Did ye not hear it ?-no; 'twas but the wind, And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before! Within a window'd niche of that high hall Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, Roused up the soldier ere the morning star; Or whispering, with white lips-"The foe! They come ! they come !"2 And wild and high the "Camerons' Gathering" rose ! Have heard; and heard, too, have her Saxon foes :- 1 The son of the Duke of Brunswick, the leader of the allied armies in the invasion of France in 1792, who died of his wounds, and of grief, after the battle of Jena. The young duke was slain at Quatre Bras, June 16.-See Alison's Europe, or Scott's Napoleon. 2 These two stanzas form a fine instance of Byron's power in antithesis. 3 The chief of the clan Cameron. The Highland regiments distinguished themselves conspicuously in the battie.-Albyn, the Gaelic name of Scotland. гр Savage and shrill! But, with the breath that fills The stirring memory of a thousand years, And Evan's, Donald's fame rings in each clansman's ears! And Ardennes1 waves above them her green leaves, Over the unreturning brave,-alas! Ere evening to be trodden like the grass, Which, now beneath them, but above shall grow In its next verdure, when this fiery mass Of living valour, rolling on the foe, And burning with high hope, shall moulder cold and low. Last noon-beheld them full of lusty life, The midnight-brought the signal-sound of strife, The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when rent, Which her own clay shall cover, heap'd and pent, CANTO III. STANZA XXXVI. NAPOLEON. There sunk the greatest, nor the worst of men, One moment of the mightiest, and again Extreme in all things! had'st thou been betwixt, And shake again the world, the Thunderer of the Scene! Conqueror and captive of the earth art thou! Was ne'er more bruited in men's minds than now That thou art nothing, save the jest of Fame, The forest of Ardennes lay in the country around the Meuse; the appellation is here applied to that of Soignies, between Brussels and Waterloo: this wood is fast disappearing. 2 The evening before the battle the troops bivouacked under a deluge of rain, and the morning was ushered in by a thunderstorm. The battle lasted for about twelve hours. Who woo'd thee once, thy vassal, and became Who deem'd thee for a time whate'er thou didst assert. Oh, more or less than man-in high or low, Look through thine own, nor curb the lust of war, Yet well thy soul hath brook'd the turning tide When the whole host of hatred stood fast by To watch and mock thee shrinking, thou hast smiled When fortune fled her spoil'd and favourite child, Sager than in thy fortunes; for in them And spurn the instruments thou wert to use So hath it proved to thee, and all such lot who choose. CANTO III. STANZA LXXXV. THE LAKE OF GENEVA. Clear, placid Leman! thy contrasted lake, To waft me from distraction; once I loved That I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved. It is the hush of night, and all between There breathes a living fragrance from the shore, He is an evening reveller, who makes At intervals, some bird from out the brakes Ye stars! which are the poetry of heaven! A beauty and a mystery, and create In us such love and reverence from afar, That fortune, fame, power, life, have named themselves a star. All heaven and earth are still-though not in sleep, But breathless, as we grow when feeling most; And silent, as we stand in thoughts too deep : All heaven and earth are still: From the high host All is concenter'd in a life intense, Where not a beam, nor air, nor leaf is lost, But hath a part of being, and a sense Of that which is of all Creator and defence. The sky is changed!—and such a change! Oh night, Of a dark eye in woman! Far along, From peak to peak, the rattling crags among, Leaps the live thunder! not from one lone cloud, But every mountain now hath found a tongue, And Jura answers, through her misty shroud, Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud! And this is in the night-Most glorious night: 66 FROM MARINO FALIERO." ACT V. SCENE III. THE DOGE'S SPEECH BEFORE HIS EXECUTION. Doge. I speak to Time and to Eternity, I hasten, let my voice be as a spirit Upon you! Ye blue waves! which bore my banner, I am not innocent-but are these2 guiltless? I perish, but not unavenged; far ages Float up from the abyss of time to be, And show these eyes, before they close, the doom On her and hers for ever!-Yes, the hours Are silently engendering of the day, When she, who built 'gainst Attila3 a bulwark, The conspiracy headed by the Doge Marino Faliero against the Venetian aristocracy, happened in 1355. On its discovery the doge was deposed and executed on the "Giants' Staircase" of his palace. 2 The Venetian nobility. 3 The foundation of Venice has been ascribed to the fugitive Veneti of the north-western shore of the Adriatic, on the approach of the arms of Attila the Hun, in the middle of the fifth century. 4 Bonaparte, who extinguished her independence in 1797; at the subsequent treaty of Campo Formio, the ocean queen of a thousand years was transferred to Austria. For the disgraceful circumstances of the conduct of both France and Austria in these transactions, see Alison. The recent movements in Italy roused in Venice the spirit of her ancient greatness; hers is the last hand that has lowered the lately-hoisted flag of Italian indepen |