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XXXV.
'T is an old lesson ; time approves it true,
And those who know it best, deplore it most;
When all is won that all desire to woo,
The paltry prize is hardly worth the cost :
Youth wasted, minds degraded, honour lost,
These are thy fruits, successful passion! these !
If, kindly cruel, early hope is crost,

Still to the last it rankles, a disease
Not to be cured when love itself forgets to please.

XLI.
But when he saw the evening star above
Leucadia's far-projecting rock of woe,
And hail'd the last resort of fruitless love,'4
He felt, or deemd he felt, no common glow :
And as the stately vessel glided slow,
Beneath the shadow of that ancient mount,
He watch'd the billows' melancholy flow,

And, sunk albeit in thought as he was wont,
More placid seem'd his eye, and smooth his pallid front.

XXXVI.
Away! nor let me loiter in my song,
For we have many a mountain-path to tread,
And many a varied shore to sail along,
By pensive sadness, not by fiction, led-
Climes, fair withal as ever mortal head
Imagined in its little scbemes of thought;
Or e'er in new Utopias were read,

To teach man what he might be, or be ought;
If that corrupted thing could ever such be caught.

XLII.
Mora dawns; and with it stern Albania's hills,
Dark Suli's rocks, and Pindus' inland peak,
Robed balf in mist, bedew'd with snowy rills,
Array'd in many a dun and purple streak,
Arise; and, as the clouds along them break,
Disclose the dwelling of the mountaineer :
Here roams the wolf, the eagle whets his beak,

Birds, beasts of prey, and wilder men appear,
And gathering storms around convulse the closing year.

XXXVII.

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.

heat. XXXVIII.

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 ?

XXXIX.

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 ?

XL.

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.

wight.

XLVII.

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.

trance. XLIX.

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.

L.
Here in the sultriest season let him rest,
Fresh is the green beneath those aged trees;
Here wiods of gentlest wing will fan his breast,
From heaven itself he may inhale the breeze:
The plain is far beneath-oh! let him seize
Pure pleasure while he can; the scorching ray
Here piereeth not, impregnate with disease :

Then let his length the loitering pilgrim lay,
And gaze, untired, the morn, the noon, the eve away.

LVI.
He pass'd the sacred haram's silent tower,
Avd, underneath the wide o'erarching gate,
Survey'd the dwelling of this chief of power,
Where all around proclaim'd his high estate.
Amidst no common pomp the despot sate,
While busy preparations shook the court,
Slaves, eunuchs, soldiers, guests, and santons wait;

Within, a palace, and without, a fort:
Here men of every clime appear to make resort.

LI.

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;
Bor, peering down each precipice, the goat

The Delhi with leis cap of terror on,
Browseth: and, pensive o'er his scatter'd tlock, And crooked glaive; the lively, supple Greek;
The lule shepherd in his wbile capote 24

And swarthy Nubia's mutilized son,
Doth lean his boyish form aloog the rock,

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,

of day.

LIX.

LXV.
Are mix'd conspicuous: some recline in groups, Fierce are Albania's children, yet they lack
Scanning the motley scene that varies round;

Not virtues, were those virtues more mature.
There some grave Moslem to devotion stoops,

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.

LX.
Just at this season Ramazani's fast
Through the long day its penance did maintain:
But when the lingering twilight hour was past,
Revel and feast assumed the rule again :
Now all was bustle, and the menial train
Prepared and spread the plenteous board within;
The vacant gallery now seem'd made in vain,

But from the chambers came the mingling din,
As page and slave anon were passing out and in.

LXVI.
Childe Harold saw them in their chieftain's tower
Thronging to war in splendour and success;
And after view'd them, when, within their power,
Himself awhile the victim of distress;
That saddening hour when bad men hotlier press :
But these did shelter him beneath their roof,
When less barbarians would have cheer'd him less,

And fellow-countrymen have stood aloof_27
Inaught that tries the heart how few withstand the proof!

LXI.
Here woman's voice is never heard : apart,
And scarce permitted, guarded, veild, to move,
She yields to one her person and her heart,
Tamed to her cage, por feels a wish to rove:
For, not unhappy in her master's love,
And joyful in a mother's gentlest cares,
Blest cares! all other feelings far above!

