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Still to the last it rankles, a disease
And, sunk albeit in thought as he was wont,
To teach man what he might be, or be ought;
Birds, beasts of prey, and wilder men appear,
XLIIT. Dear nature is the kindest mother sull,
Now Harold felt himself at length alone, Though alway changing, in her aspect mild ;
And bade to christian tongues a long adieu ; From her bare bosom let me take my fill,
Now he adventured on a shore unknown, Her never-wean'd, though not ber favour'd child.
Which all admire, but many dread to view; Oh! she is fairest in her features wild,
His breast was arm'd gainst fale, his wants were few; Where nothing polishid dares pollute her path : Peril he sought not, but ne'er shrank to meel, To me by day or night she ever smiled,
The scene was savage, but the scene was new; Though I have mark'd her when none other hath, This made the ceaseless toil of travel sweet, And sought her more and more, and loved her best in Beat back keen winter's blast, and welcomed summer's wrath.
XLIV. Land of Albania! where Iskander rose,
Bere the red cross, for still the cross is here, Theme of the young, and beacon of the wise,
Though sadly scoff d at by the circumcised, And he, his name-sake, whose oft-baftled foes
Forgets that pride to pampered priesthood dear, Shrunk from his deeds of chivalrous emprize : Churchiman and votary alike despised. Land of Albania!" let me bend mine eyes
Foul superstition ! howsoe'er disguised, On thee, thou rugged nurse of savage men!
Idol, saint, virgin, propbet, crescent, cross, The cross descends, thy minarets arise,
For whatsoever symbol thou art prized, And the pale crescent sparkles in the glen,
Thou sacerdotal gain, but general loss! Through many a cypress-grove within each city's ken. Who from true worsbip's gold can separate thy dross ?
XLV. Childe Harold saild, and pass'd the barren spot's Ambracia's gulph behold, where once was lost Where sad Penelope o'erlook'd the wave;
A world for woman, lovely, harmless thing! And onward view'd the mount, not yet forgot,
In yonder rippling bay, their naval host The lover's refuge, and the Lesbian's grave.
Did many a Roma, chief and Asian king 15 Dark Sappho! could not verse immortal save
To doubtful contlict, certain slaughter bring: That breast imbued with such immortal fire ?
Look where the second Cæsar's trophies rose! 16 Could she not live who life eternal gave?
Now, like the hands that reard them, withering : If life eternal may await the lyre,
Imperial anarchs, doubling human woes! That only heaven to which earth's children may aspire. God! was thy globe ordaind for such to win and lose ?
XLVI. 'T was on a Grecian autumn's gentle eve
From the dark barriers of that rugged clime, Childe Harold baild Leucadia's cape afar:
Even to the centre of Illyria's vales, A spot he long'd to see, nor cared to leave :
Childe Harold pass'd o'er many a mount sublime, Oft did he mark the scenes of vanish'd war,
Through lands scarce noticed in historic tales ; Actium, Lepanto, fatal Trafalgar ;13
Yet in famed Attica such lovely dales Mark them uvmoved, for he would not delight Are rarely seen; nor can fair Tempe boast (Born beneath some remote inglorious star)
A charm they know not; loved Parnassus fails, lu themes of bloody fray, or gallant fight,
Though classic ground and consecrated most, But loathed the bravo's trade, and laugh'd at martial to match some spots that lurk within this lowering coast.
LIU. He pass'd bleak Pindus, Acherusia's lake,"7
Oh! where, Dodona! is thine aged grove, And left the primal city of the land,
Prophetic fount, and oracle divine? And onwards did his further journey take
What valley echoed the response of Jove? To greet Albania's chief, 18 whose dread command What trace remaineth of the Thunderer's shrine! Is lawless law; for with a bloody hand
All, all forgotten-and shall man repine He sways a nation, turbulent and bold:
That his frail bonds to tleeting life are broke? Yet here and there some daring mountain-band Cease, fool! the fate of gods may well be thine: Disdain luis power, and from their rocky hold
Wouldst thou survive the marble or the oak? Hurl their defiance far, nor yield, unless to gold. "9 When nations, tongues, and worlds must sink beneath
the stroke! XLVIII.
LIV. Monastic Zitza ! 30 from thy shady brow,
Epirus' bounds recede, and mountains fail; Thou small, but favour'd spot of holy ground !
