Lord Byron

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage (With Byron's Biography)


Скачать книгу

dark eyed boy, who loved his master well; And often would his pranksome prate engage Harold's Childe Burun's ear, when his proud heart did swell With sable thoughts that he disdained to tell. Alwin Then would he smile on him, as Rupert smiled, Robin When aught that from his young lips archly fell Harold's The gloomy film from Burun's eye beguiled; And pleased the Childe appeared nor ere the boy reviled. And pleased for a glimpse appeared the woeful Childe. } Him and one yeoman only did he take To travel Eastward to a far countree; And though the boy was grieved to leave the lake On whose firm banks he grew from Infancy, Eftsoons his little heart beat merrily With hope of foreign nations to behold, And many things right marvellous to see, vaunting Of which our lying voyagers oft have told, From Mandevilles' and scribes of similar mold. or, In tomes pricked out with prints to monied ... sold In many a tome as true as Mandeville's of old. }

      And none did love him though to hall and bower few could Haughty he gathered revellers from far and near An evil smile just bordering on a sneer He knew them flatterers of the festal hour Curled on his lip The heartless Parasites of present cheer, As if And deemed no mortal wight his peer Yea! none did love him not his lemmans dear To gentle Dames still less he could be dear Were aught But pomp and power alone are Woman's care But And where these are let no Possessor fear The sex are slaves Maidens like moths are ever caught by glare Love shrinks outshone by Mammons dazzling glare And Mammon That Demon wins his [MS. torn] where Angels might despair.

      "As with the woful fere, And father of that chaste dishonoured dame."

       Titus Andronicus, act iv. sc. 1.

      Compare, too, "That woman and her fleshless Pheere" (The Rime of the Ancyent Marinere, line 180 of the reprint from the first version in the Lyrical Ballads, 1798; Poems by S. T. Coleridge, 1893, App. E, p. 515).]

      " ... I depart,

       Whither I know not; but the hour's gone by,

       When Albion's lessening shores could grieve or glad mine eye."

      "This night is my departing night,

       For here nae langer mun I stay;

       There's neither friend nor foe of mine,

       But wishes me away.

       What I have done thro' lack of will, I never, never can recall;