CI.

And thou, my friend! (19) since unavailing woe
Bursts from my heart, and mingles with the strain-
Had the sword laid thee with the mighty low,
Pride might forbid even Friendship to complain;
But thus unlaurel'd to descend in vain,
By all forgotten, save the lonely breast,
And mix unbleeding with the boasted slain,
While Glory crowns so many a meaner crest!
What hadst thou done to sink so peacefully to rest?

CII.

Oh, known, the earliest, and esteem'd the most!
Dear to a heart where nought was left so dear!
Though to my hopeless day for ever lost,
In dreams deny me not to see thee here!
And Morn in secret shall renew the tear
Of Consciousness awaking to her woes,
And Fancy hover o'er thy bloodless bier,
Till my frail frame return to whence it rose,
And mourn'd and mourner lie united in repose.
CHI.

Here is one fytte of Harold's pilgrimage;
Ye who of him may further seek to know,
Shall find some tidings in a future page,
If he that rhymeth now may scribble moe,
Is this too much! stern Critic! say not so;
Patience! and ye shall hear what he beheld
In other lands, where he was doom'd to go;
Lands that contain the monument of Eld, [quell'd.
Ere Greece and Grecian art by barbarous hands were

END OF CANTO I.

NOTES TO CANTO I.

1. The little village of Castri stands partly on the site of Delphi. Along the path of the mountain, from Chrysso, are the remains of sepulchres hewn in and from the rock One," said the guide, "of a king who broke his neck hunting.' His Majesty had certainly chosen the fittest spot for such an achievement.

66

2. The convent of "Our Lady of Punishment," Nossa Senora de Pena, on the summit of the rock. Below at some distance, is the Cork Convent, where St. Honorius dug his den, over which is his epitaph. From the hills the sea adds to the beauty of the view.

3. It is a well known fact, that in the year 1809, the assassinations in the streets of Lisbon and its vicinity were not confined by the Portuguese to their countrymen ; but that Englishmen were daily butchered; and so far from redress being obtained, we are requested not to interfere if we perceived any compatriot defending himself against his allies. I was once stopped in the way to the theatre at eight o'clock in the evening, when the streets were not more empty than they generally are at that hour, opposite to an open shop, and in a carriage with a friend; had we not fortunately been armed, I have not the least doubt that we should have adorned a tale instead of telling one. The crime of assassination is not confined to Portugal in Sicily and Malta we are knocked on the head at a handsome average nightly, and not a Sicilian or Maltese is ever punished!

4. The convention of Cintra was signed in the palace of the Marchese Marialva.

5. The extent of Mafra is prodigious; it contains a palace, convent, and most superb church.

6. As I found the Portuguese, so I have characterized them. That they are since improved, at least in courage is evident.

7. Count Julian's daughter, the Helen of Spain, Pelagius preserved his independence in the fastnesses of the Asturias, and the descendants of his followers, after

D

some centuries, completed their struggle by the conquest of Grenada.

8. "Viva el Rey Fernando!"-Long live King Ferdinand is the chorus of most of the Spanish Patriotic ongs.

9. The red cockade with " Fernando Septimo" in the centre.

10. All who have seen a battery will recollect the pyramidal form in which shot and shells are piled. The Sierra Morena was fortified in every defile through which I passed in my way to Seville.

11. Such were the exploits of the maid of Saragoza. When the author was at Seville, she walked daily on the Prado, decorated with medals and orders, by command of the Junta.

12. Sigilla in mento impressa Amoris digitulo
Vestigio demonstrant Mollitudinum.

AUL. GEL. 13. These stanzas were written in Castri (Delphos,) at the foot of Parnassus now called Liakura.

14. Seville was the HISPALIS of the Romans.

15. This was written at Thebes, and consequently in the best situation for asking and answering such a question, not as the birth-place of Pindar, but as the capital of Boeotia, where the first riddle was propounded and solved.

16. "Medio de fonte leporum "Surgit amari aliquid quod in ipsis floribus angat." Luc. 17. Alluding to the conduct and death of Solano, the governor of Cadiz.

18. "War to the knife." Palafox's answer to the French General at the siege of Saragoza.

19. The honourable I* W** of the Guards, who died of a fever at Coimbra. I had known him ten years, the better half of his life, and the happiest part of mine.

END OF NOTES TO CANTO I.

CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE.

A ROMAUNT.

CANTO 11.

I.

COME, blue-eyed maid of heaven!--but thou alas!
Didst never yet one mortal song inspire-
Goddess of Wisdom! bere thy temple was,
And is, despite of war and wasting fire, (1)
And years, that bade thy worship to expire:
But worse than steel, and flame, and ages slow,
Is the dread sceptre and dominion dire
Of men who never felt the sacred glow

[bestow. (2)

That thoughts of thee and thine on polish'd breasts

II.

Ancient of days! august Athena ! where,

Where are thy men of might? thy grand in soul?

Gone glimmering through the dream of things that First in the race that led to Glory's gaol

[were:

They won, and pass'd away-is this the whole?

A school-boy's tale, the wonder of an hour!
The warrior's weapon and the sophist's stole

Are sought in vain, and o'er each mouldering tower, Dim with the mist of years, grey flits the shade of power.

III.

Son of the morning, rise! approach you here! Come-but molest not yon defenceless urn: Look on this spot-a nation's sepulchre ! Abode of Gods, whose shrines no longer burn. Even Gods must yield-religions take their turn: 'Twas Jove's-'tis Mahomet's-and other creeds Will rise with other years, till man shall learn Vainly his incense soars, his victim bleeds; [reeds. Poor child of Doubt and Death, whose hope is built on

IV.

Bound to the earth, he lifts his eye to heaven-
Is't not enough, unhappy thing! to know
Thou art? Is this a boon so kindly given,
That being, thou wouldst be again, and go,
Thou know'st not, reck'st not to what region, so
On earth no more, but mingled with the skies?
Still wilt thou dream on future joy and woe?
Regard and weigh you dust before it flies:
That little urn saith more than thousand homilies.
V.

Or burst the vanish'd Hero's lofty mound;
Far on the solitary shore he sleeps: (3)
He fell, and falling nations mourn'd around;
But now not one of saddening thousands weeps,
Nor warlike-worshipper his vigil keeps
Where demi-gods appear'd, as records tell.
Remove yon skull from out the scatter'd heaps,
Is that a temple where a God may dwell?
Why ev'n the worm at last disdains her shatter'd cell!
VI.

Look on its broken arch, its ruin'd wall,
Its chambers desolate, and portals foul:
Yes, this was once Ambition's airy hall,

The dome of Thought, the palace of the Soul:
Behold through each lack-lustre, eyeless hole,
The gay recess of Wisdom and of Wit

And Passion's host, that never brook'd control;
Can all, saint, sage, or sophist ever writ,
People this lonely tower, this tenement refit?