Tired of up-gazing still, the wearied eye Where'er we gaze, around, above, below,
Reposes gladly on as smooth a vale What rainbow lints, what magic charms are found!
As ever spring yclad in grassy dye: Rock, river, forest, mountain all abound,
Even on a plain po humble beauties lie, And bluest skies that harmonize the whole:
Where some bold river breaks the long expanse, Beneath, the distant torrent's rushing sound
And woods along the banks are waving high, Tells where the volumed cataract doth roll
Whose shadows in the glassy waters dance, Between those hanging rocks, that shock yet please the Or with the moon-beams sleep in midnight's solemn soul.
LV. Amidst the grove that crowns yon tufted hill,
The sun had sunk behind vast Tomerit, 15 Which, were it not for many a mountain nigh And Laos wide and fierce came roaring by; 26 Rising in lofty ranks, and loftier still,
The shades of wonted night were gathering yet, Might well itself be deem'd of dignity,
Wien, down the steep banks winding warily, The convent's white walls glisteu fair on high:
Childe Harold saw, like meteors in the sky, Here dwells ibe caloyer, 21 nor rude is he,
The glittering minarets of Tepalen, Nor niggard of his cheer; the passer by
Whose walls o'erlook the stream; and drawing nigh, Is welcome still; nor heedless will he flee
He lieard the busy hum of warrior-men From bence, if he delight kind nature's sheep to see.
Swelling the breeze that sigh'd along the length'ning glen.
Then let his length the loitering pilgrim lay,
Within, a palace, and without, a fort:
LVII. Dusky and huge, enlarging on the sight,
Richly caparison'd, a ready row Nature's volcanic amphitheatre, 12
Of armed horse, and many a warlike store Chimera's Alps extend from left to right:
Circled the wide-extending court below: Beneath, a living valley seems to stir;
Above, strange groups adorn'd the corridor; Flocks play, trees wave, streams tlow, the mountain fir And oft-times through the Area's echoing door Nodding above: behold black Acheron! 23
Some high-capp'd Tartar spurr'd his steed away: Once consecrated to the sepulchre.
The Turk, the Greek, the Albanian, and the Moor, Pluto! if this be hell I look upon,
Here mingled in their many-hued array, Close sbamed Elysium's gates, my shade shall seek for While the deep war-drum's sound announced the close pone! LII.
LVIII. Ne city's towers pollute the lovely view;
The wild Albanian kirtled to his knee, Unseen is Yanina, though not remote,
With shawl-girt bead and ornamented gun, Veild by the screen of hills! bere men are few, And gold-embroider'd garments, fair to see; Scanty the hamlet, rare the lovely cot;
The crimson-scarfed men of Macedon;
The Delhi with leis cap of terror on,
And swarthy Nubia's mutilized son,
The bearded Turk, that rarely deigos to speak, Or in bis cave awaits the tempest's short-lived shock. Master of all around, 100 potent to be meek,
Not virtues, were those virtues more mature.
Where is the foe that ever saw their back : And some that smoke, and some that play, are found; Who can so well the toil of war endure ! Here the Albanian proudly treads the ground; Their native fastnesses not more secure Half whispering there the Greek is heard to prate; Than they in doubtful time of troublous need: Hark! from the mosque the nightly solemn sound, Their wrath how deadly! but their friendship sure, The Muezzin's call doth shake the minaret,
When gratitude or valour bids them bleed, «There is no god but God!—10 prayer-lo !God is great!) Unshaken rushing on where'er their chief may lead.
But from the chambers came the mingling din,
And fellow-countrymen have stood aloof_27
Herself more sweetly rears the babe she bears,
That those who loathe alike the Frank aud Turk
LXVIII. In marble-paved pavilion, where a spring
Vain fear! the Suliotes stretch'd the welcome hand, Of living water from the centre rose,
Led them o'er rocks and past the dangerous swamp, Whose bubbling did a genial freshness fling,
Kinder than polish'd slaves though not so bland, And soft voluptuous couches breathed repose,
And piled the hearth, aud wrung their garments damp, Ali reclined, a man of war and woes;
And fill'd the bowl, and trimm'd the cheerful lamp, Yet in his lineaments ye cannot trace,
And spread their fare ; though homely, all they had: While gentleness ber milder radiance throws
Such conduct bears philanthropy's rare stampAlong that ayed venerable face,
To rest the weary and to soothe the sad, The deeds that lurk beneath, and stain him with disgrace. Doth lesson happicr men, and shames at least the bad.
