domestic pieces" was the _Champion_,
+a Tory paper, then under the editorship of John Scott (1783-1821), a man
+of talent and of probity, but, as Mr. Lang puts it (_Life and Letters_
+of John Gibson Lockhart, 1897, i. 256), "Scotch, and a professed
+moralist." The date of publication was Sunday, April 14, and it is to
+be noted that the _Ode from the French_ ("We do not curse thee,
+Waterloo") had been published in the _Morning Chronicle_ on March 15,
+and that on the preceding Sunday, April 7, the brilliant but unpatriotic
+apostrophe to the _Star of the Legion of Honour_ had appeared in the
+_Examiner_. "We notice it [this strain of his Lordship's harp]," writes
+the editor, "because we think it would not be doing justice to the
+merits of such political tenets, if they were not coupled with their
+corresponding practice in regard to moral and domestic obligations.
+There is generally a due proportion kept in 'the music of men's lives.'
+... Of many of the _facts_ of this distressing case we are not ignorant;
+but God knows they are not for a newspaper. Fortunately they fall within
+very general knowledge, in London at least; if they had not they would
+never have found their way to us. But there is a respect due to certain
+wrongs and sufferings that would be outraged by uncovering them." It was
+all very mysterious, very terrible; but what wonder that the laureate of
+the ex-emperor, the contemner of the Bourbons, the pæanist of the "star
+of the brave," "the rainbow of the free," should make good his political
+heresy by personal depravity--by unmanly vice, unmanly whining, unmanly
+vituperation?
+
+Wordsworth, to whom Scott forwarded the _Champion_ of April 14, "outdid"
+the journalist in virtuous fury: "Let me say only one word of Lord B.
+The man is insane. The verses on his private affairs excite in me less
+indignation than pity. The latter copy is the Billingsgate of Bedlam.
+... You yourself seem to labour under some delusion as to the merits of
+Lord B.'s poetry, and treat the wretched verses, the _Fare Well_, with
+far too much respect. They are disgusting in sentiment, and in execution
+contemptible. 'Though my many faults deface me,' etc. Can worse doggerel
+than such a stanza be written? One verse is commendable: 'All my madness
+none can know.'" The criticism, as criticism, confutes itself, and is
+worth quoting solely because it displays the feeling of a sane and
+honourable man towards a member of the "opposition," who had tripped and
+fallen, and now lay within reach of his lash (see _Life of William
+Wordsworth_, 1889, ii. 267, etc.).
+
+It was not only, as Macaulay put it, that Byron was "singled out as an
+expiatory sacrifice" by the British public in a periodical fit of
+morality, but, as the extent and the limitations of the attack reveal,
+occasion was taken by political adversaries to inflict punishment for an
+outrage on popular sentiment.
+
+The _Champion_ had been the first to give tongue, and the other
+journals, on the plea that the mischief was out, one after the other
+took up the cry. On Monday, April 15, the _Sun_ printed _Fare Thee
+Well_, and on Tuesday, April 16, followed with _A Sketch_. On the same
+day the _Morning Chronicle_, protesting that "the poems were not written
+for the public eye, but as having been inserted in a Sunday paper,"
+printed both sets of verses; the _Morning Post_, with an ugly hint that
+"the noble Lord gives us verses, when he dare not give us
+circumstances," restricted itself to _Fare Thee Well_; while the
+_Times_, in a leading paragraph, feigned to regard "the two
+extraordinary copies of verses ... the whining stanzas of _Fare Thee
+Well_, and the low malignity and miserable doggerel of the companion
+_Sketch_," as "an injurious fabrication." On Thursday, the 18th, the
+_Courier_, though declining to insert _A Sketch_, deals temperately and
+sympathetically with the _Fare Thee Well_, and quotes the testimony of a
+"fair correspondent" (? Madame de Staël), that if "her husband had bade
+her such a farewell she could not have avoided running into his arms,
+and being reconciled immediately--'Je n'aurois pu m'y tenir un
+instant';" and on the same day the _Times_, having learnt to its
+"extreme astonishment and regret," that both poems were indeed Lord
+Byron's, maintained that the noble author had "degraded literature, and
+abused the privileges of rank, by converting them into weapons of
+vengeance against an inferior and a female." On Friday, the 19th, the
+_Star_ printed both poems, and the _Morning Post_ inserted a criticism,
+which had already appeared in the _Courier_ of the preceding day. On
+Saturday, the 20th, the _Courier_ found itself compelled, in the
+interests of its readers, to print both poems. On Sunday, the 21st, the
+octave of the original issue, the _Examiner_ devoted a long article to
+an apology for Byron, and a fierce rejoinder to the _Champion_; and on
+the same day the _Independent Whig_ and the _Sunday News_, which
+favoured the "opposition," printed both poems, with prefatory notices
+more or less favourable to the writer; whereas the Tory _Antigallican
+Monitor_, which also printed both poems, added the significant remark
+that "if everything said of Lord Byron be true, it would appear that the
+Whigs were not altogether so immaculate as they themselves would wish
+the world to suppose."
