With Byron in Itlay; a selection of the poems and letters of Lord Byron relating to his life in ItalyEdited by Anna Benneson McMahan . image of Eternity — the throneOf the Invisible; even from out thy slimeThe monsters of the deep are made; each zoneObeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone. CLXXXIV And I have loved thee, Ocean ! and my joyOf youthful sports was on thy breast to beBorne, like thy bubbles, onward. From a boyI wantond with thy breakers — they to meWere a delight; and if the freshening seaMade them a terror — t was a pleasing fear,For I was as it were a child of thee
With Byron in Itlay; a selection of the poems and letters of Lord Byron relating to his life in ItalyEdited by Anna Benneson McMahan . image of Eternity — the throneOf the Invisible; even from out thy slimeThe monsters of the deep are made; each zoneObeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone. CLXXXIV And I have loved thee, Ocean ! and my joyOf youthful sports was on thy breast to beBorne, like thy bubbles, onward. From a boyI wantond with thy breakers — they to meWere a delight; and if the freshening seaMade them a terror — t was a pleasing fear,For I was as it were a child of thee,And trusted to thy billows far and near,And laid my hand upon thy mane — as I do here. CLXXXV My task is done—my song hath ceased — my themeHas died into an echo; it is fitThe spell should break of this protracted torch shall be extinguished which hath litMy midnight lamp — and what is writ, is writ, —Would it were worthier! but I am not nowThat which I have been — and my visions flitLess palpably before me — and the glowWhich in my spirit dwelt is fluttering, faint, and low. [ no ] o C aU = d o =. a = ~ 4S £ S ° s •?: i THE YEARS 1817, 1818, 1819 CLXXXVI Farewell! a word that must be, and hath been —A sound which makes us linger; —yet — farewell!Ye, who have traced the Pilgrim to the sceneWhich is his last, if in your memories dwellA thought which once was his, if on ye swellA single recollection, not in vainHe wore his sandal-shoon and scallop-shell;Farewell! with Mm alone may rest the pain,If such there were — with you, the moral of his strain ! TO JOHN MURRAY Venice, October 23, 1817- • ••••? Mr. Whistlecraft1 has no greater admirer than have written a story in 89 stanzas, in imitation of him,called Beppo (the short name for Giuseppe, that is, theJoe of the Italian Joseph), which I shall throw you intothe balance of the 4th Canto to help you round to yourmoney; but you perhaps had better publish it anony-mously ;
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