Blood follows blood, and, through their mortal span,
Till he did greet white Achelous' tide,
But peace abhorreth artificial joys,
Nor did he pass unmoved the gentle scene,
8. On the smooth shore the night-fires brightly blazed, Remember the moment when Previsa fell, 32 The feast was done, the red wine circling fast, 28
The shrieks of the conquer'd, the conquerors' yell; And he that unawares had there ygazed
The roofs that we fired, and the plunder we shared, With gaping wonderment had stared aghast; The wealthy we slaughter'd, the lovely we spared. For ere night's midmost, stillest hour was past, The native revels of the troop began;
9. Each Palikar 29 his sabre from him cast,
I talk not of mercy, I talk not of fear;
A chief ever glorious like Ali Pashaw.
Let the yellow-hair'd' Giaours ? view his horse-tail 3 Jo sooth, it was no vulgar sight to see
with dread; Their barbarous, yet their not indecent, clee, When his Delbis 4 come dashing in blood o'er the banks, Aod, as the flames along their faces gleam'd,
How few shall escape from the Muscovite ranks! Their gestures nimble, dark eyes flashing free,
The long wild locks that to their girdles stream'd,
Tambourgi! thy 'larum gives promise of war.
Shall view us as victors, or view us no more!
Fair Greece! sad relic of departed worth: 33
Who now shall lead thy scatler'd children forth, Oh! who is more brave than a dark Suliote,
And long accustom'd bondage uncreate? lo his soowy camese and his shayey capote?
Not such thy sops who whilome did await, To the wolf and the vulture he leaves his wild flock,
The hopeless warriors of a willing doom, Ånd descends to the plain like the stream from the rock.
In bleak Thermopylæ's sepulchral strait1
Oh! who that gallant spirit shall resume, 3. Shall the sons of Chimari, who never forgive
Leap from Eurotas' banks, and call thee from the tomb! The fault of a friend, bid au enemy live?
Spirit of freedom! when on Phyle's brow #4 1
Thou sat'st with Thrasybulus and his train,
Couldst thou forebode the dismal hour which now 4. Macedonia sends forth her invincible race;
Dims the green beauties of thine Attic plain?
But every carle can lord it o'er thy land;
Nor rise thy sons, but idly rail in vain,
Trembling beneath the scourge of Turkish hand, ! 5.
From birth till death enslaved; in word, in deed unmann'd. Then the pirates of Parga that dwell by the waves, Add teach the pale Franks what it is to be slaves,
LXXV. Shall leave on the bcach the long galley and oar,
In all, save form alone, how changed! and who And track to his covert the captive on shore.
That marks the fire still sparkling in each eye,
Who but would deem their bosoms burn'd anew 6.
With thy unquenched beam, lost liberty? I ask not the pleasures that riches supply,
And many dream withal the hour is nigh My sabre shall win what the feeble must buy;
That gives them back their fathers' heritage: Suall win the young bride with her long-llowing hair, For foreign arms and aid they fondly sigh, dod many a naid from her mother shall tear.
Nor solely dare encounter hostile rage,
Or tear their name defiled from slavery's mournful page. 7. I love the fair face of the maid in her youth, Her caresses shall lull me, her music shall soothe; Let her bring from the chamber her many-toned lyre,
" Yellow is the epithet given to the Russians.
: Inhdels. And sing us a song on the fall of her sire.
s lorse-tails are the insignia of a Pacha.
* Horsemen, answering to our forlorn bope. Drummer.
How do they loathe the laughter idly loud,
But ne'er will freedom seek this fated soil,
Their birth, their blood, and that sublime record
In motley robe to dance at masking ball,
Can man its shatter'd splendour renovate,
Nor oft I've seen such sighi nor heard such song,
So perish monuments of mortal birth,
LXXXVI. Loud was the lightsome tumult of the shore,
Save where some solitary column mourns Oft music changed, but never ceased her tone, Above its prostrate brethren of the cave; And timely echoed back the measured oar,
Save where Tritonia's airy shrine adoras Aud rippling waters made a pleasant moan:
Colonna's cliff, and gleams along the wave;
Save o'er some warrior's half-forgotten grave,
While strangers only not regardless pass,
Let sage or cynic pratile as he will
Still in his beam Mendeli's marbles glare ;