Such is thy name[18] with this my verse entwined; And long as kinder eyes a look shall cast[i] On Harold's page, Ianthe's here enshrined Shall thus be _first_ beheld, forgotten _last_: My days once numbered--should this homage past Attract thy fairy fingers near the Lyre Of him who hailed thee loveliest, as thou wast-- Such is the most my Memory may desire; Though more than Hope can claim, could Friendship less require?[j] * * * * * CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE. A ROMAUNT. * * * * * CANTO THE FIRST. I.[19] Oh, thou! in Hellas deemed of heavenly birth,[k] Muse! formed or fabled at the Minstrel's will! Since shamed full oft by later lyres on earth,[l][20] Mine dares not call thee from thy sacred Hill: Yet there I've wandered by thy vaunted rill;[m] Yes! sighed o'er Delphi's long deserted shrine,[1.B.] Where, save that feeble fountain, all is still; Nor mote my shell awake the weary Nine To grace so plain a tale--this lowly lay of mine. II. Whilome in Albion's isle there dwelt a youth, Who ne in Virtue's ways did take delight; But spent his days in riot most uncouth, And vexed with mirth the drowsy ear of Night. Ah me! in sooth he was a shameless wight, Sore given to revel and ungodly glee;[n] Few earthly things found favour in his sight[o] Save concubines and carnal companie, And flaunting wassailers of high and low degree.[21] III. Childe Harold was he hight:[22]--but whence his name[p] And lineage long, it suits me not to say; Suffice it, that perchance they were of fame, And had been glorious in another day: But one sad losel soils a name for ay,[23] However mighty in the olden time; Nor all that heralds rake from coffined clay, Nor florid prose, nor honied lies of rhyme,[q] Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a crime. IV. Childe Harold basked him in the Noontide sun,[r] Disporting there like any other fly; Nor deemed before his little day was done One blast might chill him into misery. But long ere scarce a third of his passed by, Worse than Adversity the Childe befell; He felt the fulness of Satiety: Then loathed he in his native land to dwell, Which seemed to him more lone than Eremite's sad cell. V.