Childe Harold's pilgrimage, a romaunt . ilk-white steerGrazes; the purest god of gentle waters!And most serene of aspect, and most clear;Surely that stream was unprofaned by slaughters —A mirror and a bath for Beautys youngest daugliters! Lxvir. And on thy happy shore a temple still,Of small and delicate proportion, keeps,Upon a mild declivity of hill,Its memory of thee; beneath it sweepsThy currents calmness; oft from out it leapsThe finny darter with the glittering dwells and revels in thy glassy deeps;While, chance, some scattered water-lily sailsDown where the shallower wave sti
Childe Harold's pilgrimage, a romaunt . ilk-white steerGrazes; the purest god of gentle waters!And most serene of aspect, and most clear;Surely that stream was unprofaned by slaughters —A mirror and a bath for Beautys youngest daugliters! Lxvir. And on thy happy shore a temple still,Of small and delicate proportion, keeps,Upon a mild declivity of hill,Its memory of thee; beneath it sweepsThy currents calmness; oft from out it leapsThe finny darter with the glittering dwells and revels in thy glassy deeps;While, chance, some scattered water-lily sailsDown where the shallower wave still tells its bubbling tales. LXVI I r. Pass not unblest the Genius of the place!If through the air a zephyr more sereneWin to the brow, tis his; and if ye traceAlong his margin a more eloquent green. CANTO IV. PILGFdMAGE. If on the heart the freshness of the sceneSprinkle its coolness, and from the dry dustOf Aveary life a moment lave it cleanWith Natures baptism, — tis, to him ye mustPay orisons for this suspension of disgust. 191. LXIX. The roar of waters! — from the headlong heightVelino cleaves the wave-worn precipice;The fall of waters! rapid as the lightThe flashing mass foams shaking the abyss ;The hell of waters! where they howl and hiss,And boil in endless torture; while the sweatOf their great agony, wrung out from thisTheir Phlegethon, curls round the rocks of jetThat gird the gulf around, in pitiless horror set, 192 CHILDE HAROLDS canto iv. LXX. And mounts in spray the skies, and thence againReturns in an unceasing shower, which round,With its uncmptied cloud of gentle rain,Is an eternal April to the it all one emerald: — how profoundThe gulf! and how the giant elementFrom rock to rock leaps with delirious bound,Crushing the cliffs, which, downward worn and rentWith his fierce footsteps, yield in chasms a fearful vent LXXI. To the broad column which rolls on, and showsMore like the fountain of an infant seaTorn from the womb of mountains by the
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