+
+The testimony of the press is instructive from two points of view. In
+the first place, it tends to show that the controversy was conducted on
+party lines; and, secondly, that the editor of the _Champion_ was in
+some degree responsible for the wide diffusion and lasting publicity of
+the scandal. The separation of Lord and Lady Byron must, in any case,
+have been more than a nine days' wonder, but if the circulation of the
+"pamphlet" had been strictly confined to the "initiated," the excitement
+and interest of the general public would have smouldered and died out
+for lack of material.
+
+In his second letter on Bowles, dated March 25, 1821 (_Observations upon
+Observations_, _Life_, 1892, p. 705), Byron alludes to the publication
+of these poems in the _Champion_, and comments on the behaviour of the
+editor, who had recently (February 16, 1821) been killed in a duel. He
+does not minimize the wrong, but he pays a fine and generous tribute to
+the courage and worth of his assailant. "Poor Scott is now no more ...he
+died like a brave man, and he lived an able one," etc. It may be added
+that Byron was an anonymous subscriber to a fund raised by Sir James
+Mackintosh, Murray, and others, for "the helpless family of a man of
+virtue and ability" (_London Magazine_, April, 1821, vol. iii. p. 359).
+
+For chronological reasons, and in accordance with the precedent of the
+edition of 1832, a third poem, _Stanzas to Augusta_, has been included
+in this group.
+
+
+
+
+ POEMS OF THE SEPARATION
+
+
+
+ FARE THEE WELL.[432]
+
+ "Alas! they had been friends in youth;
+ But whispering tongues can poison truth:
+ And Constancy lives in realms above;
+ And Life is thorny; and youth is vain:
+ And to be wroth with one we love,
+ Doth work like madness in the brain;
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ But never either found another
+ To free the hollow heart from paining--
+ They stood aloof, the scars remaining,
+ Like cliffs which had been rent asunder;
+ A dreary sea now flows between,
+ But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder,
+ Shall wholly do away, I ween,
+ The marks of that which once hath been."
+ Coleridge's Christabel.[rh]
+
+ Fare thee well! and if for ever,
+ Still for ever, fare _thee well:_
+ Even though unforgiving, never
+ 'Gainst thee shall my heart rebel.
+ Would that breast were bared before thee[ri]
+ Where thy head so oft hath lain,
+ While that placid sleep came o'er thee[rj]
+ Which thou ne'er canst know again:
+ Would that breast, by thee glanced over,
+ Every inmost thought could show!
+ Then thou would'st at last discover
+ 'Twas not well to spurn it so.
+ Though the world for this commend thee--[433]
+ Though it smile upon the blow,
+ Even its praises must offend thee,
+ Founded on another's woe:
+ Though my many faults defaced me,
+ Could no other arm be found,
+ Than the one which once embraced me,
+ To inflict a cureless wound?
