Herself more sweetly rears the babe she bears,

LXV.

Fierce are Albania's children, yet they lack Not virtues, were those virtues more mature. Where is the foe that ever saw their back? Who can so well the toil of war endure? Their native fastnesses not more secure Than they in doubtful time of troublous need: Their wrath how deadly! but their friendship sure, When gratitude or valour bids them bleed, Unshaken rushing on where'er their chief may lead.

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 In aught that tries the heart how few withstand the proof!

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 awhile 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 and Turk

LXII.

In marble-paved pavilion, where a spring
Of living water from the centre rose,
Whose bubbling did a genial freshness fling,
And soft voluptuous couches breathed repose,
ALI reclined, a man of war and woes;
Yet in his lineaments ye cannot trace,
While gentleness her milder radiance throws
Along that aged venerable face,

LXVIII.

Vain fear! the Suliotes stretch'd the welcome hand,
Led them o'er rocks and past the dangerous swamp,
Kinder than polish'd slaves though not so bland,
And piled the hearth, and wrung their garments damp,
And fill'd the bowl, and trimm'd the cheerful lamp,
And spread their fare; though homely, all they had:
Such conduct bears philanthropy's rare stamp-
To rest the weary and to soothe the sad,

LXII.

It is not that yon hoary lengthening beard Ill suits the passions which belong to youth; Love conquers age-so Hafiz hath averr'd, So sings the Teian, and he sings in soothBut 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.

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 wantonness, 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,

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 Acarnania'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 Etolia's wolds espied.

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 ruffling, the blue deep's serene.-
Here Harold was received a welcome guest,
Nor did he pass unmoved the gentle scene,

destroys.

LXXI.

On the smooth shore the night-fires brightly blazed, The feast was done, the red wine circling fast, 28 And he that unawares had there ygazed With gaping wonderment had stared aghast; For ere night's midmost, stillest hour was past The native revels of the troop began; Each Palikar 29 his sabre from him cast, And bounding hand in hand, man link'd to man, Telling their uncouth dirge,long daunced the kirtled clan. LXXII.

Childe Harold at a little distance stood And view'd, but not displeased, the revelric, Nor hated harmless mirth, however rude: In sooth, it was no vulgar sight to see Their barbarous, yet their not indecent, glee, And, as the flames along their faces gleam'd, 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 sang, half

scream'd: 30

1.

TAMBOURGI! Tambourgi!' thy 'larum afar Gaves hope to the valiant, and promise of war; Al the sons of the mountains arise at the note, himariot, Illyrian, and dark Suliote!

2.

h' who is more brave than a dark Suliote,

It has snowy camese and his shaggy capote?

To the wolf and the vulture he leaves his wild flock, tad descends to the plain like the stream from the rock.

3.

Shall the sons of Chimari, who never forgive
The fault of a friend, bid an enemy live?

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

4.

Macedonia sends forth her invincible race;
For a time they abandon the cave and the chase:
but those scarfs of blood-red shall be redder, before
The sabre is sheathed and the battle is o'er.

5.

Then the pirates of Parga that dwell by the waves, And teach the pale Franks what it is to be slaves, Shall leave on the beach the long galley and oar, And track to his covert the captive on shore.

6.

I ask not the pleasures that riches supply,
My sabre shall win what the feeble must buy;
shall win the young bride with her long-flowing hair,
And many a maid from her mother shall tear.

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,
And sing as a song on the fall of her sire.

1 Drummer.

8.

Remember the moment when Previsa fell, 31
The shrieks of the conquer'd, the conquerors' yell;
The roofs that we fired, and the plunder we shared,
The wealthy we slaughter'd, the lovely we spared.

9.

I talk not of mercy, I talk not of fear;

He neither must know who would serve the vizier: Since the days of our prophet the crescent ne'er saw A chief ever glorious like Ali Pashaw.

10.

Dark Muchtar his son to the Danube is sped, Let the yellow-hair'd' Giaours view his horse-tail 3 with dread;

When his Delhis 4 come dashing in blood o'er the banks, How few shall escape from the Muscovite ranks!

II.

Selictar! 5 unsheathe then our chief's scimitar: 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!

LXXIII.

