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1 Part of the Acropolis was destroyed by the explosion of a had been a temple, a church, and a mosque. In each point magazine during the Venetian siege.-(Ón the highest part of view it is an object of regard : it changed its worshippers ; of Lycabettus, as Chandler was informed by an eye-witness, but still it was a place of worship thrice sacred to devotion : the Venetians, in 1687, placed four mortars and six pieces of its violation is a triple sacrifice. Butcannon, when they battered the Acropolis. One of the bombs

" Man, proud man, was fatal to some of the sculpture on the west front of the

Dress'd in a little brief authority, Parthenon. "In 1667," says Mr. Hobhouse, “every antiquity

Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven of which there is now any trace in the Acropolis, was in a

As inake the angels weep." tolerable state of preservation. This great temple might, at that period, be called entire ;--having been previously, a

' (In the original MS. we nd the following note to this Christian church, it was then a mosque, the most beautiful

and the five following stanzas, which had been prepared for in the world. At present, only twenty-nine of the Doric publication, but was afterwards withdrawn, “ from a fear, columns, some of which no longer support their entablatures, says the poet, " that it might be considered rather as an aiand part of the left wall of the cell, reinain standing. Those

tack, than a desence of religion :"-"In this age of bigotry, of the north side, the angular ones excepted, have all fallen. when the puritan and priest have changed places, and the The portion yet standing, cannot fail to fill the mind of the wretched Catholic is visited with the sins of his fathers, indifferent spectator with sentinents of astonishinent and

even unto generations far beyond the pale of the commandawe ; and the saine reflections arise upon the sight even of ment, the cast of opinion in these stanzas will, doubtless, the enorinous masses of marble ruins which are spread upon meet with many a contemptuous anathenia But let it be the area of the temple. Such scattered fragments will soon

remembered, that the spirit they breathe is desponding, not constitute the sole remains of the Temple of Minerva."]

sneering, skepticism ; that he who has seen the Greek and

Moslemn superstitions contending for inastery over the former * We can all feel, or imagine, the regret with which the shrines of Polytheism--who has left in his own, “ Pharisees, ruins of cities, once the capitals of empires, are beheld : the thanking God that they are not like publicans and sinners, reflections suggested by such objects are too trite to require and Spaniards in theirs, abhorring the heretics, who have recapitulation. But never did the littleness of man, and the holpen them in their need, -will be not a little bewildered, vanity of his very best virtues, of patriotism to exalt, and of and begin to think, that as only one of them can be right, valor to defend his country, appear inore conspicuous than they may, most of them, be wrong. With regard to morals, in the record of what Athens wils, and the certainty of what and the effect of religion on mankind, it appears, from all she now is. This theatre of contention between mighty fac historical testimony, to have had less effect in making them tions, of the struggles of orators, the exaltation and deposi- love their neighbors, than inducing that cordial Christian tion of tyrants, the triumph and punishment of generals, is abhorrence between sectaries and schismatics. The Turks now become a scene of peity intrigue and perpetual disturb. and Quakers are the most tolerant: if an Infidel pays his ance, between the bickering agents of certain British nobility heratch to the former, he may pray how, when, and where and gentry: “ The wild foxes, the owls and serpents in the he pleases ; and the mild tenets, and devout demeanor of ruins of Babylon," were surely less degrading than such in the latter, inake their lives the truest commentary on the habitants. The Turks have the plea of conquest for their Sermon on the Mount."] tyranny, and the Greeks have only suffered the fortune of war, incidental to the bravest ; but how are the mighty fallen,

+ ["Still wilt thou harp."- MS.) when iwo painters contest the privilege of plundering the It was not always the custom of the Greeks to burn their Parthenon, and triumph in turn, according to the tenor of dead ; the greater Ajax, in particular, was interred entire. each succeeding firman! Sylla could but punish, Philip sub Alinost all ihe chiefs became gods after their decease ; and due, and Xerxes burn Athens, but it remained for the paltry he was indeed neglected, who had not annual games near antiquarian, and his despicable agents, to render her con his tomb, or festivals in honor of his memory by his countrytemptible as himself and his pursuits. The Parthenon, be men, as Achilles, Brasidas, &c., and at last even Antinous, fore its destruction in part, by fire during the Venetian siege, whose death was as heroic as his life was infamous.

