Lord Byron

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


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than friend: This much, dear Maid, accord; nor question why To one so young my strain I would commend, But bid me with my wreath one matchless Lily blend.

       Table of Contents

      II.

      Whilome in Albion's isle there dwelt a youth,

       Who ne in Virtue's ways did take delight;

       But spent his days in riot most uncouth,

       And vexed with mirth the drowsy ear of Night.

       Ah me! in sooth he was a shameless wight,

      III.

      IV.

      V.

      VI.

      VII.

      The Childe departed from his father's hall:

       It was a vast and venerable pile;

       So old, it seeméd only not to fall,

       Yet strength was pillared in each massy aisle.

      Yet oft-times in his maddest mirthful mood

      X.