203

CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE.

Flocks play, trees ■wave, streams flow, the moun-tain fir

Nodding above; behold black Acheron 1 *

Once consecrated to the sepulchre.

Pluto ! if this be hell I look upon,

CloRe shamed Elysium’s gates, my shade shallseek for none.

LII.

Ne city’s towers pollute the lovely view;

Unseen is Yanina, though not remote,

Veil ’d by the screen of hills: here men are few,Scanty the hamlet, rare the lonely eot;

But, peering down each precipice, the goatBrowseth; and, pensive o’er his scatter’d flock,The little shepherd in his white capote fDoth lean his boyish form along the rock,

Dr in his cave awaits the tempest s short-livedshock.

Liir.

Oh! where, Dodona ! is thine aged grove,Prophetic fount, and oracle divine?

Vfhat valley echoed the response of Jove ?

What trace remaineth of the Thunderer’sshrine ?

All, all forgotten—and Bhall man repineThat his frail bonds to fleeting life are broke!Oease, fool! the fate of jrods may well be thine:Wouldst thou survive the marble or the oak ?when nations, tongues, and worlds must sink be-neath the stroke!

LIV.

Epirus’ bounds recede, and mountains fail:

Tired of up-gazing still, the wearied eyeReposes gladly on as smooth a val®

As ever Spring yclad in grassy die:

E’en on a plain no humble beauties lie,

Where some bold river breaks the long expanse,And woods along the banks are waving high,

. Whose shadows in the glassy waters dance,

Dr with the moonbeam sleep in midnight’s solemntrance.

LV.

The sun had sunk behind vast Tomerit tThe Laos wide and tierce came roaring by: §

Tbe shades of wonted night were gathering yet,When, down the steep banks winding warily,Child© Harold saw. like meteors in the sky,

The glittering minarets of Tepalen,

Whose walls o’erlook the stream; and drawing

TT , ni * h ’

c, *16 heard the busy hum of warrior-menCelling the breeze that sigh’d along the lengthen-ing glen.

Amidst no common pomp the despot sate.

While busy preparation shook the court,

Slaves , eunuchs, soldiers, guests, and santonswait;

Within, a palace, and without, a fort;

Here men of every clime appear to make resort,

LVil.

Richly caparison'd, a ready rowOf armfed horse, and many a warlike store,Circled the wide-extending court below;

Above, strange groups adorn’d the corridore;And oft-times through the area's echoing door,Some high-capp’d Tartar spurr’d his steedaway:

The Turk, the Greek, the Albanian , and thoMoor,

Here mingled in their many-hued array,

While the deep war-drum’s. sound announced theclose of day.

LVIII.

The wild Albanian kirtled to his knee,

With shawl-girt head and ornamented gun,

And gold-embroider’d garments, fair to see;

The crimson-scarfed men of Macedon;

The Delhi with his cap of terror on,

And crooked glaive; the lively, supple Greek;And swarthy Nubia’s mutilated son!

The bearded Turk, that rarely deigns to speak,Master of all around, too potent to be meek,

LIX.

Are mix’d conspicuous: some recline in groups,Scanning the motley scene that varies round;There some grave Moslem to devotion stoops,And some that smoke, and some that play, arefound;

Here the Albanian proudly treads the ground;Half-whispering there the Greek is heard toprate:

Hark! from the mosque the nightly solemnsound,

The Muezzin’s call doth shake the minaret,

“ There is no god but God !—to prayer—lo l God is great!”

LX.

Just at thi3 season Ramazani’s fastThrough the long day its penanoe did maintain:But when the lingering twilight hour was past.Revel and feast assumed the rule again;

Now all was bustle, and the menial trainPrepared and spread the plenteous boardwithin;

The vacant gallery now seem’d made in vain,But from the chambers came the mingling din.As page and slave anon were passing out and in.

He pass’d the sacred nviram’s silent tower,And underneath the wide o’erarching gatepurvey’d the dwelling of this chief of power,where all around proclaim’d his high estate.

Here woman’s voice is never heard; apart,

And scarce permitted, guarded, veil’d, to move,She yields to one her person and her heart.Tamed to her cage, nor feels a wish to rove;

Now called Kalamas.

J Albanese cloak,j Anciently Mount Tomarus.

^5 The river Laos was full at the time the author passed it; and, immediately above Tepaleen, was toeye as wide as the Thames at Westminster; at least in the opinion of the author and his fellowjjvefler. In the summer it must be much narrower. It certainly is the finest river in the Levant:either Achelous , Alpheus, Acheron, Scamander, nor Cayster, approached it in breadth or beauty.