Childe Harold's pilgrimage, a romaunt . guest:Here was the camp, the watch-flame, and the host,Here the bold peasant stormed the dragons nest;Still does he mark it with triumphant points to yonder cliffs, which oft were Avon and lost. L. And whomsoecr along the path you meet Bears in his cap the badge of crimson hue. Which tells you whom to shun and whom to Q:rcet: CANTO I. PILGRIMAGE. 43 Woe to the man that walks in public viewWithout of loyalty this token true:Sharp is the knife, and sudden is the stroke;And sorely would the Gallic foeman rue,If subtle poniards, Avrapt beneath the
Childe Harold's pilgrimage, a romaunt . guest:Here was the camp, the watch-flame, and the host,Here the bold peasant stormed the dragons nest;Still does he mark it with triumphant points to yonder cliffs, which oft were Avon and lost. L. And whomsoecr along the path you meet Bears in his cap the badge of crimson hue. Which tells you whom to shun and whom to Q:rcet: CANTO I. PILGRIMAGE. 43 Woe to the man that walks in public viewWithout of loyalty this token true:Sharp is the knife, and sudden is the stroke;And sorely would the Gallic foeman rue,If subtle poniards, Avrapt beneath the cloke,Could blunt the sabres edge, or clear the cannons smoke. LI. At every turn Morenas dusky heightSustains aloft the batterys iron load;And, far as mortal eye can compass sight,The mountain-howitzer, the broken bristling palisade, the fosse oerflowed,The stationed bands, the never-vacant watch,The magazine in rocky durance stowed,The bolstered steed beneath the shed of thatch,The ball-piled pyramid, the ever-blazing match,. 44 CHILDE HAEOLDS canto i. LII. Portend the deeds to come: — but he whose nodHas tumbled feebler despots from their swayA moment pauseth ere he lifts the rod;A little moment deigneth to delay:Soon will his legions sweep through tliese their way;The West must own the Scourger of the ! Spain I -how sad will be thy reckoning-day,When soars Gauls Vulture, with his wings unfurled,And thou shalt view thy sous in crowds to Hades hurled. LIII. And must they fall ? the young, the proud, the swell one bloated Chiefs unwholesome reign ?Xo step between submission and a grave ?The rise of rapine and the fall of Spain ?And doth the Power that man adores ordainTheir doom, nor heed the suppliants appeal ?Is all that desperate Valor acts in vain ?And Coimsel sage, and patriotic Zeal,The Veterans skill. Youths fire, and Manhoods heart of steel ? LIV. Is it for this the Spanish maid, aroused,Hangs on the willow her imstrung guitar,And, all unsexe
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