by Byron
40
With marks that will not wear away,
Till I have done with this new day,
Which now is painful to these eyes
Which have not seen the sun so rise
For years — I cannot count them o’er
45
I lost their long and heavy score
When my last brother droop’d and died,
And I lay living by his side.
III
They chain’d us each to a column stone,
And we were three – yet, each alone;
50
We could not move a single pace,
We could not see each other’s face,
But with that pale and livid light
That made us strangers in our sight:
And thus together — yet apart,
55
Fetter’d in hand, but pined in heart;
’Twas still some solace, in the dearth
Of the pure elements of earth,
To hearken to each other’s speech,
And each turn comforter to each
60
With some new hope or legend old
Or song heroically bold;
But even these at length grew cold.
Our voices took a dreary tone,
An echo of the duneon stone
65
A grating sound — not full and free
As they of yore were wont to be;
It might be fancy — but to me
They never sounded like our own.
IV
I was the eldest of the three,
70
And to uphold and cheer the rest
I ought to do — and did my best —
And each did well in his degree.
The youngest, whom my father loved,
Because our mother’s brow was given
75
To him — with eyes as blue as heaven,
For him my soul was sorely moved:
And truly might it be distress’d
To see such bird in such a nest;
For he was beautiful as day -
80
(When day was beautiful to me
As to young eagles being free) —
A polar day, which will not see
A sunset till its summer’s gone
Its sleepless summer of long light,
85
The snow-clad offspring of the sun:
And thus he was as pure and bright,
And in his natural spirit gay,
With tears for nought but others’ ills,
And then they flow’d like mountain rills,
90
Unless he could assuage the woe
Which he abhorr’d to view below.
V
The other was as pure of mind,
But form’d to combat with his kind;
Strong in his frame, and of a mood
95
Which ’gainst the world in war had stood,
And perish’d in the foremost rank
With joy: — but not in chains to pine:
His spirit wither’d with their clank,
I saw it silently decline —
100
And so perchance in sooth did mine:
But yet I forced it on to cheer
Those relics of a home so dear.
He was a hunter of the hills,
Had follow’d there the deer and wolf;
105
To him this dungeon was a gulf,
And fetter’d feet the worst of ills.
VI
Lake Leman lies by Chillon’s walls:
A thousand feet in depth below
Its massy waters meet and flow;
110
Thus much the fathom-line was sent
From Chillon’s snow-white battlement,1
Which round about the wave inthrals:
A double dungeon wall and wave
Have made — and like a living grave.
115
Below the surface of the lake
The dark vault lies wherein we lay,
We heard it rile night and day;
Sounding o’er our heads it knock’d;
And I have felt the winter’s spray
120
Wash through the bars when winds were high
And wanton in the happy sky;
And then the very rock hath rock’d,
And I have felt it shake, unshock’d,
Because I could have smiled to see
125
The death that would have set me free.
VII
I said my nearer brother pined,
I said his mighty heart declined,
He loathed and put away his food;
It was not that ’twas coarse and rude,
130
For we were used to hunter’s fare,
And for the like had little care:
The milk drawn from the mountain goat
Was changed for water from the moat,
Our bread was such as captive’s tears
135
Have moisten’d many a thousand years,
Since man first pent his fellow men
Like brutes within an iron den;
But what were these to us or him?
These wasted not his heart or limb;
140
My brother’s soul was of that mould
Which in a palace had grown cold,
Had his free breathing been denied
The range of the steep mountain’s side;
But why delay the truth? — he died.
145
I saw, and could not hold his head,
Nor reach his dying hand — nor dead, —
Though hard I strove, but strove in vain,
To rend and gnash my bonds in twain.
He died — and they unlock’d his chain
150
And scoop’d for him a shallow grave
Even from the cold earth of our cave.
I begg’d them, as a boon, to lay
His corse in dust whereon the day
Might shine — it was a foolish thought,
155
But then within my brain it wrought,
That even in death his freeborn breast
In such a dungeon could not rest.
