CHILDE ALARIQUE. PART SECOND. 1. me! is this the Childe that wont to view he simplest scene with kindling ecstacy?— me! his hollow cheek how pale of hue! w faded now the lustre of his eye! ss he roams the mountain scenery, eebly drags his fainting steps along ; passes all he sees unheeded by :"* rain for him the woodlark's cheering song, the charms that reign the vernal woods 2. Ah, me! what grief to meet the western gale, The path that woke our infant ecstacies, That all our cherished dreams have fled away, For ever fled-nor aught can renovate their sway! 3. Yet now, when brightly gleams the noonday sun, And opes the landscape wide its fair array,— Will no faint trace of former joys be won? Nor when the southern breezes softly play, Wafting the sweets of many a blossom'd spray ; Nor when the skylark warbles loud and clear; Nor when through favourite scenes he bends his Νο way, Where Fancy's brightest visions did appear?— all to him is cold and desolate and drear. 4. "And have they died, and never, never more To wake again, those visionary hues, That wont to charm my woodland path of yore, And on each mountain scene their light diffuse ! Hast thou departed too, celestial Muse! No more to cheer thy votary's lonely way? Ah, me' what soul-appalling gloom ensues, When thou withdraw'st thine animating sway! What reckless fiends e'en now are watching for their prey! 5. “Oh Heaven! it is the blessed breath of spring! The groves again their green attire assume; It is the blackbird loudly carolling ; These are my favourite flowers that round me bloom: Oh what shall cure this everlasting gloom? What charm shall still the voice that seems to cry, "Go to the charnel vault-the rayless tomb Here is no path in our sweet scenery For thee, detested child of guilt and misery!" 6. 1 "Is this the radiant path I trod of yore? Green grows the grass-the skylark soars on high! Lo! yonder is the castled summit hoar, Beneath whose cliff I watch'd the evening sky. Oh, God! the sunbeam sheds its brilliancy On that surpassing scene! but, ah! for me What scene shall wake responsive ecstacy? Where is mine innocence? mine inward glee ? Oh days of early bliss, how soon your transports flee !" 7. Thus mourn'd the Childe with many a tear and sigh, As on the grass his listless length he threw ; Where on his head the fragrant canopy Of blossom'd wild-wood shed ambrosial dew. In vain for him the ringdove's plaintive coo, Or cuckoo's mirthful note is heard around, No charms his wonted raptures could renew, Or quell the fiend Remorse, that grimly frown'd, And still with blood-stain'd fangs infix'd the deadly wound. |