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By the Rivers of Babylon We Sat Down and Wept �ڰͱ��׵ĺӱ���������������
Sonnet on Chillon ӽ��Ӻ
Maid of Athens, Ere We Part �ŵ��Ů��
So We'll Go No More A-Roving ���ǽ������ǻ�
When We Two Parted ���ǰ����������
She walks in Beauty �������������
Epistle to Augusta ��ݹ�˹��


By the Rivers of Babylon We Sat Down and Wept �ڰͱ��׵ĺӱ���������������

By the Rivers of Babylon We Sat Down and Wept

             1
We sat down and wept by the waters
  Of Babel, and thought of the day
When our foe, in the hue of his slaughters,
  Made Salem's high places his prey;
And ye, oh her desolate daughters!
  Were scattered all weeping away.

             2
While sadly we gazed on the river
  Which rolled on in freedom below,
They demanded the song; but, oh never
  That triumph the stranger shall know!
May this right hand be withered for ever,
  Ere it string our high harp for the foe!

             3
On the willow that harp is suspended,
  Oh Salem!  its sound should be free;
And the hour when thy glories were ended
  But left me that token of thee:
And ne'er shall its soft tones be blended
  With the voice of the spoiler by me! 
  
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Sonnet on Chillon ӽ��Ӻ

Sonnet on Chillon

Eternal Spirit of the chainless Mind!
     Brightest in dungeons, Liberty! thou art,
     For there thy habitation is the heart��
The heart which love of thee alone can bind;
And when thy sons to fetters are consign'd��
     To fetters, and the damp vault's dayless gloom,
     Their country conquers with their martyrdom,
And freedom's fame finds wings on every wind.

Chillon! thy prison is a holy place,
     And thy sad floor an altar��for t'was trod,
Until his very steps have left a trace
     Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod,
By Bonnivard! May none those marks efface!
     For they appeal from tyranny to God.
     
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Maid of Athens, Ere We Part �ŵ��Ů��

Maid of Athens, Ere We Part

Maid of Athens, ere we part,
Give, oh, give back my heart!
Or, since that has left my breast,
Keep it now, and take the rest!
Hear my vow before I go,
���؁0�6 �̦Ϧ�, �ҁ6�2�0�9 �6�0�æ��Ё6�6.

By those tresses unconfined,
Wooed by each Aegean wind;
By those lids whose jetty fringe
Kiss thy soft cheeks' blooming tinge;
By those wild eyes like the roe,
���؁0�6 �̦Ϧ�, �ҁ6�2�0�9 �6�0�æ��Ё6�6.

By that lip I long to taste;
By that zone-encircled waist;
By all the token-flowers that tell
What words can never speak so well;
By love's alternate joy and woe,
���؁0�6 �̦Ϧ�, �ҁ6�2�0�9 �6�0�æ��Ё6�6.

Maid of Athens! I am gone:
Think of me, sweet! when alone.
Though I fly to Istambol,
Athens holds my heart and soul:
Can I cease to love thee? No!
���؁0�6 �̦Ϧ�, �ҁ6�2�0�9 �6�0�æ��Ё6�6.

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So We'll Go No More A-Roving ���ǽ������ǻ�

So We'll Go No More A-Roving

So we'll go no more a-roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
And the moon be still as bright.

For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And Love itself have rest.

Though the night was made for loving,
And the day returns too soon,
Yet we'll go no more a-roving
By the light of the moon.

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When We Two Parted ���ǰ����������

When We Two Parted

When we two parted
    In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
    To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
    Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
    Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning
    Sunk chill on my brow��
It felt like the warning
    Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
    And light is thy fame:
I hear thy name spoken,
    And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
    A knell to mine ear;
A shudder comes o'er me��
    Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
    Who knew thee too well:
Long, long shall I rue thee,
    Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met��
    In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
    Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
    After long years,
How should I greet thee?
    With silence and tears. 

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She walks in Beauty �������������

She walks in Beauty

She walks in beauty, like the night
    Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
    Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
    Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
    Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
    Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
    How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
    So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
    But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
    A heart whose love is innocent!

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Epistle to Augusta ��ݹ�˹��

Epistle to Augusta

My sister! my sweet sister! if a name
Dearer and purer were, it should be thine;
Mountains and seas divide us, but I claim
No tears, but tenderness to answer mine:
Go where I will, to me thou art the same -
A loved regret which I would not resign.
There yet are two things in my destiny, -
A world to roam through, and a home with thee.

