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A crimson cloud it spreads and glows,
But shall return to whence it rose;
When 'tis full 'twill burst asunder —
Never yet was heard such thunder
As then shall shake the world with

wonder —
Never yet was seen such lightning
As o'er heaven shall then be bright'ning!
Like the Wormwood Star foretold

By the sainted Seer of old, Show'ring down a fiery flood, Turning rivers into blood.1

D.

The Chief has fallen, but not by you,

Vanquishers of Waterloo!

When the soldier citizen

Swayed not o'er his fellow-men —

Save in deeds that led them on

Where Glory smiled on Freedom's son —

Who, of all the despots banded,

With that youthful chief competed?

Who could boast o'er France de-
feated,

Till lone Tyranny commanded?
Till, goaded by Ambition's sting,
The Hero sunk into the King?
Then he fell: — so perish all,
'Who would men by man enthral!

m.

And thou, too, of the snow-white plume 1 Whose realm refused thee ev'n a tomb;J Better hadst thou still been leading France o'er hosts of hirelings bleeding,

■ See Rev. Chap. viii. V. y, etc., "The first angel mounded, and there followed hail and tire mingled with blood," etc. V. 8, "And the second angel sounded, and as it were a great mountain burning with fire was cast into the sea: and the third part of the sea became blood," etc. V. io, "And the third angel sounded, and there fdl a great star from heaven, burning as it were a lamp, and it fell upon the third part of the rivers, and upon the fountains of waters." V. Ii, "And the name of the star is called Wormvuod: and the third part of the waters became ■jxjnrrjrvod; and many men died of the waters, becau.se they were made bitter."

1 Murat's remains are .said to have been torn from the grave and burnt. ["Poor dear Murat, what an end ... I His white plume used to be a rallying point in battle, like Henry the Fourth's. He refused a confessor and a bandage; so would neither suffer his soul or body to be bandaged." — Letter to Moore, November 4, Isis-1

Than sold thyself to death and shame

For a meanly royal name;

Such as he of Naples wears,

Who thy blood-bought title bears.

Little didst thou deem, when dashing On thy war-horse through the ranks, Like a stream which burst its banks,

While helmets cleft, and sabres clashing,

Shone and shivered fast around thee —
Of the fate at last which found thee:
Was that haughty plume Laid low
By a slave's dishonest blow?
Once — as the Moon sways o'er the
tide,

It rolled in air, the warrior's guide
Through the smoke-created night
Of the black and sulphurous fight,
The soldier raised his seeking eye
To catch that crest's ascendancy, —
And, as it onward rolling rose,
So moved his heart upon our foes.
There, where Death's brief pang was
quickest,

And the battle's wreck lay thickest,
Strewed beneath the advancing banner

Of the eagle's burning crest — (There with thunder-clouds to fan her,

Who could then her wing arrest —

Victory beaming from her breast ?) While the broken line enlarging

Fell, or fled along the plain;
There be sure was Murat charging I

There he ne'er shall charge again!

IV.

O'er glories gone the invaders march, Weeps Triumph o'er each levelled

arch — But let Freedom rejoice, With her heart in her voice; But, her hand on her sword, Doubly shall she be adored; France hath twice too well been taught The "moral lesson" 1 dearly bought — Her safetv sits not on a throne, With Capet or Napoleon I But in equal rights and laws, Hearts and hands in one great cause —

1 ["Write, Britain, write the moral lesson down." ■

— Scott's Field of Waterloo, Conclusion, stanza vi. line 3.]

Freedom, such as God hath given
Unto all beneath his heaven,
With their breath, and from their birth,
Though guilt would sweep it from the
earth;

With a fierce and lavish hand
Scattering nations' wealth like sand;
Pouring nations' blood like water,
In imperial seas of slaughter!

V.

But the heart and the mind,
And the voice of mankind,
Shall arise in communion —
And who shall resist that proud union?
The time is past when swords subdued—
Man may die — the soul's renewed:
Even in this low world of care
Freedom ne'er shall want an heir;
Millions breathe but to inherit
Her, for ever bounding, spirit —
When once more her hosts assemble,
Tyrants shall believe and tremble —
Smile they at this idle threat?
Crimson tears will follow yet.1

[First published, Morning Chronicle,
March 15, 1816.]

