CHILDE HAROLD'S GOOD NIGHT.
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. "Adieu, adieu! my native shoreFades o'er the waters blue;The night-winds sigh, the breakers roar,And shrieks the wild sea-mew.Yon Sun that sets upon the seaWe follow in his flight;Farewell awhile to him and thee,My native Land--Good Night! 2. "A few short hours and He will riseTo give the Morrow birth;And I shall hail the main and skies,But not my mother Earth.Deserted is my own good Hall,Its hearth is desolate;Wild weeds are gathering on the wall;My Dog howls at the gate. 3. "Come hither, hither, my little page[36]Why dost thou weep and wail?Or dost thou dread the billows' rage,Or tremble at the gale?But dash the tear-drop from thine eye;Our ship is swift and strong:Our fleetest falcon scarce can fly[aj]More merrily along."[ak] 4. "Let winds be shrill, let waves roll high,[al]I fear not wave nor wind:Yet marvel not, Sir Childe, that IAm sorrowful in mind;[37]For I have from my father gone,A mother whom I love,And have no friend, save these alone,But thee--and One above. 5. 'My father blessed me fervently,Yet did not much complain;But sorely will my mother sighTill I come back again.'--"Enough, enough, my little lad!Such tears become thine eye;If I thy guileless bosom had,Mine own would not be dry. 6. "Come hither, hither, my staunch yeoman,[38]Why dost thou look so pale?Or dost thou dread a French foeman?Or shiver at the gale?"--'Deem'st thou I tremble for my life?Sir Childe, I'm not so weak;But thinking on an absent wifeWill blanch a faithful cheek. 7. 'My spouse and boys dwell near thy hall,Along the bordering Lake,And when they on their father call,What answer shall she make?'--"Enough, enough, my yeoman good,[am]Thy grief let none gainsay;But I, who am of lighter mood,Will laugh to flee away. 8. "For who would trust the seeming sighs[an]Of wife or paramour?Fresh feeres will dry the bright blue eyesWe late saw streaming o'er.For pleasures past I do not grieve,Nor perils gathering near;My greatest grief is that I leaveNo thing that claims a tear.[39] 9. "And now I'm in the world alone,Upon the wide, wide sea:But why should I for others groan,When none will sigh for me?Perchance my Dog will whine in vain,Till fed by stranger hands;But long ere I come back again,He'd tear me where he stands.[ao][40] 10. "With thee, my bark, I'll swiftly goAthwart the foaming brine;Nor care what land thou bear'st me to,So not again to mine.Welcome, welcome, ye dark-blue waves!And when you fail my sight,Welcome, ye deserts, and ye caves!My native Land--Good Night!"
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