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Look on its broken arch, its ruin'd wall,
Its chambers desolato, and portals foul :
Yes, this was once Ambition's airy hall,
The dome of Thought, the palace of the Soul:
Behold through each lack-lastre, 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 louely tower, this tenement refit?

Well didst thou speak, Athena's wisest son!
* All that we know is, nothing can be known.”
Why should we shrink from what we cannot shun?
Each hath his pang, but feeble sufferers groun
With brain-born dreams of evil all their own.
Pursue what Chance or Fate proclaimeth best ;
Peace waits us on the shores of Acheron :

There no forced banquet claims the sated guest,
But Silence spreads the couch of ever welcome rest.

Yet if, as holiest men have deem'd, there be
A land of souls beyond that sable shore,
To share the doctrine of the Sadduces
And sophists, madly vain of dubious lore;
How sweet it were in concert to adore
With those who made our mortal labors light!
To hear each voico we fear'd to hear no more!
Behold each mighty shade reveald to sight,
The Bactrian, Samian sage, and all who taught the

There, thou !—whose love and life together fled,
Havo left me here to love and live in vain-
I'wined with my heart, and can I deem thee dead,
When busy memory flashes on my brain ?

I will dream that we may meet again,
And woo the vision to my vacant breast :
If anght of young Remembrance then remain,

Be us it may Futurity's behest,
For me 'twere bliss enough to know thy spirit blest !?

But who, of all the plunderers of yon fano
On high, where Pallas linger’d, loath to fleo
The latest relic of her ancient reign;
The last, the worst, dull spoiler, who was he?
Blush, Caledonia ! such thy son could be !
England ! I joy no child he was of thine:
Thy free-born men should spare what once was free;

Yet they could violate each saddening shrine,
And bear these altars o'er the long-reluctant brine.

But most the modern Pict's ignoble boast,
To rive what Goth, and Turk, and Time hath

spared :
Cold as the crags upon his native coast,"
His mind as barren and his heart as hard,
Is he whose head conceived, whose hand prepared,
Aught to displace Athena's poor remains :
Her sons too weak the sacred shrine to guard,

Yet felt some portion of their mother's pains,"
And never knew, till then, the weight of Despot's chains.

What! shall it e'er be said by British tongue,
Albion was happy in Athena's tears?
Though in thy name the slaves her bosom wrung,
Tell not the deed to blushing Europe's ears ;
The ocean queen, the free Britannia, bears
The last poor plunder from a bleeding land:
Yes, she, whose gen'rous aid her name endears,

Tore down those remnants with a harpy's hand,
Which envious Eld forbore, and tyrants left to stand.”

[In the original MS., for this magnificent stanza, we find 4 The temple of Jupiter Olympius, of which sixteen colwhat follows:

umns, entirely of marble, yet survive: originally there "Frown not upon me, churlish Priest! that I

were one hundred and fifty: These columns, however, are Look pot for life, where life may never be ;

by many supposed to have belonged to the Pantheon. I am no sneerer at thy phantasy :

6 See Appendix to this Canto, (A,) for a note too long to be Thou pitiest me,-alas! I envy thee,

placed here. The ship was wrecked in the Archipelago. Thou bold discoverer in an unknown sea,

[“ Cold and accursed as his native coast."--MS.] of happy isles and happier tenants there I ask thee not to prove a Sadducee;

? I cannot resist availing myself of the permission of my Sull dream of Paradise, thou know'st not where,

friend Dr. Clarke, whose name requires no comment with But lor'st loo well to bid thine erring brother share.")

the public, but whose sanction will add tenfold weight to

my testimony, to insert the following extract from a very | Lord Byron wrote this stanza at Newstead, in October, obliging letter of his to me, as a note to the above lines :

1211, on hearmg of the death of his Cambridge friend, young “When the last of the metopes was taken from the PartheEsilextone; "making," he says, "the sixth, within four non, and, in moving of it, great part of the superstructure sonttis, of friends and relations that I have lost between with one of the triglyphs was thrown down by the workmen May and the end of August." See post, Hours of Idleness, whom Lord Elgin employed, the Disdar, who beheld the - The Cornelian.")

