My task is done--my song hath ceased--my theme Has died into an echo; it is fit The spell should break of this protracted dream. The torch shall be extinguished which hath lit My midnight lamp--and what is writ, is writ-- Would it were worthier! but I am not now That which I have been--and my visions flit Less palpably before me--and the glow Which in my spirit dwelt is fluttering, faint, and low. CLXXXVI. Farewell! a word that must be, and hath been-- A sound which makes us linger; yet, farewell! Ye, who have traced the Pilgrim to the scene Which is his last, if in your memories dwell A thought which once was his, if on ye swell A single recollection, not in vain He wore his sandal-shoon and scallop shell; Farewell! with HIM alone may rest the pain, If such there were--with YOU, the moral of his strain. Footnotes: {1} Lady Charlotte Harley, daughter of the Earl of Oxford. End of Project Gutenberg's Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, by Lord Byron