I might have spared my idle prayer —
They coldly laugh’d — and laid him there:
160
The flat and turfless earth above
The being we so much did love;
His empty chain above it leant,
Such murder’s fitting monument!
VIII
But he, the favourite and the flower,
165
Most cherish’d since his natal hour,
His mother’s image in fair face,
The infant love of all his race,
His martyr’d father’s dearest thought,
My latest care, for whom I sought
170
To hoard my life, that his might be
Less wretched now, and one day free;
He, too, who yet had held untired
A spirit natural or inspired –
He, too, was struck, and day by day
175
Was wither’d on the stalk away.
Oh, God! it is a fearful thing
To see the human soul take wing
In any shape, in any mood: —
I’ve seen it rushing forth in blood,
180
I’ve seen it on the breaking ocean
Strive with a swoln convulsive motion
I’ve seen the sick and ghastly bed
Of Sin delirious with its dread:
But these were horrors — this was woe
185
Unmix’d with such — but sure and slow:
He faded, and so calm and meek,
So softly worn, so sweetly weak,
So tearless, yet so tender — kind,
; And grieved for those he left behind;
190
With all the while a cheek whose bloom
Was as a mockery of the tomb,
Whose tints as gently sunk away
As a departing rainbow’s ray —
An eye of most transparent light,
195
That almost made the dungeon bright,
And not a word of murmur — not
A groan o’er his untimely lot, -
A little talk of better days,
A little hope my own to raise,
200
For I was sunk in silence — lost
In this last loss, of all the most;
And then the sighs he would suppress
Of fainting nature’s feebleness,
More slowly drawn, grew less and less:
205
I listen’d, but I could not hear —
I call’d, for I was wild with fear;
I knew ’twas hopeless, but my dread
Would not be thus admonished;
I call’d, and thought I heard a sound -
210
I burst my chain with one strong bound,
And rush’d to him: — I found him not,
I only stirr’d in this black spot,
I only lived — I only drew
The accursed breath of dungeon-dew;
215
The last — the sole — the dearest link
Between me and the eternal brink,
Which bound me to my failing race,
Was broken in this fatal place.
One on the earth, and one beneath -
220
My brothers — both had ceased to breathe :
I took that hand which lay so still,
Alas! my own was full as chill;
I had not strength to stir, or strive,
But felt that I was still alive —
225
A frantic feeling, when we know
That what we love shall ne’er be so.
I know not why
I could not die,
I had no earthly hope — but faith,
230
And that forbade a selfish death.
IX
What next befell me then and there
I know not well — I never knew —
First came the loss of light, and air,
And then of darkness too:
235
I had no thought, no feeling — none —
Among the stones I stood a stone,
And was, scarce conscious what I wist,
As shrubless crags within the mist;
For all was blank and bleak, and grey,
240
It was not night — it was not day,
It was not even the dungeon-light,
So hateful to my heavy sight,
But vacancy absorbing space,
And fixedness — without a place;
245
There were no stars — no earth — no time —
No check — no change — no good — no crime
But silence, and a stirless breath
Which neither was of life nor death;
A sea of stagnant idleness,
250
Blind, boundless, mute, and motionless!
X
A light broke in upon my brain, —
It was the carol of a bird;
It ceased, and then it came again,
The sweetest song ear ever heard,
255
And mine was thankful till my eyes
Ran over with the glad surprise,
And they that moment could not see
I was the mate of misery;
But then by dull degrees came back
260
My senses to their wonted track,
I saw the dungeon walls and floor
Close slowly round me as before,
I saw the glimmer of the sun
Creeping as it before had done,
265
But through the crevice where it came
That bird was perch’d, as fond and tame,
And tamer than upon the tree;
A lovely bird, with azure wings,
And song that said a thousand things,
270
And seem’d to say them all for me!
I never saw its like before,
I ne’er shall see its likeness more:
It seem’d like me to want a mate,
But was not half so desolate,
275
And it was come to love me when
None lived to love me so again,
And cheering from my dungeon’s brink,
Had brought me back to feel and think.