mischief done to the building, took his pipe from his mouth, 1 The thought and the expression," says Professor dropped a tear, and, in a supplicating tone of voice, said to Curse, in a letier to Lord Byron, "are here so truly Pe. Lusieri, Téos :-I was present.” The Disdar alluded to Varen's, that I would ask you whether you ever read, - was the father of the present Disdar. Por quando 'l vero sgombra

• (After stanza xiii. the original MS. has the following :veel dolce error pur li medesmo assido,

“ Come, then, ye classic Thanes of each degree, Ste freddo, pietra morta in pietra viva ;

Dark Hamilton and sullen Aberdeen, Le gusa d' uom ebé pensi e piange e scriva ;'

Come pilfer all the Pilgrim loves to see, Tous rendered by Wilmot,

All that yet consecrates the fading scene:

Oh! better were it ye had never been, But when rude truth destroys

Nor ye, nor Elgin, nor that lesser wight, Tze loved illusion of the dreamed sweets,

The victim sad of vase-collecting spleen, Int ou down on the cold rugged stone,

House-furnisher withal, one Thomas hight, Less cold, less dead than I, and think and weep alone.'”] Than ye should bear one stone from wrong'd' Athena's site.


Where was thine Ægis, Pallas ! that appall’d White is the glassy deck, without a stain,
Stern Alaric and Havoc on their way?"

Where on the watch the staid Lieutenant walks:
Where Peleus' son? whom Hell in vain inthrallid, Look on that part which sacred doth remain
His shade from Hades upon that dread day

For the lone chieftain, who majestic stalks, Bursting to light in terrible array!

Silent and fear'd by all-not oft he talks What! could not Pluto spare the chief once more, With aught beneath him, if he would preserve To scare a second robber from his prey?

That strict restraint, which broken, ever balks Idly he wander'd on the Stygian shore,

Conquest and Fame : but Britons rarely swerve Nor now preserved the walls he loved to shield before. From law, however stern, which tends their strength

to nerve."


XX. Cold is the heart, fair Greece! that looks on thee, Blow! swiftly blow, thou keel-compelling gale ! Nor feels as lovers o'er the dust they loved ;

Till the broad sun withdraws his lessening ray ; Dull is the eye that will not weep to see

Then must the pennant-bearer slacken sail, Thy walls desaced, thy mouldering shrines removed That lagging barks may make their lazy way. By British hands, which it had best behooved Ah! grievance sore, and listless dull delay, To guard those relics ne'er to be restored.

To waste on sluggish hulks the sweetest breeze! Cursed be the hour when from their islo they roved, What leagues are lost, before the dawn of day, And once again thy hapless bosom gored,

Thus loitering pensive on the willing seas, And snatch'd thy shrinking Gods to northern climes The flapping sail hauld down to halt for logs like abhorr'd!


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Or will the gentle Dilettanti crew
Now delegate the task to digging Gell,
That mighty limner of a birds-eye view,
How like to Nature let his volumes tell ;
Who can with him the folio's limits swell
With all the Author saw, or said he saw ?
Who can topographize or delve so well?

No boaster he, nor impudent and raw,
His pencil, pen, and shade, alike without a flaw.")

king was nearly as mischievous as the Scottish peer.-See Chandler.

? To prevent blocks or splinters from falling on deck during action.

* (** From Discipline's stern law," &c.-MS.)
* [" Plies the brisk instrument that sailor's love."-MS.)
6(Bleeds the lone heart, once boundless in its zeal,
And friendless now, yet dreams it had a friend."-

$(“Ah! happy years! I would I were once more a boy."