+ Yet, oh yet, thyself deceive not--
+ Love may sink by slow decay,
+ But by sudden wrench, believe not
+ Hearts can thus be torn away:
+ Still thine own its life retaineth--
+ Still must mine, though bleeding, beat;[rk]
+ And the undying thought which paineth[rl]
+ Is--that we no more may meet.
+ These are words of deeper sorrow[rm]
+ Than the wail above the dead;
+ Both shall live--but every morrow[rn]
+ Wake us from a widowed bed.
+ And when thou would'st solace gather--
+ When our child's first accents flow--
+ Wilt thou teach her to say "Father!"
+ Though his care she must forego?
+ When her little hands shall press thee--
+ When her lip to thine is pressed--
+ Think of him whose prayer shall bless thee--
+ Think of him thy love _had_ blessed!
+ Should her lineaments resemble
+ Those thou never more may'st see,
+ Then thy heart will softly tremble[ro]
+ With a pulse yet true to me.
+ All my faults perchance thou knowest--
+ All my madness--none can know;[rp]
+ All my hopes--where'er thou goest--
+ Wither--yet with _thee_ they go.
+ Every feeling hath been shaken;
+ Pride--which not a world could bow--[rq]
+ Bows to thee--by thee forsaken,[rr]
+ Even my soul forsakes me now.
+ But 'tis done--all words are idle--
+ Words from me are vainer still;[rs]
+ But the thoughts we cannot bridle
+ Force their way without the will.
+ Fare thee well! thus disunited--[rt]
+ Torn from every nearer tie--
+ Seared in heart--and lone--and blighted--
+ More than this I scarce can die.
+
+ [First draft, _March_ 18, 1816.
+ First printed as published, April 4, 1816.]
+
+
+
+ A SKETCH.[ru][434]
+
+ "Honest--honest Iago!
+ If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee."
+ Shakespeare.
+
+ Born in the garret, in the kitchen bred,
+ Promoted thence to deck her mistress' head;[rv]
+ Next--for some gracious service unexpressed,
+ And from its wages only to be guessed--
+ Raised from the toilet to the table,--where
+ Her wondering betters wait behind her chair.
+ With eye unmoved, and forehead unabashed,
+ She dines from off the plate she lately washed.
+ Quick with the tale, and ready with the lie,
+ The genial confidante, and general spy-- 10
+ Who could, ye gods! her next employment guess--
+ An only infant's earliest governess![rw]
+ She taught the child to read, and taught so well,
+ That she herself, by teaching, learned to spell.
+ An adept next in penmanship she grows,
+ As many a nameless slander deftly shows:
+ What she had made the pupil of her art,
+ None know--but that high Soul secured the heart,[rx]
+ And panted for the truth it could not hear,
+ With longing breast and undeluded ear. 20
+ Foiled was perversion by that youthful mind,[ry]
+ Which Flattery fooled not, Baseness could not blind,
+ Deceit infect not, near Contagion soil,
+ Indulgence weaken, nor Example spoil,[rz]
+ Nor mastered Science tempt her to look down
+ On humbler talents with a pitying frown,
+ Nor Genius swell, nor Beauty render vain,
+ Nor Envy ruffle to retaliate pain,[sa]
+ Nor Fortune change, Pride raise, nor Passion bow,
+ Nor Virtue teach austerity--till now. 30
+ Serenely purest of her sex that live,[sb]
+ But wanting one sweet weakness--to forgive;
+ Too shocked at faults her soul can never know,
+ She deems that all could be like her below:
+ Foe to all vice, yet hardly Virtue's friend,
+ For Virtue pardons those she would amend.
+
+ But to the theme, now laid aside too long,
+ The baleful burthen of this honest song,[sc]
+ Though all her former functions are no more,
+ She rules the circle which she served before. 40
+ If mothers--none know why--before her quake;
+ If daughters dread her for the mothers' sake;
+ If early habits--those false links, which bind
+ At times the loftiest to the meanest mind--[sd]
+ Have given her power too deeply to instil
+ The angry essence of her deadly will;[se]
+ If like a snake she steal within your walls,
+ Till the black slime betray her as she crawls;
+ If like a viper to the heart she wind,
+ And leave the venom there she did not find; 50
+ What marvel that this hag of hatred works[sf]
+ Eternal evil latent as she lurks,
+ To make a Pandemonium where she dwells,
+ And reign the Hecate of domestic hells?