Herself more sweetly rears the babe she bears,
Who never quits the breast no meaner passion shares.

LXVII.
It chanced that adverse winds once drove his bark
Full on the coast of Suli's shaggy shore,
When all around was desolate and dark;
To land was perilous, to sojourn more;
Yet for a while the mariners forbore,
Dubious to trust where treachery might lurk:
At length they ventured forth, though doubting sore

That those who loathe alike the Frank aud Turk
Might once again renew their ancient butcher-work.

LXII.

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.

LXIII.
Je is not that yon hoary lengthening beard
III suits the passions which belong to youth;
Love conquers age--so Hafiz hath averr'd,
So sings the Teian, and he sings in sooth-
But crimes that scorn the tender voice of Ruth,
Beseeming all men ill, but most the man
In years, have mark'd him with a tiger's tooth;

Blood follows blood, and, through their mortal span,
In bloodier acts conclude those who with blood began.

LXIX.
It came to pass, that when he did address
Himself to quit at length this mountain-land,
Combined marauders half-way barr'd egress,
And wasted far and near with glaive and brand;
And therefore did he take a trusty band
To traverse Acargania's forest wide,
In war well season'd, and with labours tann'd,

Till he did greet white Achelous' tide,
And from his further bank Ætolia's wolds espied.

LXIV.
"Mid many things most new to ear and eye
The pilgrim rested here his weary feet,
And gazed around on Moslem luxury,
Till quickly wearied with that spacious seat
Of wealth and wantouness, the choice retreat
Of sated grandeur from the city's noise :
And were it humbler it in sooth were sweet;

But peace abhorreth artificial joys,
And pleasure, leagued with pomp, the zest of both

destroys.

LXX.
Where lone Utraikey forms its circling cove,
And weary waves retire to gleam at rest,
How brown the foliage of the green hill's grove,
Nodding at midnight o'er the calm bay's breast,
As winds come lightly whispering from the west!
Kissing, not rufling, the blue deep's serene.-
Here Harold was received a welcome quest,

Nor did he pass unmoved the gentle scene,
For'many ajoy could he from night's soft presence glean.

10.

11.

2.

LXXI.

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;
Apd bounding hand in hand, man link'd to man, He neither must know who would serve the vizier:
Yelling their uncouch dirge, long danced the kirtled clan. Since the days of our prophet the crescent ne'er saw

A chief ever glorious like Ali Pashaw.
LXXII.
Childe Harold at a little distance stood
And viewd, but not displeased, the revelrie, Dark Muchtar his son to the Danube is sped,
Nor hated harmless mirth, however rude:

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,
While thus in concert they this lay half suvg, half Selictar! 5 unsheathe then our chief's scimitar:
scream'd: 30

Tambourgi! thy 'larum gives promise of war.
Ye mountains, that see us descend to the shore,

Shall view us as victors, or view us no more!
31 TAXBOURGI? Tambourgi!' thy 'larum afar
Gives bope to the valiant, and promise of war;
All the sons of the mountains arise at the note,

LXXIII.
Chimariot, Illyrian, and dark Suliote!

Fair Greece! sad relic of departed worth: 33
Immortal, though no more; though fallen, great!

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?

LXXIV.
Let those guns so unerring such vengeance forego?
Wbar mark is so fair as the breast of a foe?

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?
For a time they abandon the cave and the chase : Not thirty tyrants now enforce the chain,
Bat those scarfs of blood-red sball be redder, before

But every carle can lord it o'er thy land;
The sabre is sheathed and the battle is o'er.

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.

$ Sword-bearer.

LXXVI.
Hereditary bondsmen! know ye not
Who would be free themselves must strike the blow?
By their right arms the conquest must be wrought?
Will Gaul or Muscovite redress ye? no!
True, they may lay your proud despoilers low,
But not for you will freedom's altars flame.
Shades of the Helois! triumph o'er your

foe!
Greece! change thy lords, thy state is still the same;
Thy glorious day is o'er, but not thine years of shame.