STANZAS FOR MUSIC.

There be none of Beauty's daughters

With a magic like thee;
And like music on the waters

Is thy sweet voice to me:
When, as if its sound were causing
The charmed Ocean's pausing

1 [" Talking of politics, as Caleb Quotcm says, pray look at the conclusion of my 1 Ode on Waterloo,' written in the year 1815, and comparing it with the Duke de Bcrri's catastrophe in 1820, tell me if I have not as good a right to the character of ' Vales,' in both senses of the word, as Fitzgerald and Coleridge?

'Crimson tears will follow yet;' —

and have not they?" — Letter to Murray, April 24, 1820.

In the Preface to The Tyrant's Downfall, etc., 1814. W. L. Fitzgerald "begs leave to refer his reader to the dales of his Xapoleonics ... to prove his legitimate title to the prophetical meaning of Vales." Coleridge claimed to have foretold the restoration of the Bourbons in his Rifgraphia Lilcraria (cap. x.).J

The waves lie still and gleaming.
And the lulled winds seem dreaming:

2.

And the Midnight Moon is weaving
Her bright chain o'er the deep;

Whose breast is gently heaving,
As an infant's asleep:

So the spirit bows before thee,

To listen and adore thee;

With a full but soft emotion,

Like the swell of Summer's ocean.

March 28 [1816]. [First published, Poems, 1816.]

ON THE STAR OF "THE LEGION
OF HONOUR."

[FROM THE FRENCH.]
I.

Star of the brave! — whose beam hath shed

Such glory o'er the quick and dead —
Thou radiant and adored deceit!
Which millions rushed in arms to

greet, —
Wild meteor of immortal birth!
Why rise in Heaven to set on Earth?

2.

Souls of slain heroes formed thy rays;
Eternity flashed through thy blaze;
The music of thy martial sphere
Was fame on high and honour here;
And thy light broke on human eyes,
Like a Volcano of the skies.

3

Like lava rolled thy stream of blood. And swept down empires with its flood; Earth rocked beneath thee to her base. As thou didst lighten through all space; And the shorn Sun grew dim in air, And set while thou wert dwelling there.

4

Before thee rose, and with thee grew,

A rainbow of the loveliest hue

Of three bright colours,1 each divine,

1 The tricolour.

And 6t for that celestial sign;

For Freedom's hand had blended them,

Like tints in an immortal gem.

S

One tint was of the sunbeam's dyes; ■
One, the blue depth of Seraph's eyes;
One, the pure Spirit's veil of white
Had robed in radiance of its light:
The three so mingled did beseem
The texture of a heavenly dream.

6.

Star of the brave! thy ray is pale,
And darkness must again prevail!
But, oh thou Rainbow of the free!
Our tears and blood must flow for thee.
When thy bright promise fades away,
Our life is but a load of clay.

7

And Freedom hallows with her tread
The silent cities of the dead;
For beautiful in death are they
Who proudly fall in her array;
And soon, oh Goddess! may we be
For evermore with them or thee!
[First published, Examiner, April 7,
1816.]

STANZAS FOR MUSIC.

They say that Hope is happiness;

But genuine Love must prize the past, And Memory wakes the thoughts that bless,

They rose the first — they set the last;

n.

And all that Memory loves the most
Was once our only Hope to be,

And all that Hope adored and lost
Hath melted into Memory.

m.

Alas! it is delusion all:

The future cheats us from afar, N'or can we be what we recall,

Nor dare we think on what we are. [First published, Fugitive Pieces, 1829.]

THE

SIEGE OF CORINTH.1

"Guns, Trumpets. Blunderbusses, Drums and Thunder.'' — Pope, Sat. i. 26.

TO

JOHN HOBHOUSE, ESQ.,

TIIIS POEM IS INSCRIBED,
BY HIS

FRIEND.

January 22nd, 1816.