+ Skilled by a touch to deepen Scandal's tints
+ With all the kind mendacity of hints,
+ While mingling truth with falsehood--sneers with smiles--
+ A thread of candour with a web of wiles;[sg]
+ A plain blunt show of briefly-spoken seeming,
+ To hide her bloodless heart's soul-hardened scheming; 60
+ A lip of lies; a face formed to conceal,
+ And, without feeling, mock at all who feel:
+ With a vile mask the Gorgon would disown,--
+ A cheek of parchment, and an eye of stone.[sh]
+ Mark, how the channels of her yellow blood
+ Ooze to her skin, and stagnate there to mud,
+ Cased like the centipede in saffron mail,
+ Or darker greenness of the scorpion's scale--[si]
+ (For drawn from reptiles only may we trace
+ Congenial colours in that soul or face)-- 70
+ Look on her features! and behold her mind[sj]
+ As in a mirror of itself defined:
+ Look on the picture! deem it not o'ercharged--
+ There is no trait which might not be enlarged:
+ Yet true to "Nature's journeymen,"[435] who made
+ This monster when their mistress left off trade--
+ This female dog-star of her little sky,
+ Where all beneath her influence droop or die.[sk]
+
+ Oh! wretch without a tear--without a thought,
+ Save joy above the ruin thou hast wrought-- 80
+ The time shall come, nor long remote, when thou
+ Shalt feel far more than thou inflictest now;
+ Feel for thy vile self-loving self in vain,
+ And turn thee howling in unpitied pain.
+ May the strong curse of crushed affections light[436]
+ Back on thy bosom with reflected blight!
+ And make thee in thy leprosy of mind
+ As loathsome to thyself as to mankind!
+ Till all thy self-thoughts curdle into hate,
+ Black--as thy will or others would create: 90
+ Till thy hard heart be calcined into dust,
+ And thy soul welter in its hideous crust.
+ Oh, may thy grave be sleepless as the bed,
+ The widowed couch of fire, that thou hast spread!
+ Then, when thou fain wouldst weary Heaven with prayer,
+ Look on thine earthly victims--and despair!
+ Down to the dust!--and, as thou rott'st away,
+ Even worms shall perish on thy poisonous clay.[sl]
+ But for the love I bore, and still must bear,
+ To her thy malice from all ties would tear-- 100
+ Thy name--thy human name--to every eye
+ The climax of all scorn should hang on high,
+ Exalted o'er thy less abhorred compeers--
+ And festering[437] in the infamy of years.[sm]
+
+ [First draft, _March_ 29, 1816.
+ First printed as published, April 4, 1816.]
+
+
+
+ STANZAS TO AUGUSTA.[438]
+
+ When all around grew drear and dark,[sn]
+ And reason half withheld her ray--
+ And Hope but shed a dying spark
+ Which more misled my lonely way;
+ In that deep midnight of the mind,
+ And that internal strife of heart,
+ When dreading to be deemed too kind,
+ The weak despair--the cold depart;
+ When Fortune changed--and Love fled far,[so]
+ And Hatred's shafts flew thick and fast,
+ Thou wert the solitary star[sp]
+ Which rose and set not to the last.[sq]
+ Oh! blest be thine unbroken light!
+ That watched me as a Seraph's eye,
+ And stood between me and the night,
+ For ever shining sweetly nigh.
+ And when the cloud upon us came,[sr]
+ Which strove to blacken o'er thy ray--[ss]
+ Then purer spread its gentle flame,[st]
+ And dashed the darkness all away.
+ Still may thy Spirit dwell on mine,[su]
+ And teach it what to brave or brook--
+ There's more in one soft word of thine
+ Than in the world's defied rebuke.