I know not if it late were free,
280
Or broke its cage to perch on mine,
But knowing well captivity,
Sweet bird! I could not wish for thine!
Or if it were, in winged guise,
A visitant from Paradise;
285
For — Heaven forgive that thought! the while
Which made me both to weep and smile;
I sometimes deem’d that it might be
My brother’s soul come down to me;
But then at last away it flew,
290
And then ’twas mortal — well I knew,
For he would never thus have flown,
And left me twice so doubly lone, —
Lone — as the corse within its shroud,
Lone — as a solitary cloud,
295
A single cloud on a sunny day,
While all the rest of heaven is clear,
A frown upon the atmosphere,
That hath no business to appear
When skies are blue, and earth is gay.
XI
300
A kind of change came in my fate,
My keepers grew compassionate;
I know not what had made them so,
They were inured to sights of woe,
But so it was: — my broken chain
305
With links unfasten’d did remain
And it was liberty to stride
Along my cell from side to side,
And up and down, and then athwart,
And tread it over every part;
310
And round the pillars one by one,
Returning where my walk begun,
Avoiding only, as I trod,
My brothers’ graves without a sod;
For if I thought with heedless tread
315
My step profaned their lowly bed,
My breath came gaspingly and thick,
And my crush’d heart fell blind and sick.
XII
I made a footing in the wall,
It was not therefrom to escape,
320
For I had buried one and all
Who loved me in a human shape;
And the whole earth would henceforth be
A wider prison unto me:
No child — no sire — no kin had I,
325
No partner in my misery;
I thought of this, and I was glad,
For thought of them had made me mad;
But I was curious to ascend
To my barr’d windows, and to bend
330
Once more, upon the mountains high,
The quiet of a loving eye.
XIII
I saw them — and they were the same,
They were not changed like me in frame;
I saw their thousand years of snow
335
On high — their wide long lake below,
And the blue Rhone in fullest flow
I heard the torrents leap and gush
O’er channell’d rock and broken bush;
I saw the white-wall’d distant town,
340
And whiter sails go skimming down;
/> And then there was a little isle,1
Which in my very face did smile,
The only one in view;
A small green isle, it seem’d no more,
345
Scarce broader than my dungeon floor,
But in it there were three tall trees,
And o’er it blew the mountain breeze,
And by it there were waters flowing
And on it there were young flowers growing,
350
Of gentle breath and hue.
The fish swam by the castle wall,
And they seem’d joyous each and all;
The eagle rode the rising blast,
Methought he never flew so fast
355
As then to me he seem’d to fly,
And then new tears came in my eye,
And I felt troubled — and would fain
I had not left my recent chain;
And when I did descend again,
360
The darkness of my dim abode
Fell on me as a heavy load;
It was as is a new-dug grave,
Closing o’er one we sought to save, —
And yet my glance, too much oppress’d,
365
Had almost need of such a rest.
XIV
It might be months, or years, or days,
I kept no count — I took no note,
I had no hope my eyes to raise,
And clear them of their dreary mote;
370
At last men came to set me free,
I ask’d not why, and reck’d not where,
It was at length the same to me,
Fetter’d or fetterless to be,
I learn’d to love despair.
375
And thus when they appear’d at last,
And all my bonds aside were cast,
These heavy walls to me had grown
A hermitage — and all my own!
And half I felt as they were come
380
To tear me from a second home:
With spiders I had friendship made,
And watch’d them in their sullen trade,
Had seen the mice by moonlight play,
And why should I feel less than they?
385
We were all inmates of one place,
And I, the monarch of each race,
Had power to kill — yet, strange to tell!
In quiet we had learn’d to dwell —1
My very chains and I grew friends,
390
So much a long communion tends
To make us what we are: — even I
Regain’d my freedom with a sigh.
Darkness
I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguish’d, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
5
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;
Morn came and went – and came, and brought no day,
And men forgot their passions in the dread
Of this their desolation; and all hearts
Were chill’d into a selfish prayer for light:
10
And they did live by watchfires – and the thrones,