ADVERTISEMENT.

"the grand army of the Turks (in 1715), under the Prime Vizier, to open to themselves a way into the heart of the Morea, and to form the siege of Napoli di Romania, the most considerable place in all that country,1 thought it best in the first place to attack Corinth, upon which they made several storms. The garrison being weakened, and the governor seeing it was impossible to

1 [The Siege of Corinth was written in the early spring of 1816 and was published (together with Parisina, which had been written in 1815) February 7, 1816.)

* Napoli di Romania is not now the most considerable place in the Morea. but Tripolitza,where the Pacha resides, and maintains his government. Napoli is near Argos. I visited all three in 1810-11; and, in the course of journeying through the country from my first arrival in 1809, I crossed the Isthmus eight times in my way from Attica to the Morea, over the mountains; or in the other direction, when passing from the Gulf of Athens to that of Lepanlo. Both the routes are picturesque and beautiful, though very different: that by sea has more sameness; but the voyage, being always within sight of land, and often very near it, presents many attractive views of the islands Salamis, Mgina, Poros, etc., and the coast of the Continent.

[" Independently of the suitableness of such an event to the power of Lord Byron's genius, the Fall of Corinth afforded local attractions, by the intimate knowledge which the poet had of the place and surrounding objects. . . . Thus furnished with that topographical information which could not be well obtained from books and maps, he was admirably qualified to depict the various operations and progress of the siege" —■ Memoir of the Life and Writings of the Right Honourable Lord Byron, London, 1822, p. 222.] hold out such a place against so mighty a force, thought it fit to beat a parley: but while they were treating about the articles, one of the magazines in the Turkish camp, wherein they had six hundred barrels of powder, blew up by accident, whereby six or seven hundred men were killed; which so enraged the infidels, that they would not grant any capitulation, but stormed the place with so much fury, that they took it, and put most of the garrison, with Signior Minotti, the governor, to the sword. The rest, with Signior or Antonio Bembo, Proveditor Extraordinary, were made prisoners of war." — A Compleal History of the Turks [London, 1719], iii. 151.

In the year since Jesus died for men,1
Eighteen hundred years and ten,'
We were a gallant company,
Riding o'er land, and sailing o'er sea.
Oh I but we went merrily!
We forded the river, and clomb the high
hill,

Never our steeds for a day stood still; Whether we lay in the cave or the shed,

Our sleep fell soft on the hardest bed; Whether we couched in our rough

capote, 10 On the rougher plank of our gliding

boat,

Or stretched on the beach, or our saddles spread, As a pillow beneath the resting head, Fresh we woke upon the morrow: All our thoughts and words had scope,

We had health, and we had hope,

• [The introductory lines, 1-45. were not published in the First Edition. First published in Letters and Journals, 1830, i. 638, they were included among the Occasional Poems in the edition of 1831, and first prefixed to the poem in the edition of 1832.]

• [The metrical rendering of the date (miscalculated from the death instead of the birth of Christ) may be traced to the opening lines of an old l>allad —

"Upon the sixteen hunder year
Of God, and fifty-three.
From Christ was l>om, that bought us dear,
As writings lestifie," etc.]

Toil and travel, but no sorrow.
We were of all tongues and creeds; —
Some were those who counted beads,
Some of mosque, and some of church, 2<

And some, or I mis-say, of neither; Vet through the wide world might yi search,

Nor find a mother crew nor blither.

But some are dead, and some are gone.
And some are scattered and alone,
And some are rebels on the hills 1

That look along Epirus' valleys,

Where Freedom still at momenti rallies, • And pays in blood Oppression's ills;

And some are in a far countree, 30 And some all restlessly at home;

But never more, oh! never, we
Shall meet to revel and to roam.
But those hardy days flew cheerily!
And when they now fall drearily,
My thoughts, like swallows, skim the
main,

And bear my spirit back again
Over the earth, and through the air,
A wild bird and a wanderer.
'Tis this that ever wakes my strain, 40
And oft, too oft, implores again
The few who may endure my lay,
To follow me so far away.
Stranger, wilt thou follow now,
And sit with me on Acro-Corinth's
brow?

