Childe Harold's Pilgrimage (With Byron's Biography). Lord Byron. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Lord Byron
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from that mother he did shun; A sister whom he loved, but saw her not31 Before his weary pilgrimage begun: If friends he had, he bade adieu to none.ad Yet deem not thence his breast a breast of steel:ae32 Ye, who have known what 'tis to dote upon A few dear objects, will in sadness feel Such partings break the heart they fondly hope to heal.

      XI.

      XII.

      XIII.

      But when the Sun was sinking in the sea

       He seized his harp, which he at times could string,

       And strike, albeit with untaught melody,

       When deemed he no strange ear was listening:

       And now his fingers o'er it he did fling,

       And tuned his farewell in the dim twilight;

       While flew the vessel on her snowy wing,

       And fleeting shores receded from his sight,

      CHILDE HAROLD'S GOOD NIGHT.

      1.

      "Adieu, adieu! my native shore

       Fades o'er the waters blue;

       The night-winds sigh, the breakers roar,

       And shrieks the wild sea-mew.

       Yon Sun that sets upon the sea

       We follow in his flight;

       Farewell awhile to him and thee,

       My native Land—Good Night!

      2.

      "A few short hours and He will rise

       To give the Morrow birth;

       And I shall hail the main and skies,

       But not my mother Earth.

       Deserted is my own good Hall,

       Its hearth is desolate;

       Wild weeds are gathering on the wall;

       My Dog howls at the gate.

      3.

      4.

      5.

      'My father blessed me fervently,

       Yet did not much complain;

       But sorely will my mother sigh

       Till I come back again.'—

       "Enough, enough, my little lad!

       Such tears become thine eye;

       If I thy guileless bosom had,

       Mine own would not be dry.

      6.

      7.

      'My spouse and boys dwell near thy hall,

       Along the bordering Lake,

       And when they on their father call,

       What answer shall she make?'—

      8.

      9.

      "And now I'm in the world alone,

       Upon the wide, wide sea:

       But why should I for others groan,

       When none will sigh for me?

       Perchance my Dog will whine in vain,

       Till fed by stranger hands;

       But long ere I come back again,

      10.

      "With thee, my bark, I'll swiftly go

       Athwart the foaming brine;

       Nor care what land thou bear'st me to,

       So not again to mine.