VIII. Yet oft-time in his maddest mirthful mood Strange pangs would flash along Childe Harold's brow, But this none knew, nor haply car'd to know ; Whate'er his grief mote be, which he could not controul. And none did love him-though to hall and bower Yea! none did love him-not his lemans dear- Childe Harold had a mother-not forgot, Before his weary pilgrimage begun : If friends he had, he bade adieu to none. Yet deem not thence his breast a breast of steel; A few dear objects, will in sadness feel Such partings break the heart they fondly hope to heal. XI. His house, his home, his heritage, his lands, Might shake the saintship of an anchorite, And long he fed his youthful appetite! His goblets brimm'd with every costly wine, And all that mote to luxury invite, Without a sigh he left to cross the brine, And traverse Payaim shores, and pass earth's central line. XII. The sails were filled, and fair the light winds blew, The silent thought, nor from his lips did come But when the sun was sinking in the sea Thus to the elements he pour'd his last "Good Night." 1. "Adieu, adieu! my native shore The Night-winds sigh-the breakers roar, And shrieks the wild seamew. Yon Sun that sets upon the sea Farewell awhile to him and thee, 2. "A few short hours, and He will rise Its hearth so desolate; Wild weeds are gathering on the wall; My dogs howl at the gate. 3. "Come hither, hither, my little page! But dash the tear-drop from thine eye; Our fleetest falcon scarce can fly 4. "Let winds be shrill, let waves roll high, I fear not wave nor wind; Yet marvel not, Sir Childe, that I Am sorrowful in mind; For I have from my father gone, A mother whom I love, And have no friend save these alone 5. "My father bless'd me fervently, If I thy guileless bosom had Mine own would not be dry. 6. "Come hither, hither my staunch yeoman, Why dost thou look so pale? Or dost thou dread a French foeman? "Deem'st thou I tremble for my life? But thinking on an absent wife 7. "My spouse and boys dwell near thy hall, Along the bordering lake, And when they on their father call' 8. "For who would trust seeming sighs Fresh feres will dry the bright blue eyes Nor perils gathering near; 9. "And now I'm in the world alone, But why should I for others groan, 10. "With thee, my bark, I'll swiftly go Nor care what land thou bear'st me to Welcome, welcome, ye dark-blue waves! And when you fail my sight, Welcome, ye deserts, and ye caves! My native Land-Good Night!" XIV. On, on the vessel flies, the land is gone, And soon on board the Lusian pilots leap, And steer 'twixt fertile shores where yet few rustics reap XV. Oh, Christ! it is a goodly sight to see What Heaven hath done for this delicious land! What fruits of fragrance blush on every tree! What goodly prospects o'er the hills expand! But man would mar them with an impious hand: And when the Almighty lifts his fiercest scourge 'Gainst those who most trausgress his high command With treble vengeance will his hot shafts urge Gaul's locust host, aud earth from fellest foemen purge XVI. What beauties doth Lisboa first unfold! But whoso entereth within this town, [unkurt. Though shent with Egypt's plague, unkempt, unwash'd, |