+ Thou stood'st, as stands a lovely tree,[sv]
+ That still unbroke, though gently bent,
+ Still waves with fond fidelity
+ Its boughs above a monument.
+ The winds might rend--the skies might pour,
+ But there thou wert--and still wouldst be
+ Devoted in the stormiest hour
+ To shed thy weeping leaves o'er me.
+ But thou and thine shall know no blight,
+ Whatever fate on me may fall;
+ For Heaven in sunshine will requite
+ The kind--and thee the most of all.
+ Then let the ties of baffled love
+ Be broken--thine will never break;
+ Thy heart can feel--but will not move;
+ Thy soul, though soft, will never shake.
+ And these, when all was lost beside,
+ Were found and still are fixed in thee:--
+ And bearing still a breast so tried,
+ Earth is no desert--ev'n to me.
+
+ [First published, _Poems_, 1816.]
+
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[432] {537} ["He there (Byron, in his _Memoranda_) described, and in a
+manner whose sincerity there was no doubting, the swell of tender
+recollections, under the influence of which, as he sat one night musing
+in the study, these stanzas were produced,--the tears, as he said,
+falling fast over the paper as he wrote them."--_Life_, p. 302.
+
+It must have been a fair and _complete_ copy that Moore saw (see _Life_,
+p. 302, note 3). There are no tear-marks on this (the first draft, sold
+at Sotheby's, April 11, 1885) draft, which must be the _first_, for it
+is incomplete, and every line (almost) tortured with alterations.
+
+"Fare Thee Well!" was printed in Leigh Hunt's _Examiner_, April 21,
+1816, at the end of an article (by L. H.) entitled "Distressing
+Circumstances in High Life." The text there has two readings different
+from that of the pamphlet, viz.--
+
+ _Examiner:_ "Than the soft one which embraced me."
+ Pamphlet: "Than the one which once embraced me."
+ _Examiner:_ "Yet the thoughts we cannot bridle."
+ Pamphlet: "But," etc.
+
+--_MS. Notes taken by the late J. Dykes Campbell at Sotheby's, April 18,
+1890, and re-transcribed for Mr. Murray, June 15, 1894._
+
+A final proof, dated April 7, 1816, was endorsed by Murray, "Correct 50
+copies as early as you can to-morrow."]
+
+[rh] The motto was prefixed in _Poems_, 1816.
+
+[ri] {538} _Thou my breast laid bare before thee_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[rj] _Not a thought is pondering on thee_.--[MS, erased.]
+
+[433] [Lines 13-20 do not appear in an early copy dated March 18, 1816.
+They were added on the margin of a proof dated April 4, 1816.]
+
+[rk] {539} Net result of many alterations.
+
+[rl] _And the lasting thought_----.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[rm] ----_of deadlier sorrow_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[rn] _Every future night and morrow_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[ro] _Still thy heart_----.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[rp] _All my follies_----.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[rq] ----_which not the world could bow_.--[MS.]
+
+[rr] _Falls at once_----.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[rs] {540} _Tears and sighs are idler still_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[rt] _Fare thee well--thus lone and blighted_.--[MS. erased.]
+
+[ru] _A Sketch from Life._--[MS. M.]
+
+[434] ["I send you my last night's dream, and request to have 50 copies
+(for private distribution) struck off. I wish Mr. Gifford to look at
+them; they are from life."--Letter to Murray, March 30, 1816.
+
+"The original MS. of Lord Byron's Satire, 'A Sketch from Private Life,'
+written by his Lordship, 30th March, 1816. Given by his Lordship to me
+on going abroad after his separation from Lady Byron, John Hanson. To be
+carefully preserved." (This MS. omits lines 19-20, 35-36, 55-56, 65-70,
+77-78, 85-92.)
+
+A copy entitled, "A sketch from private Life," dated March 30, 1816, is
+in Mrs. Leigh's handwriting. The corrections and additions are in
+Byron's handwriting.
+
+A proof dated April 2, 1816, is endorsed by Murray, "Correct with most
+particular care and print off 50 copies, and keep standing."]