Fair Greece! sad relic of departed worth! 33
Immortal, though no more; though fallen, great!
Who now shall lead thy scatter'd children forth,
And long accustom'd bondage uncreate?
Not such thy sons who whilome did await,
The hopeless warriors of a willing doom,

In bleak Thermopyla's sepulchral strait—
Oh! who that gallant spirit shall resume,

Leap from Eurota's banks, and call thee from the tomb?

LXXIV.

Spirit of freedom! when on Phyle's brow 34
Thou sat'st with Thrasybulus and his train,
Couldst thou forebode the dismal hour which now

Dims the green beauties of thine Attic plain?

Not thirty tyrants now enforce the chain, 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, From birth till death enslav'd; in word, in deed unmann'd.

LXXV.

In all, save form alone, how changed! and who
That marks the fire still sparkling in each eye,
Who but would deem their bosoms burn'd anew
With thy unquenched beam, lost liberty!
And many dream withal the hour is nigh
That gives them back their father's heritage:
For foreign arms and aid they fondly sigh,
Nor solely dare encounter hostile rage,

Or tear their name defiled from slavery's mournful page.

1 Yellow is the epithet g ven to the Russians. 2 Infidel.

3 Horse-tails are the insignia of a Pacba.

4 Horsemen, answering to our forlorn hope. Sword-bearer.

XL.

"T was on a Grecian autumn's gentle eve
Childe Harold hail'd Leucadia's cape afar:
A spot he long'd to see, nor cared to leave:
Oft did he mark the scenes of vanish d war,
Actium, Lepanto, fatal Trafalgar; 13
Mark them unmoved, for he would not delight
'Born beneath some remote inglorious star,
In themes of bloody fray, or gallant fight,

XLVI.

From the dark barriers of that rugged clime,
Even to the centre of Illyria's vales,
Childe Harold pass'd o'er many a mount sublime,
Through lands scarce noticed in historic tales;
Yet in famed Attica such lovely dales
Are rarely seen; nor can fair Tempe boast
A charm they know not; loved Parnassus fails,
Though classic ground and consecrated most,

wight.

He pass'd bleak Pindus, Acherusia's lake,'7 And left the primal city of the land,

And onwards did his further journey take

To greet Albania's chief,18 whose dread command Is lawless law; for with a bloody hand He sways a nation, turbulent and bold: Yet here and there some daring mountain-band Disdain his power, and from their rocky hold flurl their defiance far, nor yield, unless to gold.19 XLVIII.

Monastie Zitza! * from thy shady brow,

! Thou small, but favour'd spot of holy ground! Where'er we gaze, around, above, below,

What rainbow tints, what magic charms are found!

Rock, river, forest, mountain, all abound,

And bluest skies that harmonize the whole:

Oh! where, Dodona! is thine aged grove,

Prophetic fount, and oracle divine?

What valley echoed the response of Jove?

What trace remaineth of the Thunderer's shrine'

All, all forgotten--and shall man repine

That his frail bonds to fleeting life are broke? Cease, fool! the fate of gods may well be thine : Wouldst thou survive the marble or the oak? When nations, tongues, and worlds must sink beneath the stroke!

LIV.

Epirus' bounds recede, and mountains fail;

Tired of up-gazing still, the wearied eye
Reposes gladly on as smooth a vale

As ever spring yclad in grassy dye:

Even on a plain no humble beauties lie,

Where some bold river breaks the long expanse, And woods along the banks are waving high, Whose shadows in the glassy waters dance,

trance.

LV.

The sun had sunk behind vast Tomerit, 25
And Laos wide and fierce came roaring by ; 26
The shades of wonted night were gathering yet,
When, down the steep banks winding warily,
Childe Harold saw, like meteors in the sky,
The glittering minarets of Tepalen,

Whose walls o'erlook the stream; and drawing nigh,
He heard the busy hum of warrior-men
Swelling the breeze that sigh'd along the length'ning glen.

LVI.

He pass'd the sacred haram's silent tower,
And 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.

LVII.

Richly caparison'd, a ready row

Of armed horse, and many a warlike store
Circled the wide-extending court below:
Above, strange groups adorn'd the corridor;
And oft-times through the Area's echoing door
Some high-capp'd Tartar spurr'd his steed away:
The Turk, the Greek, the Albanian, and the Moor,
Here mingled in their many-hued array,

LXXXI.

Glanced many a light caïque along the foam,
Danced 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 prattle as he will,

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 still his honied wealth Hymettus yields;
There the blithe bee his 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;