The Works of Lord Byron, Volume 3 | Page 6

[First published, 1832.]
LINES WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM, AT MALTA.[e][4]
1.
As o'er the cold sepulchral stone?Some _name_ arrests the passer-by;?Thus, when thou view'st this page alone,?May _mine_ attract thy pensive eye!
2.
And when by thee that name is read,?Perchance in some succeeding year,?Reflect on _me_ as on the _dead_,?And think my _Heart_ is buried _here_.
Malta, _September_ 14, 1809.
[First published, _Childe Harold_, 1812 (4to).]
TO FLORENCE.[f]
1.
Oh Lady! when I left the shore,?The distant shore which gave me birth,?I hardly thought to grieve once more,?To quit another spot on earth:
2.
Yet here, amidst this barren isle,?Where panting Nature droops the head,?Where only thou art seen to smile,?I view my parting hour with dread.
3.
Though far from Albin's craggy shore,?Divided by the dark-blue main;?A few, brief, rolling seasons o'er,?Perchance I view her cliffs again:
4.
But wheresoe'er I now may roam,?Through scorching clime, and varied sea,?Though Time restore me to my home,?I ne'er shall bend mine eyes on thee:
5.
On thee, in whom at once conspire?All charms which heedless hearts can move,?Whom but to see is to admire,?And, oh! forgive the word--to love.
6.
Forgive the word, in one who ne'er?With such a word can more offend;?And since thy heart I cannot share,?Believe me, what I am, thy friend.
7.
And who so cold as look on thee,?Thou lovely wand'rer, and be less??Nor be, what man should ever be,?The friend of Beauty in distress?
8.
Ah! who would think that form had past?Through Danger's most destructive path,[g]?Had braved the death-winged tempest's blast,?And 'scaped a Tyrant's fiercer wrath?
9.
Lady! when I shall view the walls?Where free Byzantium once arose,?And Stamboul's Oriental halls?The Turkish tyrants now enclose;
10.
Though mightiest in the lists of fame,?That glorious city still shall be;?On me 'twill hold a dearer claim,?As spot of thy nativity:
11.
And though I bid thee now farewell,?When I behold that wondrous scene--?Since where thou art I may not dwell--?'Twill soothe to be where thou hast been.
_September_, 1809.
[First published, _Childe Harold_, 1812 (4to).]
STANZAS COMPOSED DURING A THUNDERSTORM.[h][5]
1.
Chill and mirk is the nightly blast,?Where Pindus' mountains rise,?And angry clouds are pouring fast?The vengeance of the skies.
2.
Our guides are gone, our hope is lost,?And lightnings, as they play,?But show where rocks our path have crost,?Or gild the torrent's spray.
3.
Is yon a cot I saw, though low??When lightning broke the gloom--?How welcome were its shade!--ah, no!?'Tis but a Turkish tomb.
4.
Through sounds of foaming waterfalls,?I hear a voice exclaim--?My way-worn countryman, who calls?On distant England's name.
5.
A shot is fired--by foe or friend??Another--'tis to tell?The mountain-peasants to descend,?And lead us where they dwell.
6.
Oh! who in such a night will dare?To tempt the wilderness??And who 'mid thunder-peals can hear?Our signal of distress?
7.
And who that heard our shouts would rise?To try the dubious road??Nor rather deem from nightly cries?That outlaws were abroad.
8.
Clouds burst, skies flash, oh, dreadful hour!?More fiercely pours the storm!?Yet here one thought has still the power?To keep my bosom warm.
9.
While wandering through each broken path,?O'er brake and craggy brow;?While elements exhaust their wrath,?Sweet Florence, where art thou?
10.
Not on the sea, not on the sea--?Thy bark hath long been gone:?Oh, may the storm that pours on me,?Bow down my head alone!
11.
Full swiftly blew the swift Siroc,?When last I pressed thy lip;?And long ere now, with foaming shock,?Impelled thy gallant ship.
12.
Now thou art safe; nay, long ere now?Hast trod the shore of Spain;?'Twere hard if aught so fair as thou?Should linger on the main.
13.
And since I now remember thee?In darkness and in dread,?As in those hours of revelry?Which Mirth and Music sped;
14.
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;
15.
Then think upon Calypso's isles,?Endeared by days gone by;?To others give a thousand smiles,?To me a single sigh.
16.
And when the admiring