There chiefly I sought thee, there only I found thee; SONG OF THE SOUTH-SEA ISLANDERS I. How pleasant were the songs of Toobonai, And hear the warbling birds! the damsel said: We'll cull the flowers that grow above the dead, For these most bloom where rests the warrior's head; And we will sit in twilight's face, and see The sweet moon glancing through the tooa tree, Shall sadly please us as we lean below; Or climb the steep, and view the surf in vain Wrestle with rocky giants o'er the main, Which spurn in columns back the baffled spray. Who, from toil and tumult of their lives, Steal to look down where nought but ocean strives! ΙΟ And smooths his ruffled mane beneath the moon. 20 II. Yes-from the sepulchre we'll gather flowers, And, wet and shining from the sportive toil, Anoint our bodies with the fragrant oil, And plait our garlands gather'd from the grave, And wear the wreaths that sprung from out the brave. III. But now the dance is o'er-yet stay awhile; 30 40 50 How lovely are your forms! how every sense Which fling their fragrance far athwart the deep! We too will see Licoo; but-oh! my heart! What do I say?-to-morrow we depart ! ON THIS DAY I COMPLETE MY THIRTYSIXTH YEAR MISSOLONGHI, Jan. 22, 1824. 'TIS time this heart should be unmoved, Since others it hath ceased to move : My days are in the yellow leaf; The flowers and fruits of love are gone; The fire that on my bosom preys The hope, the fear, the jealous care, But 'tis not thus-and 'tis not here Such thoughts should shake my soul, nor now, Where glory decks the hero's bier, Or binds his brow. 60 ΙΟ 20 The sword, the banner, and the field, Awake! (not Greece-she is awake!) Tread those reviving passions down, If thou regret'st thy youth, why live? Seek out-less often sought than found— A soldier's grave, for thee the best; Then look around, and choose thy ground, 30 40 NOTES CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE The first two cantos of Childe Harold,' it would seem, were written incidentally and their publication was almost by accident. On his return from his first journey abroad Byron brought home a poem, the Imitation of Horace,' with which he hoped to follow up the success of 'English Bards and Scotch Reviewers.' It was quite with indifference that he informed his friend Dallas that he had written, while abroad, also "a great many stanzas in Spenser's measure, relative to the countries he had visited." These stanzas apparently he regarded as of little worth and had scarcely thought of publishing. Dallas, however, persuaded him to publish them; and so 'Childe Harold' saw the light. The poem thus composed and printed owed little, accordingly, save its stanza, to literary tradition, and seems to be wholly original and spontaneous in design. External unity it has none, save in the perfunctory presence and personality of the Childe himself. There is enough of narrative, however, to suggest the epic genre, enough of description to suggest the didactic and idyllic poetry of the Eighteenth century, and enough of the movement and emotion of song to suggest the lyric. Indeed the real unity of the poem is in the personality of the poet, and the poet here as elsewhere is constantly and passionately personal and subjective. So that 'Childe Harold' is more of a lyrical poem (in this restricted and modern sense) than anything else. It seems, indeed, superficially to answer to the description of "a glorified guide-book” and “a rhythmical diorama," which has been applied to it. But the presence of a potent poetic personality throughout keeps it always in the domain of high poetry, and renders it interesting and com |