LX. Just at this season Ramazani's fast Through the long day its penance did maintain : Now all was bustle, and the menial train LXI. Here woman's voice is never heard: apart, And joyful in a mother's gentlest cares, Blest cares! all other feelings far above! Herself more sweetly rears the babe she bears, Who never quits the breast, no meaner passion shares, LXII. In marble-paved pavilion, where a spring ALI reclined, a man of war and woes; Yet in his lineaments ye cannot trace, While Gentleness her milder radiance throws Along that aged venerable face, The deeds that lurk beneath, and stain him with disgrace. LXIII. It is not that yon hoary lengthening beard In years, have marked him with a tyger's tooth; LXIV, 'Mid many things most new to ear and eye Of Wealth and Wantonness, the choice retreat Of sated Grandeur from the city's noise: And were it humbler it in sooth were sweet; But Peace abhorreth artificial joys, And Pleasure, leagued with Pomp, the zest of both destroys. LXV. Fierce are Albania's children, yet they the lack Their native fastnesses not more secure Than they in doubtful time of troublous need: Their wrath how deadly! but their friendship sure, When Gratitude or Valour bids them bleed, Unshaken rushing on, where'er their chief may lead. LXVI. Childe Harold saw them in their chieftain's tower Thronging to war in splendour and success; And after viewed them, when, within their power, That saddening hour when bad men hotlier press: When less barbarians would have cheered him less, And fellow-countrymen have stood aloof 27 In aught that tries the heart, how few withstand the proof! LXVII. It clianced that adverse winds once drove his bark Full on the coast of Suli's shaggy shore, Yet for awhile the mariners forbore, Dubious to trust where treachery might lurk : At length they ventured forth, though doubting sore That those who loathe alike the Frank and Truk Might once again renew, their ancient butcher-work. LXVIII. Vain fear! the Suliotes stretched the welcome hand, To rest the weary and to soothe the sad, Doth lesson happier men, and shames at least the bad. It came to pass, LXIX. that when he did address Himself to quit at length this mountain-land, To traverse Acarnania's forest wide, In war well seasoned, and with labours tanned, And from his further bank, Ætolia's wolds espied. LXX. Where lone Utraikey forms its circling cove, Nor did he pass unmoved the gentle scene, For many a joy could he, from Night's soft presence glean, LXXI. On the smooth shore the night-fires brightly blazed, The feast was done, the red wine circling fast, 28 And he that unawares had there ygazed With gaping wonderment had stared aghast; For ere night's midmost, stillest hour was past The native revels of the troop began; Each Palikar 29 his sabre from him cast, And bounding hand in hand, man linked to man, Yelling their uncouth dirge, long danced the kirtled clart, LXXII. Childe Harold at a little distance stood And viewed, but not displeased, the revelrie, Nor hated harmless mirth, however rude: In sooth, it was no vulgar sight to see |