FRAGMENT FROM THE "MONK OF ATHOS." 1

I.

BESIDE the confines of the Ægean main,

Where northward Macedonia bounds the flood,

And views opposed the Asiatic plain,

Where once the pride of lofty Ilion stood,

Like the great Father of the giant brood,
With lowering port majestic Athos stands,
Crowned with the verdure of eternal wood,
As yet unspoiled by sacrilegious hands,

And throws his mighty shade o'er seas and distant lands.

2.

And deep embosomed in his shady groves

Full many a convent rears its glittering spire,
Mid scenes where Heavenly Contemplation loves
To kindle in her soul her hallowed fire,
Where air and sea with rocks and woods conspire
To breathe a sweet religious calm around,

Weaning the thoughts from every low desire,

And the wild waves that break with murmuring sound Along the rocky shore proclaim it holy ground.

3.

Sequestered shades where Piety has given

A quiet refuge from each earthly care,

I. [Given to the Hon. Roden Noel by S. McCalmont Hill, who inherited it from his great-grandfather, Robert Dallas. No date or occasion of the piece has been recorded.-Life of Lord Byron, 1890, p. 5.]

Whence the rapt spirit may ascend to Heaven!

Oh, ye condemned the ills of life to bear!

As with advancing age your woes increase, What bliss amidst these solitudes to share

The happy foretaste of eternal Peace,

Till Heaven in mercy bids your pain and sorrows cease. [First published in the Life of Lord Byron, by the Hon. Roden Noel, London, 1890, pp. 206, 207.]

LINES WRITTEN BENEATH A PICTURE.1

I.

DEAR object of defeated care!

Though now of Love and thee bereft,

To reconcile me with despair

Thine image and my tears are left.

2.

"Tis said with Sorrow Time can cope;
But this I feel can ne'er be true:

For by the death-blow of my Hope
My Memory immortal grew.

Athens, January, 1811.

[First published, Childe Harold, 1812 (4to).]

I. [These lines are copied from a leaf of the original MS. of the Second Canto of Childe Harold. They are headed, "Lines written beneath the Picture of J. U. D."

In a curious work of doubtful authority, entitled, The Life, Writings, Opinions and Times of the Right Hon. G. G. Noel Byron, London, 1825 (iii. 123-132), there is a long and circumstantial narrative of a "defeated" attempt of Byron's to rescue a Georgian girl, whom he had bought in the slave-market for 800 piastres, from a life of shame and degradation. It is improbable that these verses suggested the story; and, on the other hand, the story, if true, does afford some clue to the verses.]

TRANSLATION OF THE FAMOUS GREEK WAR SONG,

“ Δεῦτε παῖδες τῶν Ἑλλήνων.” 1

SONS of the Greeks, arise!

The glorious hour's gone forth,

And, worthy of such ties,

Display who gave us birth.

CHORUS.

Sons of Greeks! let us go

In arms against the foe,

Till their hated blood shall flow

In a river past our feet.

Then manfully despising

The Turkish tyrant's yoke,

1. The song Aeûte Taîdes, etc., was written by Riga, who perished in the attempt to revolutionize Greece. This translation is as literal as the author could make it in verse. It is of the same measure as that of the original. [For the original, see Poetical Works, 1891, Appendix, p. 792. For Constantine Rhigas, see Poetical Works, 1899, ii. 199, note 2. Hobhouse (Travels in Albania, 1858, ii. 3) prints a version (Byron told Murray that it was "well enough," Letters, 1899, iii. 13) of Aeûte Taîdes, of his own composition. He explains in a footnote that the metre is “a mixed trochaic, except the chorus." "This song," he adds, "the chorus particularly, is sung to a tune very nearly the same as the Marseillois Hymn. Strangely enough, Lord Byron, in his translation, has entirely mistaken the metre." The first stanza runs as follows:

"Greeks arise! the day of glory

Comes at last your swords to claim.
Let us all in future story

Rival our forefathers' fame.
Underfoot the yoke of tyrants
Let us now indignant trample,
Mindful of the great example,
And avenge our country's shame."]

Let your country see you rising,

And all her chains are broke. Brave shades of chiefs and sages, Behold the coming strife! Hellénes of past ages,

Oh, start again to life!

At the sound of my trumpet, breaking
Your sleep, oh, join with me!
And the seven-hilled city1 seeking,
Fight, conquer, till we're free.

Sons of Greeks, etc.

Sparta, Sparta, why in slumbers
Lethargic dost thou lie ?
Awake, and join thy numbers
With Athens, old ally!
Leonidas recalling,

That chief of ancient song,
Who saved ye once from falling,

The terrible! the strong! Who made that bold diversion In old Thermopyla,

And warring with the Persian

To keep his country free; With his three hundred waging The battle, long he stood,

And like a lion raging,

Expired in seas of blood.

Sons of Greeks, etc.

[First published, Childe Harold, 1812 (4to).]

1. Constantinople. "Errάλopos."

TRANSLATION OF THE ROMAIC SONG,

“ Μπένω μεσ ̓ τὸ περιβόλι,

Ωραιοτάτη Χαηδή," κ.τ.λ.

I ENTER thy garden of roses,
Belovéd and fair Haidée,

Each morning where Flora reposes,
For surely I see her in thee.
Oh, Lovely! thus low I implore thee,
Receive this fond truth from my tongue,

Which utters its song to adore thee,

Yet trembles for what it has sung;

As the branch, at the bidding of Nature,
Adds fragrance and fruit to the tree,
Through her eyes, through her every feature,
Shines the soul of the young Haidée.

But the loveliest garden grows hateful

When Love has abandoned the bowers;
Bring me hemlock-since mine is ungrateful,
That herb is more fragrant than flowers.
The poison, when poured from the chalice,
Will deeply embitter the bowl;

But when drunk to escape from thy malice,
The draught shall be sweet to my soul.

Too cruel! in vain I implore thee

My heart from these horrors to save:
Will nought to my bosom restore thee?

Then open the gates of the grave.

1. The song from which this is taken is a great favourite with the young girls of Athens of all classes. Their manner of singing it is by verses in rotation, the whole number present joining in the chorus. I have heard it frequently at our "xópo" in the winter of 1810-11. The air is plaintive and pretty.