Childe Harold's Pilgrimage - Canto the First

1. 1Oh, thou! in Hellas deemed of heavenly birth,
2. 2Muse! formed or fabled at the Minstrel's will!
3. 3Since shamed full oft by later lyres on earth,
4. 4Mine dares not call thee from thy sacred Hill:
5. 5Yet there I've wandered by thy vaunted rill;
6. 6Yes! sighed o'er Delphi's long deserted shrine,
7. 7Where, save that feeble fountain, all is still;
8. 8Nor mote my shell awake the weary Nine
9. 9To grace so plain a tale--this lowly lay of mine.

1. 10Whilome in Albion's isle there dwelt a youth,
2. 11Who ne in Virtue's ways did take delight;
3. 12But spent his days in riot most uncouth,
4. 13And vexed with mirth the drowsy ear of Night.
5. 14Ah me! in sooth he was a shameless wight,
6. 15Sore given to revel and ungodly glee;
7. 16Few earthly things found favour in his sight
8. 17Save concubines and carnal companie,
9. 18And flaunting wassailers of high and low degree.

1. 19Childe Harold was he hight:--but whence his name
2. 20And lineage long, it suits me not to say;
3. 21Suffice it, that perchance they were of fame,
4. 22And had been glorious in another day:
5. 23But one sad losel soils a name for ay,
6. 24However mighty in the olden time;
7. 25Nor all that heralds rake from coffined clay,
8. 26Nor florid prose, nor honied lies of rhyme,
9. 27Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a crime.

1. 28Childe Harold basked him in the Noontide sun,
2. 29Disporting there like any other fly;
3. 30Nor deemed before his little day was done
4. 31One blast might chill him into misery.
5. 32But long ere scarce a third of his passed by,
6. 33Worse than Adversity the Childe befell;
7. 34He felt the fulness of Satiety:
8. 35Then loathed he in his native land to dwell,
9. 36Which seemed to him more lone than Eremite's sad cell.

1. 37For he through Sin's long labyrinth had run,
2. 38Nor made atonement when he did amiss,
3. 39Had sighed to many though he loved but one,
4. 40And that loved one, alas! could ne'er be his.
5. 41Ah, happy she! to 'scape from him whose kiss
6. 42Had been pollution unto aught so chaste;
7. 43Who soon had left her charms for vulgar bliss,
8. 44And spoiled her goodly lands to gild his waste,
9. 45Nor calm domestic peace had ever deigned to taste.

1. 46And now Childe Harold was sore sick at heart.
2. 47And from his fellow Bacchanals would flee;
3. 48'Tis said, at times the sullen tear would start,
4. 49But Pride congealed the drop within his ee:
5. 50Apart he stalked in joyless reverie,
6. 51And from his native land resolved to go,
7. 52And visit scorching climes beyond the sea;
8. 53With pleasure drugged, he almost longed for woe,
9. 54And e'en for change of scene would seek the shades below.

1. 55The Childe departed from his father's hall:
2. 56It was a vast and venerable pile;
3. 57So old, it seeméd only not to fall,
4. 58Yet strength was pillared in each massy aisle.
5. 59Monastic dome! condemned to uses vile!
6. 60Where Superstition once had made her den
7. 61Now Paphian girls were known to sing and smile;
8. 62And monks might deem their time was come agen,
9. 63If ancient tales say true, nor wrong these holy men.

1. 64Yet oft-times in his maddest mirthful mood
2. 65Strange pangs would flash along Childe Harold's brow,
3. 66As if the Memory of some deadly feud
4. 67Or disappointed passion lurked below:
5. 68But this none knew, nor haply cared to know;
6. 69For his was not that open, artless soul
7. 70That feels relief by bidding sorrow flow,
8. 71Nor sought he friend to counsel or condole,
9. 72Whate'er this grief mote be, which he could not control.

1. 73And none did love him!--though to hall and bower
2. 74He gathered revellers from far and near,
3. 75He knew them flatterers of the festal hour,
4. 76The heartless Parasites of present cheer.
5. 77Yea! none did love him--not his lemans dear--
6. 78But pomp and power alone are Woman's care,
7. 79And where these are light Eros finds a feere;
8. 80Maidens, like moths, are ever caught by glare,
9. 81And Mammon wins his way where Seraphs might despair.

1. 82Childe Harold had a mother--not forgot,
2. 83Though parting from that mother he did shun;
3. 84A sister whom he loved, but saw her not
4. 85Before his weary pilgrimage begun:
5. 86If friends he had, he bade adieu to none.
6. 87Yet deem not thence his breast a breast of steel:
7. 88Ye, who have known what 'tis to dote upon
8. 89A few dear objects, will in sadness feel
9. 90Such partings break the heart they fondly hope to heal.

1. 91His house, his home, his heritage, his lands,
2. 92The laughing dames in whom he did delight,
3. 93Whose large blue eyes, fair locks, and snowy hands,
4. 94Might shake the Saintship of an Anchorite,
5. 95And long had fed his youthful appetite;
6. 96His goblets brimmed with every costly wine,
7. 97And all that mote to luxury invite,
8. 98Without a sigh he left, to cross the brine,
9. 99And traverse Paynim shores, and pass Earth's central line.

1. 100The sails were filled, and fair the light winds blew,
2. 101As glad to waft him from his native home;
3. 102And fast the white rocks faded from his view,
4. 103And soon were lost in circumambient foam:
5. 104And then, it may be, of his wish to roam
6. 105Repented he, but in his bosom slept
7. 106The silent thought, nor from his lips did come
8. 107One word of wail, whilst others sate and wept,
9. 108And to the reckless gales unmanly moaning kept.

1. 109But when the Sun was sinking in the sea
2. 110He seized his harp, which he at times could string,
3. 111And strike, albeit with untaught melody,
4. 112When deemed he no strange ear was listening:
5. 113And now his fingers o'er it he did fling,
6. 114And tuned his farewell in the dim twilight;
7. 115While flew the vessel on her snowy wing,
8. 116And fleeting shores receded from his sight,
9. 117Thus to the elements he poured his last "Good Night."