The Works of Lord Byron - LightNovelsOnl.com
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77.
What minstrel grey, what h.o.a.ry bard, Shall Allan's deeds on harp-strings raise?
The song is glory's chief reward, But who can strike a murd'rer's praise?
78.
Unstrung, untouch'd, the harp must stand, No minstrel dare the theme awake; Guilt would benumb his palsied hand, His harp in shuddering chords would break.
79.
No lyre of fame, no hallow'd verse, Shall sound his glories high in air: A dying father's bitter curse, A brother's death-groan echoes there.
[Footnote 1: The catastrophe of this tale was suggested by the story of "Jeronymo and Lorenzo," in the first volume of Schiller's 'Armenian, or the Ghost-Seer'. It also bears some resemblance to a scene in the third act of 'Macbeth'.--['Der Geisterseher', Schiller's 'Werke' (1819), x.
97, 'sq'.]
[Footnote 2: It is evident that Byron here confused the 'pibroch', the air, with the 'bagpipe', the instrument.]
[Footnote 3: Beltane Tree, a Highland festival on the first of May, held near fires lighted for the occasion.]
[Footnote i:
'She view'd the gasping'----.
['Hours of Idleness'.]]
[Footnote ii:
'When many an eye which ne'er again Could view'----.
['Hours of Idleness'.]]
[Footnote iii:
'Internal fears'----.
['Hours of Idleness'.]]
[Footnote iv:
'Old Angus prest, the earth with his breast'.
['Hours of Idleness'.]]
TRANSLATION FROM ANACREON.
[Greek: Thel_o legein Atpeidas, k.t.l.] [1]
ODE 1.
TO HIS LYRE.
I wish to tune my quivering lyre, [i]
To deeds of fame, and notes of fire; To echo, from its rising swell, How heroes fought and nations fell, When Atreus' sons advanc'd to war, Or Tyrian Cadmus rov'd afar; But still, to martial strains unknown, My lyre recurs to Love alone.
Fir'd with the hope of future fame, [ii]
I seek some n.o.bler Hero's name; The dying chords are strung anew, To war, to war, my harp is due: With glowing strings, the Epic strain To Jove's great son I raise again; Alcides and his glorious deeds, Beneath whose arm the Hydra bleeds; All, all in vain; my wayward lyre Wakes silver notes of soft Desire.
Adieu, ye Chiefs renown'd in arms!
Adieu the clang of War's alarms! [iii]
To other deeds my soul is strung, And sweeter notes shall now be sung; My harp shall all its powers reveal, To tell the tale my heart must feel; Love, Love alone, my lyre shall claim, In songs of bliss and sighs of flame.
[Footnote 1: The motto does not appear in 'Hours of Idleness' or 'Poems O. and T.']
[Footnote i: 'I sought to tune'----.--['MS. Newstead'.]]
[Footnote ii:
'The chords resumed a second strain, To Jove's great son I strike again.
Alcides and his glorious deeds, Beneath whose arm the Hydra bleeds'.
['MS. Newstead'.]]
[Footnote iii:
