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Athens, ere we part,

Give, oh give me back my heart!

Maid of Athens.

Had sigh'd to many, though he loved but one.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto i. Stanza 5.

If ancient tales say true, nor wrong these holy men.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto i. Stanza 7.

Maidens, like moths, are ever caught by glare,

And Mammon wins his way where seraphs might despair.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto i. Stanza 9.

Such partings break the heart they fondly hope to heal.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto i. Stanza 10.

Might shake the saintship of an anchorite.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto i. Stanza 11.

Adieu! adieu! my native shore

Fades o'er the waters blue.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto i. Stanza 13.

My native land, good night!

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto i. Stanza 13.

O Christ! it is a goodly sight to see

What Heaven hath done for this delicious land.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto i. Stanza 15.

In hope to merit heaven by making earth a hell.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto i. Stanza 20.

By Heaven! it is a splendid sight to see

For one who hath no friend, no brother there.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto i. Stanza 40.

Still from the fount of joy's delicious springs

Some bitter o'er the flowers its bubbling venom flings.[540:1]

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto i. Stanza 82.

[541]

War, war is still the cry,β€”"war even to the knife!"[541:1]

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto i. Stanza 86.

Gone, glimmering through the dream of things that were.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto ii. Stanza 2.

A schoolboy's tale, the wonder of an hour!

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto ii. Stanza 2.

Dim with the mist of years, gray flits the shade of power.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto ii. Stanza 2.

The dome of thought, the palace of the soul.[541:2]

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto ii. Stanza 6.

Ah, happy years! once more who would not be a boy?

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto ii. Stanza 23.

None are so desolate but something dear,

Dearer than self, possesses or possess'd

A thought, and claims the homage of a tear.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto ii. Stanza 24.

But 'midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men,

To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess,

And roam along, the world's tired denizen,

With none who bless us, none whom we can bless.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto ii. Stanza 26.

Coop'd in their winged, sea-girt citadel.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto ii. Stanza 28.

Fair Greece! sad relic of departed worth!

Immortal, though no more! though fallen, great!

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto ii. Stanza 73.

Hereditary bondsmen! know ye not,

Who would be free, themselves must strike the blow?

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto ii. Stanza 76.

A thousand years scarce serve to form a state:

An hour may lay it in the dust.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto ii. Stanza 84.

Land of lost gods and godlike men.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto ii. Stanza 85.

Where'er we tread, 't is haunted, holy ground.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto ii. Stanza 88.

Age shakes Athena's tower, but spares gray Marathon.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto ii. Stanza 88.

[542]

Ada! sole daughter of my house and heart.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 1.

Once more upon the waters! yet once more!

And the waves bound beneath me as a steed

That knows his rider.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 2.

I am as a weed

Flung from the rock, on Ocean's foam to sail

Where'er the surge may sweep, the tempest's breath prevail.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 2.

He who grown aged in this world of woe,

In deeds, not years, piercing the depths of life,[542:1]

So that no wonder waits him.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 5.

Years steal

Fire from the mind as vigour from the limb,

And life's enchanted cup but sparkles near the brim.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 8.

There was a sound of revelry by night,

And Belgium's capital had gather'd then

Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright

The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men.

A thousand hearts beat happily; and when

Music arose with its voluptuous swell,

Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again,

And all went merry as a marriage bell.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 21.

But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell!

Did ye not hear it?β€”No! 't was but the wind,

Or the car rattling o'er the stony street.

On with the dance! let joy be unconfined;

No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet

To chase the glowing hours with flying feet.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 22.

He rush'd into the field, and foremost fighting fell.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 23.

And there was mounting in hot haste.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 25.

[543]

Or whispering with white lips, "The foe! They come! they come!"

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 25.

Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves,

Over the unreturning brave.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 27.

Battle's magnificently stern array.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 28.

And thus the heart will break, yet brokenly live on.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 32.

But quiet to quick bosoms is a hell.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 42.

He who ascends to mountain-tops shall find

The loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow;

He who surpasses or subdues mankind

Must look down on the hate of those below.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 45.

All tenantless, save to the crannying wind.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 47.

The castled crag of Drachenfels

Frowns o'er the wide and winding Rhine.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 55.

He had kept

The whiteness of his soul, and thus men o'er him wept.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 57.

But there are wanderers o'er Eternity

Whose bark drives on and on, and anchor'd ne'er shall be.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 70.

By the blue rushing of the arrowy Rhone.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 71.

I live not in myself, but I become

Portion of that around me;[543:1] and to me

High mountains are a feeling, but the hum

Of human cities torture.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 72.

This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing

To waft me from distraction.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 85.

On the ear

Drops the light drip of the suspended oar.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 86.

[544]

All is concentr'd in a life intense,

Where not a beam, nor air, nor leaf is lost,

But hath a part of being.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 89.

In solitude, where we are least alone.[544:1]

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 90.

The sky is changed,β€”and such a change! O night

And storm and darkness! ye are wondrous strong,

Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light

Of a dark eye in woman! Far along,

From peak to peak, the rattling crags among,

Leaps the live thunder.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 92.

Exhausting thought,

And hiving wisdom with each studious year.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 107.

Sapping a solemn creed with solemn sneer.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 107.

I have not loved the world, nor the world me.[544:2]

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 113.

I stood

Among them, but not of them; in a shroud

Of thoughts which were not their thoughts.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 113.

I stood in Venice on the Bridge of Sighs,

A palace and a prison on each hand.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 1.

Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 1.

Venice once was dear,

The pleasant place of all festivity,

The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 3.

The thorns which I have reap'd are of the tree

I planted; they have torn me, and I bleed.

I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 10.

[545]

Oh for one hour of blind old Dandolo,

The octogenarian chief, Byzantium's conquering foe![545:1]

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 12.

There are some feelings time cannot benumb,

Nor torture shake.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 19.

Striking the electric chain wherewith we are darkly bound.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 23.

The cold, the changed, perchance the dead, anew,

The mourn'd, the loved, the lost,β€”too many, yet how few!

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 24.

Parting day

Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues

With a new colour as it gasps away,

The last still loveliest, tillβ€”'t is gone, and all is gray.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 29.

The Ariosto of the North.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 40.

Italia! O Italia! thou who hast

The fatal gift of beauty.[545:2]

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 42.

Fills

The air around with beauty.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 49.

Let these describe the undescribable.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 53.

The starry Galileo with his woes.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 54.

Ungrateful Florence! Dante sleeps afar,

Like Scipio, buried by the upbraiding shore.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 57.

The poetry of speech.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 58.

The hell of waters! where they howl and hiss,

And boil in endless torture.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 69.

Then farewell Horace, whom I hated so,β€”

Not for thy faults, but mine.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 77.

[546]

O Rome! my country! city of the soul!

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 78.

The Niobe of nations! there she stands.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 79.

Yet, Freedom! yet thy banner, torn, but flying,

Streams like the thunder-storm against the wind.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 98.

Heaven gives its favouritesβ€”early death.[546:1]

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 102.

History, with all her volumes vast,

Hath but one page.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 108.

Man!

Thou pendulum betwixt a smile and tear.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 109.

Tully was not so eloquent as thou,

Thou nameless column with the buried base.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 110.

Egeria! sweet creation of some heart

Which found no mortal resting-place so fair

As thine ideal breast.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 115.

The nympholepsy of some fond despair.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 115.

Thou wert a beautiful thought, and softly bodied forth.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 115.

Alas! our young affections run to waste,

Or water but the desert.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 120.

I see before me the gladiator lie.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 140.

There were his young barbarians all at play;

There

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