+
+[rv] _Promoted thence to comb_----[MS. M. erased.]
+
+[rw] ----_early governess_.--[MS. M.]
+
+[rx] ----_but that pure spirit saved her heart_.--[MS. M. erased.]
+
+[ry] _Vain was each effort_----.--[MS. M.]
+
+[rz]
+ _Much Learning madden--when with scarce a peer_
+ _She soared through science with a bright career_--
+ _Nor talents swell_----.--[MS. M.]
+
+[sa] ----_bigotry prevoke_.--[MS. M. erased.]
+
+[sb] _Serenely purest of the things that live_.--[MS. M.]
+
+[sc] {542} _The trusty burthen of my honest song_.--[MS. M.]
+
+[sd] _At times the highest_----.--[MS. M.]
+
+[se] ----_of her evil will_.--[MS. M.]
+
+[sf]
+ _What marvel that this mistress demon works_
+ / _wheresoe'er she lurks_.--[MS. M.]
+ _Eternal evil_ {
+ \ _when she latent works_.--[Copy.]
+
+[sg] _A gloss of candour of a web of wiles_.--[MS. M.]
+
+[sh] {543} Lines 65-68 were added April 2, 1816.
+
+[si] The parenthesis was added April 2, 1816.
+
+[sj] _Look on her body_----.--[MS. M.]
+
+[435] [See _Hamlet_, act iii. sc. 2, line 31.]
+
+[sk] _Where all that gaze upon her droop or die_.--[MS. altered April 2,
+1816.]
+
+[436] Lines 85-91 were added April 2, 1816, on a page endorsed,
+"Quick--quick--quick--quick."
+
+[sl] {544} ----_in thy poisoned clay_.--[MS. M. erased.]
+
+[437] ["I doubt about 'weltering' but the dictionary should decide--look
+at it. We say 'weltering in blood'--but do they not also use 'weltering
+in the wind' 'weltering on a gibbet'?--there is no dictionary, so look
+or ask. In the meantime, I have put 'festering,' which perhaps in any
+case is the best word of the two.--P.S. Be quick. Shakespeare has it
+often and I do not think it too strong for the figure in this
+thing."--Letter to Murray, April 2.]
+
+[sm] _And weltering in the infamy of years_.--[MS. M.]
+
+[438] [His sister, the Honourable Mrs. Leigh.--These stanzas--the
+parting tribute to her whose tenderness had been his sole consolation in
+the crisis of domestic misery--were, we believe, the last verses written
+by Lord Byron in England. In a note to Mr. Rogers, dated April 16
+[1816], he says, "My sister is now with me, and leaves town to-morrow;
+we shall not meet again for some time at all events--_if ever!_ and
+under these circumstances I trust to stand excused to you and Mr.
+Sheridan, for being unable to wait upon him this evening."--Note to
+Edition of 1832, x. 193.
+
+A fair copy, broken up into stanzas, is endorsed by Murray, "Given to me
+(and I believe composed by Ld. B.), Friday, April 12, 1816."]
+
+[sn] ----_grew waste and dark_.--[MS. M.]
+
+[so] {545} _When Friendship shook_----.--[MS. M.]
+
+[sp] _Thine was the solitary star_.--[MS. M.]
+
+[sq] _Which rose above me to the last_.--[MS. M.]
+
+[sr]
+ _And when the cloud between us came_.--[MS. M.]
+ _And when the cloud upon me came_.--[Copy C. H.]
+
+[ss] _Which would have closed on that last ray_.--[MS. M.]
+
+[st] _Then stiller stood the gentle Flame_.--[MS. M.]
+
+[su] _Still may thy Spirit sit on mine_.--[MS. M.]
+
+[sv] {546}
+ _And thou wast as a lovely Tree_
+ _Whose branch unbroke but gently bent_
+ _Still waved with fond Fidelity_.--[Copy C. H.]
+
+
+
+ END OF VOL. III.
+
+ LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED,
+ STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Works Of Lord Byron, Vol. 3 (of 7), by
+Lord Byron
+
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