Tuesday, May 22, 2018

CHILDE HAROLD'S GOOD NIGHT.

by George Gordon Byron

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.

"Come hither, hither, my little page![1]
⁠Why dost thou weep and wail?
Or dost thou dread the billows' rage,
⁠Or tremble at the gale?
But dash the tear-drop from thine eye;
⁠Our ship is swift and strong:
Our fleetest falcon scarce can fly[2]
⁠More merrily along."[3]



4.

"Let winds be shrill, let waves roll high,[4]
⁠I fear not wave nor wind:
Yet marvel not, Sir Childe, that I
⁠Am sorrowful in mind;[5]
For I have from my father gone,
⁠A mother whom I love,
And have no friend, save these alone,
⁠But thee—and One above.


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.

"Come hither, hither, my staunch yeoman,[6]
⁠Why dost thou look so pale?
Or dost thou dread a French foeman?
⁠Or shiver at the gale?"—
'Deem'st thou I tremble for my life?
⁠Sir Childe, I'm not so weak;
But thinking on an absent wife
⁠Will blanch a faithful cheek.



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?'—
"Enough, enough, my yeoman good,[7]
⁠Thy grief let none gainsay;
But I, who am of lighter mood,
⁠Will laugh to flee away.



8.

"For who would trust the seeming sighs[8]
⁠Of wife or paramour?
Fresh feeres will dry the bright blue eyes
⁠We late saw streaming o'er.
For pleasures past I do not grieve,
⁠Nor perils gathering near;
My greatest grief is that I leave
⁠No thing that claims a tear.[9]


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,
⁠He'd tear me where he stands.[10][11]



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.
Welcome, welcome, ye dark-blue waves!
⁠And when you fail my sight,
Welcome, ye deserts, and ye caves!
⁠My native Land—Good Night!"

No comments: