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,

And Pleasure, leagued with Pomp, the zest of both destroys.

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 viewed 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 cheered 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

Might once again renew their ancient butcher-work.

LXVIII.

Vain fear! the Sulintes stretched the welcome hand, Led them o'er rocks and past the dangerous swamp, Kinder than polished slaves though not so bland, And piled the hearth, and wrung their garments damp,

And filled the bowl, and trimmed the cheerfull lamp,

And spread their fare; though homely, all they had: Such conduct bears Philanthropy's rare stampTo rest the weary and to soothe the sad,

Doth lesson happier men, and shames at least the

bad.

LXIX.

It came to pass, that when he did address

2

Himself to quit at length this mountain-land, Combined marauders half way barred 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 seasoned, and with labours tanned, Till he did, greet white Achelous' tide,

And from his further bank Aetolia's wolds espied.

VOL. I.

LXX.

And weary

Where lone Utraikey forms its circling cove, 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, For many a joy could he from Night's soft presence glean.

The feast was done, the red wine circling fast,

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 9 his sabre from him cast,

2

And bounding hand in hand, man linked to man," Yelling their uncouth dirge, long daunced the kirtled

clan.

LXXII.

Childe Harold at a little distance stood

And viewed, but not displeased, the revelrie, 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 gleamed, Their gestures nimble, dark eyes flashing free, The long wild locks that to their girdles streamed, While thus in concert they this lay half sang, half screamed: 30

1:

TAMBOURGI! Tambourgi!* thy 'larum afar Gives hope to the valiant, and promise of war; All the sons of the mountains arise at the note,' Chimariot, Illyrian, and dark Suliote!

* Drummer.