Lake Leman[115] lies by Chillon's walls, A thousand feet in depth below Its massy waters meet and flow; Thus much the fathom-line was sent 110 From Chillon's snow-white battlement, Which round about the wave inthrals: A double dungeon wall and wave Have made--and like a living grave. Below the surface of the lake 115 The dark vault lies wherein we lay, We heard it ripple night and day; Sounding o'er our heads it knocked And I have felt the winter's spray Wash through the bars when winds were high 120 And wanton in the happy sky; And then the very rock hath rocked, And I have felt it shake, unshocked, Because I could have smiled to see The death that would have set me free. 125 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, For we were used to hunter's fare, 130 And for the like had little care: The milk drawn from the mountain goat Was changed for water from the moat,[116] Our bread was such as captive's tears Have moistened many a thousand years, 135 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; My brother's soul was of that mould 140 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. I saw, and could not hold his head, 145 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 unlocked his chain, And scooped for him a shallow grave 150 Even from the cold earth of our cave. I begged them, as a boon, to lay His corse in dust whereon the day Might shine--it was a foolish thought, But then within my brain it wrought, 155 That even in death his freeborn breast In such a dungeon could not rest. I might have spared my idle prayer-- They coldly laughed--and laid him there: The flat and turfless earth above 160 The being we so much did love; His empty chain above it leant, Such murder's fitting monument! VIII