Herself more sweetly rears the babe she bears, Who never quits the breast, no meaner passion shares. LXII. In marble-paved pavilion, where a spring While Gentleness her milder radiance throws The deeds that lurk beneath, and stain him with disgrace. It is not that yon hoary lengthening beard span, In bloodier acts conclude those who with blood began. LXIV. 'Mid many things most new to ear and eye But Peace abhorreth artificial joys, [destroys. And Pleasure, leagued with Pomp, the zest of both LXV. Fierce are Albania's children, yet they lack Than they in doubtful time of troublous need: 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 view'd 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 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 Dubious to trust where treachery might lurk: sore That those who loathe alike the Frank and Turk Might once again renew their ancient butcher-work. LXVIII. Vain fear! the Suliotes stretch'd the welcome hand, [swamp, Led them o'er rocks and past the dangerous, Kinder than polish'd slaves though not so bland, And piled the hearth and wrung their garments damp, lamp, And fill'd the bowl, and trimm'd the cheerful [had : And spread their fare; though homely, all they Such conduct bears Philanthropy's rare stampTo rest the weary and to soothe the sad, [bad. Doth lesson happier men, and shames at least the LXIX. It came to pass, that when he did address In war well season'd, and with labours tann'd, LXX. Where lone Utraikey forms its circling cove, Nor did he pass unmoved the gentle scene, For many a joy could he from Night's soft presence glean. LXXI. On the smooth shore the night-fires brightly blazed, The feast was done, the red wine circling fast, (28) 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 (29) his sabre from him cast, And bounding hand in hand, man link'd to man, Yelling their uncouth dirge, long daunced the kirtled clan. LXXII. Childe Harold at a little distance stood And view'd, 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 gleam'd, Their gestures nimble, dark eyes flashing free, The long wild locks that to their girdles stream❜d, While thus in concert they this lay half sang, half scream'd: (30) 1. (31) 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. 2. * Oh! who is more brave than a dark Suliote, And descends to the plain like the stream from the rock. 3. Shall the sons of Chimari, who never forgive What mark is so fair as the breast of a foe? 4. Macedonia sends forth her invincible race; For a time they abandon the cave and the chase : But those scarfs of blood-red shall be redder, be fore The sabre is sheathed and the battle is o'er. 5. Then the pirates of Parga that dwell by the waves, And teach the pale Franks what it is to be slaves, Shall leave on the beach the long galley and oar, And track to his covet the captive on shore. 6. I ask not the pleasures that riches supply, hair, And many a maid from her mother shall tear. |