The first were nothing -had I still the last,
It were the haven of my happiness;
But other claims and other ties thou hast,
And mine is not the wish to make them less.
A strange doom is thy father's sons's, and past
Recalling, as it lies beyond redress;
Reversed for him our grandsire's fate of yore, -
He had no rest at sea, nor I on shore.

If my inheritance of storms hath been
In other elements, and on the rocks
Of perils, overlooked or unforeseen,
I have sustained my share of worldly shocks,
The fault was mine; nor do I seek to screen
My errors with defensive paradox;
I have been cunning in mine overthrow,
The careful pilot of my proper woe.

Mine were my faults, and mine be their reward,
My whole life was a contest, since the day
That gave me being, gave me that which marred
The gift, -a fate, or will, that walked astray;
And I at times have found the struggle hard,
And thought of shaking off my bonds of clay:
But now I fain would for a time survive,
If but to see what next can well arrive.

Kingdoms and empires in my little day
I have outlived, and yet I am not old;
And when I look on this, the petty spray
Of my own years of trouble, which have rolled
Like a wild bay of breakers, melts away:
Something -I know not what -does still uphold
A spirit of slight patience; -not in vain,
Even for its own sake, do we purchase pain.

Perhaps the workings of defiance stir
Within me, -or perhaps of cold despair,
Brought on when ills habitually recur, -
Perhaps a kinder clime, or purer air,
(For even to this may change of soul refer,
And with light armour we may learn to bear,)
Have taught me a strange quiet, which was not
The chief companion of a calmer lot.

I feel almost at times as I have felt
In happy childhood; trees, and flowers, and brooks,
Which do remember me of where I dwelt,
Ere my young mind was sacrificed to books,
Come as of yore upon me, and can melt
My heart with recognition of their looks;
And even at moments I could think I see
Some living thing to love -but none like thee.

Here are the Alpine landscapes which create
A fund for contemplation; -to admire
Is a brief feeling of a trivial date;
But something worthier do such scenes inspire.
Here to be lonely is not desolate,
For much I view which I could most desire,
And, above all, a lake I can behold
Lovelier, not dearer, than our own of old.

Oh that thou wert but with me! -but I grow
The fool of my own wishes, and forget
The solitude which I have vaunted so
Has lost its praise is this but one regret;
There may be others which I less may show, -
I am not of the plaintive mood, and yet
I feel an ebb in my philosophy,
And the tide rising in my altered eye.

I did remind thee of our own dear Lake,
By the old Hall which may be mine no more.
Leman's is fair; but think not I forsake
The sweet remembrance of a dearer shore;
Sad havoc Time must with my memory make,
Ere that or thou can fade these eyes before;
Though, like all things which I have loved, they are
Resigned for ever, or divided far.

The world is all before me; I but ask
Of Nature that with which she will comply -
It is but in her summer's sun to bask,
To mingle with the quiet of her sky,
To see her gentle face without a mask
And never gaze on it with apathy.
She was my early friend, and now shall be
My sister -till I look again on thee.

I can reduce all feelings but this one;
And that I would not; -for at length I see
Such scenes as those wherein my life begun.
The earliest -even the only paths for me -
Had I but sooner learnt the crowd to shun,
I had been better than I now can be;
The passions which have torn me would have slept:
I had not suffered, and thou hadst not wept.

With false Ambition what had I to do?
Little with Love, and least of all with Fame!
And yet they came unsought, and with me grew,
And made me all which they can make -a name.
Yet this was not the end I did pursue;
Surely I once beheld a nobler aim.
But all is over -I am one the more
To baffled millions which have gone before.

And for the future, this world's future may
From me demand but little of my care;
I have outlived myself by many a day:
Having survived so many things that were;
My years have been no slumber, but the prey
Of ceaseless vigils; for I had the share
Of life which might have filled a century,
Before its fourth in time had passed me by.

And for the remnant which may be to come,
I am content; and for the past I feel
Not thankless, -for within the crowded sum
Of struggles, happiness at times would steal,
And for the present, I would not benumb
My feelings farther. -Nor shall I conceal
That with all this I still can look around,
And worship Nature with a thought profound.

For thee, my own sweet sister, in thy heart
I know myself secure, as thou in mine;
We were and are -I am, even as thou art -
Beings who ne'er each other can resign;
It is the same, together or apart,
From life's commencement to its slow decline
We are entwined -let death come slow or fast,
The tie which bound the first endures the last!

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