LXIII. Of thee hereafter. - Ev'n amidst my strain And hail'd thee, not perchance without a tear. Let me some remnant, some memorial bear; Yield me one leaf of Daphne's deathless plant,1 Nor let thy votary's hope be deem'd an idle vaunt. LXIV. But ne'er didst thou, fair Mount! when Greece was young, See round thy giant base a brighter choir, Nor e'er did Delphi, when her priestess sung The Pythian hymn with more than mortal fire, The song of love than Andalusia's maids, Ah! that to these were given such peaceful shades As Greece can still bestow, though Glory fly her glades. the general appearance of the city. The acclivity of the hill, and the foundations being placed on rock, without cement, would no doubt render them comparatively easy to be removed or hurled down into the vale below; but the vale exhibits no appearance of accumulation of hewn stones; and the modern village could have consumed but few. In the course of so many centuries, the débris from the mountain must have covered up a great deal, and even the rubbish itself may have acquired a soil sufficient to conceal many noble remains from the light of day. Yet we see no swellings or risings in the ground, indicating the graves of the temples. All therefore is mystery, and the Greeks may truly say, Where stood the walls of our fathers?' scarce their mossy tombs remain ! H. W. Williams's Travels in Greece, vol. ii. p. 254.] 1. ["Some glorious thought to my petition grant."- MS.] LXV. Fair is proud Seville; let her country boast Calls forth a sweeter, though ignoble praise. A Cherub-hydra round us dost thou gape, LXVI. When Paphos fell by time - - accursed Time! To nought else constant, hither deign'd to flee; A thousand altars rise, for ever blazing bright. 3 LXVII. From morn till night, from night till startled Morn 1 Seville was the Hispalis of the Romans. 2 [“ The lurking lures of thy enchanting gaze.” — MS.] 3 [ Cadiz, sweet Cadiz !-it is the first spot in the creation. The beauty of its streets and mansions is only excelled by the liveliness of its inhabitants. It is a complete Cythera, full of the finest women in Spain; the Cadiz belles being the Lancashire witches of their land."— Lord B. to his Mother, 1809.] D Tread on each other's kibes. A long adieu And love and prayer unite, or rule the hour by turns. 1 LXVIII. The Sabbath comes, a day of blessed rest: Hark! heard you not the forest-monarch's roar? LXIX. The seventh day this; the jubilee of man. London! right well thou know'st the day of prayer : Then thy spruce citizen, wash'd artisan, And smug apprentice gulp their weekly air : Thy coach of hackney, whiskey, one-horse chair, And humblest gig through sundry suburbs whirl; To Hampstead, Brentford, Harrow make repair; Till the tired jade the wheel forgets to hurl, Provoking envious gibe from each pedestrian churl. LXX. Some o'er thy Thamis row the ribbon'd fair, Some Richmond-hill ascend, some scud to Ware, 1 monkish temples share The hours misspent, and all in turns is love and prayer."-MS.] Ask ye, Boeotian shades! the reason why?1 'Tis to the worship of the solemn Horn, Grasp'd in the holy hand of Mystery, In whose dread name both men and maids are sworn, And consecrate the oath 2 with draught, and dance till morn. 3 LXXI. All have their fooleries- not alike are thine, Much is the VIRGIN teased to shrive them free From crimes as numerous as her beadsmen be; Then to the crowded circus forth they fare: Young, old, high, low, at once the same diversion share. 1 This was written at Thebes, and consequently in the best situation for asking and answering such a question; not as the birthplace of Pindar, but as the capital of Boeotia, where the first riddle was propounded and solved. 2 [Lord Byron alludes to a ridiculous custom which formerly prevailed at the public-houses in Highgate, of administering a burlesque oath to all travellers of the middling rank who stopped there. The party was sworn on a pair of horns, fastened, "never to kiss the maid when he could kiss the mistress; never to eat brown bread when he could get white; never to drink small beer wher he could get strong;" with many other injunctions of the like kind, -to all which was added the saving clause," unless you like it best."] 3 [In thus mixing up the light with the solemn, it was the intention of the poet to imitate Ariosto. But it is far easier to rise, with grace, from the level of a strain generally familiar, into an occasional short burst of pathos or splendour, than to interrupt thus a prolonged tone of solemnity by any descent into the ludicrous or burlesque. In the former case, the transition may have the effect of softening or elevating; while, in the latter, it almost invariably shocks; for the same reason, perhaps, that a trait of pathos or high feeling, in comedy, has a peculiar charm; while the intrusion of comic scenes into tragedy, however sanctioned among us by habit and authority, rarely fails to offend. The poet was himself convinced of the failure of the experiment, and in none of the succeeding cantos of Childe Harold repeated it. - MOORE.] LXXII. The lists are oped, the spacious area olear'd, Yet ever well inclined to heal the wound; None through their cold disdain are doom'd to die, As moon-struck bards complain, by Love's sad archery. LXXIII. Hush'd is the din of tongues on gallant steeds, With milk-white crest, gold spur, and light-poised lance, Four cavaliers prepare for venturous deeds, And lowly bending to the lists advance; Rich are their scarfs, their chargers featly prance : If in the dangerous game they shine to-day, And all that kings or chiefs e'er gain their toils repay. LXXIV. In costly sheen and gaudy cloak array'd, The lord of lowing herds; but not before The ground, with cautious tread, is traversed o'er, Lest aught unseen should lurk to thwart his speed: His arms a dart, he fights aloof, nor more Can man achieve without his friendly steedAlas! too oft condemn'd for him to bear and bleed. |