The Works of Lord Byron. Vol. 2Byron, George Gordon Byron, Baron
General
The Works of Lord Byron. Vol. 2
Byron, George Gordon Byron, Baron
English poetry
_Of all his train there was a henchman page,_
_peasant_ _served_
_A {-dark eyed-} boy, who {-loved-} his master well;_
_And often would his pranksome prate engage_
_Harold's_
_Childe {-Burun's-} ear, when his proud heart did swell_
_With sable thoughts that he disdained to tell_.
_Alwin_
_Then would he smile on him, as {-Rupert-} smiled,_
_{-Robin-}_
_When aught that from his young lips archly fell_
_Harold's_
_The gloomy film from {-Burun's-} eye beguiled;_
_And pleased the Childe appeared nor ere the boy reviled_.}
_And pleased for a glimpse appeared the woeful Childe_. }
_Him and one yeoman only did he take_
_To travel Eastward to a far countree;_
_And though the boy was grieved to leave the lake_
_On whose firm banks he grew from Infancy,_
_Eftsoons his little heart beat merrily_
_With hope of foreign nations to behold,_
_And many things right marvellous to see,_
_vaunting_
_Of which our {-lying-} voyagers oft have told,_
_{-From Mandevilles' and scribes of similar mold.-}_ }
or, _In tomes pricked out with prints to monied ... sold_}
_In many a tome as true as Mandeville's of old_. }
[z] ----_Childe Burun_----.--[MS.]
[aa] {21} Stanza ix. was the result of much elaboration. The first
draft, which was pasted over the rejected stanzas (_vide supra_, p. 20,
_var_. i.), retains the numerous erasures and emendations. It ran as
follows:--
_And none did love him though to hall and bower_
_{-few could-}_
_Haughty he gathered revellers from far and near_
_{-An evil smile just bordering on a sneer-}_
_He knew them flatterers of the festal hour_
_{-Curled on his lip-}_
_The heartless Parasites of present cheer,_
_As if_
_{-And deemed no mortal wight his peer-}_
_Yea! none did love him not his lemmans dear_
_{-To gentle Dames still less he could be dear-}_
_{-Were aught-} But pomp and power alone are Woman's care_
_{-But-} And where these are let no Possessor fear_
_{-The sex are slaves-} Maidens like moths are ever caught by glare_
_{-Love shrinks outshone by Mammons dazzling-} glare_
_And Mammon_
_{-That Demon-} wins his_ [MS. torn] _where Angels might despair._
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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