When the box of Pandora was open'd on And Misery's triumph commenced over Hope was left, was she not? - but the My own dark thoughts I cannot shun, The poorest, veriest wretch on earth And care not for Hope, who are certain of May smile in joy or soothe in woe; But friend or leman I have none, 30 40 Of what we are, and what we 've been, woe But mine, alas! has stood the blow; And who that dear loved one may be, I've tried another's fetters too 50 60 'T would soothe to take one lingering view, Yet wish I not those eyes to weep His home, his hope, his youth are gone, LINES TO MR. HODGSON WRITTEN ON BOARD THE LISBON PACKET HUZZA! Hodgson, we are going, Our embargo's off at last; Bend the canvass o'er the mast. Oh, may the storm that pours on me, Full swiftly blew the swift Siroc, Now thou art safe; nay, long ere now And since I now remember thee Which mirth and music sped; Do thou, amid the fair white walls, If Cadiz yet be free, At times from out her latticed halls Look o'er the dark blue sea; Then think upon Calypso's isles, And when the admiring circle mark A half-form'd tear, a transient spark Again thou 'lt smile, and blushing shun Nor own for once thou thought'st on one, Who ever thinks on thee. Though smile and sigh alike are vain, STANZAS WRITTEN IN PASSING THE AMBRACIAN GULF 40 50 60 70 THROUGH cloudless skies, in silvery sheen, Full beams the moon on Actium's coast; And on these waves, for Egypt's queen, And now upon the scene I look, The azure grave of many a Roman; Florence! whom I will love as well Sweet Florence! those were pleasant times, Though Fate forbids such things to be, But would not lose thee for a world. 'THE SPELL IS BROKE, THE CHARM IS FLOWN' WRITTEN AT ATHENS, JANUARY 16, 1810 THE spell is broke, the charm is flown! Each lucid interval of thought Recalls the woes of Nature's charter; And he that acts as wise men ought, But lives, as saints have died, a martyr. [First published, 1812.] THE GIRL OF CADIZ [This poem stood in the original manuscript of Childe Harold in the place of the stanzas of Canto I. inscribed To Inez.] Он never talk again to me Of northern climes and British ladies; It has not been your lot to see, Like me, the lovely girl of Cadiz. Although her eye be not of blue, Nor fair her locks, like English lasses, How far its own expressive hue The languid azure eye surpasses! Prometheus-like, from heaven she stole The fire, that through those silken lashes In darkest glances seems to roll, In lengthen'd flow her raven tresses, You'd swear each clustering lock could feel, And curl'd to give her neck caresses. Our English maids are long to woo, Their lips are slow at Love's confession: But, born beneath a brighter sun, For love ordain'd the Spanish maid is, And who, when fondly, fairly won, Enchants you like the Girl of Cadiz ? The Spanish maid is no coquette, Nor joys to see a lover tremble, And if she love, or if she hate, Alike she knows not to dissemble. Her heart can ne'er be bought or sold Howe'er it beats, it beats sincerely; And, though it will not bend to gold, 21 30 "T were hard to say who fared the best: Sad mortals! thus the Gods still plague you! He lost his labour, I my jest; For he was drown'd, and I've the ague. May 9, 1810. [First published, 1812.] 'MAID OF ATHENS, ERE WE PART' Ζώη μου, σάς ἀγαπῶ, [Supposed to be Theresa Macri, who afterwards married Mr. Black, an Englishman.] MAID of Athens, ere we part, By those tresses unconfined, By those lids whose jetty fringe By that lip I long to taste; By that zone-encircled waist; |