I.

Many a vanished year and age,

And Tempest's breath, and Battle's

rage,

Have swept o'er Corinth; yet she stands,
A fortress formed to Freedom's hands.
The Whirlwind's wrath, the Earth-
quake's shock, 50
Have left untouched her hoary rock,
The keystone of a land, which still,
Though fall'n, looks proudly on that
hill,

The landmark to the double tide
That purpling rolls on either side,

1 The last tidings recently heard of Dervish (one of the Arnauts who followed me) state him to be in revolt upon the mountains, at the head of some of the bands common in that country in times of trouble.

As. if their waters chafed to meet,
Vet pause and crouch beneath her feet.
But could the blood before her shed
Since first Timoleon's brother bled,1
Or baffled Persia's despot fled, 60
Arise from out the Earth which drank
The stream of Slaughter as it sank,
That sanguine Ocean would o'erflow
Her isthmus idly spread below:
Or could the bones of all the slain,
Who perished there, be piled again,
That rival pyramid would rise
More mountain-like, through those clear
skies,

Than yon tower-capped Acropolis,
Which seems the very clouds to kiss. 70

On dun Cithaeron's ridge appears
The gleam of twice ten thousand spears;
And downward to the Isthmian plain,
From shore to shore of either main,
The tent is pitched, the Crescent
shines

Along the Moslem's leaguering lines;

And the dusk Spahi's bands2 advance

Beneath each bearded Pacha's glance;

And far and wide as eye can reach .The turbaned cohorts throng the beach; 80

And there the Arab's camel kneels,

And there his steed the Tartar wheels; .The Turcoman hath left his herd,'

The sabre round his loins to gird;

And there the volleying thunders pour,

Till waves grow smoother to the roar. The trench is dug, the cannon's breath Wings the far hissing globe of death; Fast whirl the fragments, from the wall,

Which crumbles with the ponderous 'ball; 00 And from that wall the foe replies, O'er dusty plain and smoky skies, With fires that answer fast and well The summons of the Infidel.

'[Timoleon, who had saved the life of his brother Timophanes in battle, afterwards put him to death for aiming at the supreme power in Corinth. 1

1 [Turkish holders of military fiefs.] J The life of the Turcomans is wandering and patriarchal: they dwell in tents.

III.

But near and nearest to the wall
Of those who wish and work its fall,
With deeper skill in War's black art,
Than Othman's sons, and high of heart
As any Chief that ever stood
Triumphant in the fields of blood; 100
From post to post, and deed to deed,
Fast spurring on his reeking steed,
Where sallying ranks the trench assail,
And make the foremost Moslem quail;
Or where the battery, guarded well,
Remains as yet impregnable,
Alighting cheerlv to inspire
The soldier slackening in his fire;
The first and freshest of the host
Which Stamboul's Sultan there can
boast, no
To guide the follower o'er the field,
To point the tube, the lance to wield,
Or whirl around the bickering blade;
Was Alp, the Adrian renegade!1

IV.

From Venice ■— once a race of worth
His gentle Sires — he drew his birth;
But late an exile from her shore,
Against his countrymen he bore
The arms they taught to bear; and now
The turban girt his shaven brow. 120
Through many a change had Corinth
passed

With Greece to Venice' rule at last;
And here, before her walls, with those
To Greece and Venice equal foes,
He stood a foe, with all the zeal
Which young and fiery converts feel,
Within whose heated bosom throngs
The memory of a thousand wrongs.
To him had Venice ceased to be
Her ancient civic boast — "the Free;"
And in the palace of St Mark 131
Unnamed accusers in the dark
Within the "Lion's mouth" had placed
A charge against him uneffaced:'

1 [The name is probably derived from Mohammed surnamed Alp-Arslan or "Brave Lion," the second of the Scljuk dynasty, in the eleventh century.]

• (*' The Lions' Mouths, under the arcade at the summit of the Giants' Stairs, which gaped widely to receive anonymous charges, were no doubt far more often employed as vehicles of

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