1 According to Zosimus, Minerva and Achilles frightened Alaric from the Acropolis; but others relate that the Gothic


XXIX. Thus bending o'er the vessel's laving side,

But not in silence pass Calypso's isles, To gaze on Dian's wave-reflected sphere,

The sister tenants of the middle deep; The soul forgets her schemes of Hope and Pride, There for the weary still a haven smiles, And flies unconscious o'er each backward year. Though the fair goddess long hath ceased to weep, Vone are so desolate but something dear,

And o'er her cliffs a fruitless watch to keep Deater than self, possesses or possess'd

For him who dared prefer a mortal bride : A thought, and claims the homage of a tear; Here, too, his boy essay'd the dreadful leap A flashing pang! of which the weary breast

Stern Mentor urged from high to yonder tide; | Would still, albeit in vain, the heavy heart divest. While thus of both bereft, the nymph-queen doubly

sigh'd. XXV.

XXX. To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell,

Her reign is past, her gentle glories gone: To slowly trace the forest's shady scene,

But trust not this ; too easy youth, beware! Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, A mortal sovereign holds her dangerous throne, And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been;

And thou mayst find a new Calypso there. To climb the trackless mountain all unseen,

Sweet Florence ! could another ever share With the wild flock that never needs a fold;

This wayward, loveless heart, it would be thine : Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ;

But check'd by every tio, I may not dare This is not solitude ; 'tis but to hold (unrollid. To cast a worthless offering at thy shrine, Coaverse with Nature's charms, and view her stores Nor ask so dear a breast to feel one pang for mine. XXVI.

XXXI. Bot 'midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men,

Thus Harold deom'd, as on that lady's eye To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess,

He look’d, and met its beam without a thought, And roam along, the world's tired denizen,

Save Admiration glancing harmless by: With none who bless us, none whom we can bless ;

Love kept aloof, albeit not far remote, Minions of splendor shrinking from distress!

Who knew his votary often lost and caught,

But knew him as his worshipper no more,
None that, with kindred consciousness endued,
If we were not, would seem to smile the less

And ne'er again the boy his bosom sought:
Of all that flatter'd, follow'd, sought, and sued;

Since now he vainly urged him to adore,

Well deem'd the little God his ancient sway was o'er. This is to be alone; this, this is solitude :


Fair Florence' found, in sooth with some amaze, More blest the life of godly eremite,

One who, 'twas said, still sigh'd to all he saw, Such as on lonely Athos may be seen,'

Withstand, unmoved, the lustre of her gaze, Watching at eve upon the giant height,

Which others hail'd with real or mimic awe, Which looks o'er waves so blue, skies so serene, Their hope, their doom, their punishment, their law; Tha he who there at such an hour hath been

All that gay Beauty from her bondsmen claims : WI wistful linger on that hallow'd spot ;

And much she marvellid that a youth so raw Then slowly tear him from the witching scene,

Nor felt, nor feign'd at least, the oft-told flames, Sigh forth one wish that such had been his lot,

Which, though sometimes they frown, yet rarely
Then turn to hate a world he had almost forgot.

Pass we the long, unvarying course, the track Little knew she that seeming marble heart,
Oft trod, that never leaves a trace behind;

Now mask'd in silence or withheld by pride,
Pas we the calm, the gale, the change, the tack, Was not unskilful in the spoiler's art,"
And each well known caprice of wave and wind; And spread its snares licentious far and wide ;-
Pass we the joys and sorrows sailors find,

Nor from the base pursuit had turn'd aside, Coop'd in their winged sea-girt citadel ;

As long as anght was worthy to pursue : The fou!, the fair, the contrary, the kind,

But Harold on such arts no more relied ; As breezes rise and fall and billows swell,

And had he doted on those eyes so blue, Til on some jocund morn-lo, land! and all is well. Yet never would ho join the lover's whining crew.

anger dames.

! 'Ope of Lord Byron's chief delights was, as he himself whose acquaintance the poet formed at Malta, see Miscelgates in one of his journals, after bathing in some retired laneous Poems, September, 1809, “ To Florence." "In one

4. to eat himself on a high rock above the sea, and there so imaginative as Lord Byron, who, while he infused so niin for hours, gazing upon the sky and the waters. “He much of his life into his poetry, mingled also not a little of led the life," says Sir Egerton Brydges, " as he wrote the poetry with his life, it is difficult,' says Moore, * in unraveltrains, of a true poet. He could sleep, and very frequently | ling the texture of his feelings, to distinguish at all times be9. sleep, wrapped up in his rough greai-coat, on the hard tween the fanciful and the real. His description here, for

bards of a derk, while the winds and the waves were roar instance, of the unmoved and loveless heart,' with which | EIK round hin on every side, and could subsist on a crust he contemplated even the charms of this attractive person,

ani a glass of water. It would be difficult to persuade me, is wholly at variance with the statements in many of his ikat je who is a concomb in his manners, and artificial in letters; and, above all, with one of the inost graceful of his bis habits of hfe, could write good poetry.")