LXXXII.
But, midst the throng in merry masquerade,
Lurk there no hearts that throb with secret pain,
Even through the closest searment half betray'd!
To such the gentle murmurs of the main
Seem to re-echo all they mourn in vain;
To such the gladness of the gamesome crowd.
Is source of wayward thought and steru disdain:

How do they loathe the laughter idly loud,
And long to change the robe of revel for the shroud ?

LXXVII.
The city won for Allah from the Giaour,
The Giaour from Othman's race again may wrest;
And the Serai's impenetrable tower
Receive the fiery Frank, her former guest; 35
Or Wahab's rebel brood, who dared divest
The prophet's tomb of all its pious spoil, 36
May wind their path of blood along the West;

But ne'er will freedom seek this fated soil,
But slave succeed to slave through years of endless toil.

LXXXII.
This must he feel, the true-born son of Greece,
Jf Greece one true-born patriot still can boast :
Not such as prate of war, but skulk in peace,
The bondsman's peace, who sighs for all he lost,
Yet with smooth smile his tyrant can accost,
And wield the slavish sickle, not the sword:
Ab! Greece! they love thee least who owe thee most;

Their birth, their blood, and that sublime record
Of hero sires, who shame thy now degenerate horde!

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LXXVIII.
Yet mark their mirth-ere lenten days begin,
That penance which their holy rites prepare
To shrive from man his weight of mortal sin,
By daily abstinence and niylıtly prayer;
But ere his sackcloth carb repentance wear,
Some days of joyaunce are decreed to all,
To take of pleasa unce each his secret share,

In motley robe to dance at masking ball,
And join the mimic train of merry Carnival.

LXXXIV.
When riseth Lacedemon's hardihood,
When Thebes Epaminondas rears again,
When Athens' children are with hearts endued,
When Grecian mothers shall give birth to men,
Then mayst thou be restored; but not till then.
A thousand years scarce serve to form a state;
An hour may lay it in the dust; and when

Can man its shatter'd splendour renovate,
Recal its virtues back, and vanquish time and fate?

LXXIX
And whose more rife with merriment than thine,
Oli Stamboul! once the empress of their reigo?
Though turbans now pollute Sophia's shrine,
And Greece her very altars eyes in vain :
(Alas! her woes will still pesvade my strain!)
Gay were her minstrels once, for free her throng,
All felt the common joy they now must feign,

Nor oft I've seen such sighi nor heard such song,
As woo'd the eye, and thırill'd the Bosphorus along.

LXXXV.
And yet how lovely in thive age of woe,
Land of lost gods and godlike men, art thou!
Thy vales of ever-green, thy hills of snow 37
Proclaim thee nature's varied favourite now:
Thy fanes, thy temples to thy surface bow,
Commingling slowly with hervic earth,
Broke by the share of every rustic plough:

So perish monuments of mortal birth,
So perish all in turn, save well-recorded worth;

38

LXXX

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;
The queen of rides on high consenting shone,

Save o'er some warrior's half-forgotten grave,
And when a transient breeze swept o'er the wave, Where the grey stones and nomolested grass
'T was, as if darting from her heavenly throne, Ages, but not oblivion, feebly brave,
A brighter glance her form reflected gave,

While strangers only not regardless pass,
Till sparkling billows seem'd to light the banks they lave. Lingering like me, perchance, to gaze, and sigh « Alas!»

LXXXI.
Glanced many a light caique along the foam,
Dauced on the shore the daughters of the land,
Ne thought had man or maid of rest or home,
While many a languid eye and thrilling hand
Exchanged the look few bosoms may withstand,
Or gently prest, return'd the pressure still:
Oh love! young love! bound in thy rosy band,

Let sage or cynic pratile as he will
These hours, and only these redeem life's years of ill!

LXXXVII.
Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild ;
Sweet are thy groves, and verdant are thy fields,
Thine olive ripe as when Minerva smiled,
And soll huis honied wealth Ilymettus yields;
There the blithe bee liis fragrant fortress builds,
The freeborn wanderer of thy mountain-air;
Apollo still thy long, long summer gilds,

Still in his beam Mendeli's marbles glare ;
Art, glory, freedom fail, but nature still is fair.

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