I climb the highest cliff; I hear the sound Of dashing waves; I gaze intent around; I mark the gray cope, and the hollowness Of heaven, and the great sun, that comes to bless...
Oh, no; I would not leave thee, my sweet home, Decked with the mantling woodbine and the rose, And slender woods that the still scene inclose, For yon magnificent and ample dome[1]...
So ends Childe Harold his last pilgrimage! Above the Malian surge he stood, and cried, Liberty! and the shores, from age to age Renowned, and Sparta's woods and rocks, replied,...
Oh! they shall ne'er forget thee, they who knew Thy soul benevolent, sincere, and true; The poor thy kindness cheered, thy bounty fed, Whom age left shivering in its dreariest shed;...
Lay down thy pilgrim staff upon this heap, And till the morning of redemption sleep, Old wayfarer of earth! From youth to age, Long, but not weary, was thy pilgrimage,...
Come to these peaceful seats, and think no more Of cold, of midnight watchings, or the roar Of Ocean, tossing on his restless bed! Come to these peaceful seats, ye who have bled...
Oh! hide those tempting eyes, that faultless form, Those looks with feeling and with nature warm; The neck, the softly-swelling bosom hide, Nor, wanton gales, blow the light vest aside;...
As one who, long by wasting sickness worn, Weary has watched the lingering night, and heard Unmoved the carol of the matin bird Salute his lonely porch; now first at morn...
Look, Christian, on thy Bible, and that glass That sheds its sand through minutes, hours, and days, And years; it speaks not, yet, methinks, it says, To every human heart: so mortals pass...
Perish! Almighty Justice cried, And struck the avenging blow, And Europe shouts from side to side, The tyrant is laid low! Said not his heart, More blood shall stream Around my sovereign throne?...
Lo! where youth and beauty lie, Cold within the tomb! As the spring's first violets die, Withered in their bloom. O'er the young and buried bride, Let the cypress wave:...