lesser poems, addressed to this saine lady, during a thunder! Gora is said to have been the island of Calypso. ("The

storm on his road to Ziza."] atite of the habitation assigned by poets to the nymph 4 (Against this line it is sufficient to set the poet's own Capo, has occasioned much discussion and variety of declaration, in 1821 :—"I am not a Joseph, nor a Scipio, but

Some place it at Malta, and some at Goza." I can safely affirin, that I never in my life seduced any Haire's Classical Tour.)

woman."] ' (For an account of this accomplished but eccentric lady, $("* We have here another instance of his propensity to


XXXIX. Not much he kens, I ween, of woman's breast, Childe Harold sail'd, and pass'd the barren spot, Who thinks that wanton thing is won by sighs; Where sad Penelope o'erlook'd the wave;8 What careth she for hearts when once possess'd ? And onward view'd the mount, not yet forgot, Do proper homage to thine idol's eyes;

The lover's refuge, and the Lesbian's grave. But not too humbly, or she will despise

Dark Sappho! could not verse immortal save Thee and thy suit, though told in moving tropes ; That breast imbued with such immortal fire ? Disguise ev'n tendernesa, if thou art wise ;

Could she not live who life eternal gave ? Brisk Confidence' still best with woman copes ; If life eternal may await the lyre, Pique her and sooth in turn, soon Passion crowns thy That only Heaven to which Earth's children may hopes.


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XLIII. Land of Albania! where Iskander rose,

Now Harold felt himself at length alone, Theme of the young, and beacon of the wise,

And bade to Christian tongues a long adieu ; And he his namesake, whose oft-baffled foes

Now he adventured on a shore unknown, Shrunk from his deeds of chivalrous emprise :

Which all admire, but many dread to view : Land of Albania !? let me bend mine eyes

His breast was arm’d'gainst fate, his wants were few; On thee, thou rugged nurse of savage men!

Peril he sought not, but ne'er shrank to meet : The cross descends, thy minarets arise,

The scene was savage, but the scene was new; And the pale crescent sparkles in the glen,

This made the ceaseless toil of travel sweet, (heat. Through many a cypress grove within each city's ken. Beat back keen winter's blast, and welcomed summer's


self-misrepresentation. However great might have been the irregularities of his college life, such phrases as “the spoiler's ari,' and spreading snares,' were in no wise applicable to thein."-Moore.)

("Brisk Impudence," &c.-MS.) ? See Appendix to this Canto, Note [B.)

3 Ithaca.-- “ Sept. 24th," says Mr. Hobhouse, “ we were in the channel, with Ithaca, then in the hands of the French, to the west of us. We were close to it, and saw a few shrubs on a brown heathy land, iwo little towns in the hills, scattered among trees, and a windmill or two, with a tower on the heignis. That Ithaca was not very strongly garrisoned, you will easily believe, when I tell, that a month afterwards, when the Ionian Islands were invested by a British squadron, it was surrendered into the hands of a sergeant and seven

For a very curious account of the state of the kingdom of Ulysses in 1816, see Williams's Travels, vol. ii.p.497.)

4 Leucadia, now Santa Maura. From the promontory (the Lover's Leap) Sappho is said to have throwd herself.[“ Sept. 28th, we doubled the promontory of Santa Maura, and saw the precipice which the fate of Sappho, the poetry of Ovid, and ihe rocks so formidable to the ancient mari. ners, have made forever memorable."-HOBHOUSE.!

5 Actium and Trafalgar need no further mention. The battle of Lepanto, equally bloody and considerable, but less known, was fought in the Gulf of Patras. Here the author of Don Quixote lost his left hand. 6 [" And roused him more from thought than he was wont, While Pleasure almost seem' to smooth his placid


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