DUKE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Treasure %oom Class of 1913 THE WORKS THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LORD BYRON. T, DAVISON, Lombard-street, Whitefriars, London. THE - fe-^ 55 .THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. 5 From post to post, and deed to deed, Fast spurring on his reeking steed, Where sallying ranks the trench assail, And make the foremost Moslem quail $ Or where the battery, guarded well, 60 Remains as yet impregnable, Alighting cheerly to inspire The soldier slackening in his fire - 7 The first and freshest of the host Which Stamboul's sultan there can boast, 65 To guide the follower o'er the field, To point the tube, the lance to wield, Or whirl around the bickering blade j— Was Alp, the Adrian renegade ! 6 THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. IV. From Venice — once a race of worth 70 His gentle sires — he drew his birth ; But late an exile from her shore, Against his countrymen he bore The arms they taught to bear ; and now The turban girt his shaven brow. 75 Through many a change had Corinth passed With Greece to Venice' rule at last ; And here, before her walls, with those To Greece and Venice equal foes, He stood a foe, with all the zeal 80 Which young and fiery converts feel, Within whose heated bosom throngs The memory of a thousand wrongs. THE SIEGE OP CORINTH. 7 To him had Venice ceased to be Her ancient civic boast — " the Free j" 85 And in the palace of St. Mark Unnamed accusers in the dark Within the " Lion's mouth" had placed A charge against him uneffaced : He fled in time, and saved his life, 90 To waste his future years in strife, That taught his land how great her loss In him who triumphed o'er the Cross, 'Gainst which he reared the Crescent high^ And battled to avenge or die. Cfc5 V. Coumourgi 2 — he whose closing scene Adorned the triumph of Eugene, 8 THE SIEGE OF COHINfH. When on Carlo witz' bloody plain,, The last and mightiest of the slain, He sank, regretting not to die, 100 But curst the Christian's victory — Coumourgi — can his glory cease, That latest conqueror of Greece, Till Christian hands jto Greece restore The freedom Venice gave of yore ? 105 A hundred years have rolled away Since he refixed the Moslem's sway -, And now he led the Mussulman, And gave the guidance of the van To Alp, who well repaid the trust 110 By cities levelled with the dust ; And proved, by many a deed of death, How firm his heart in. novel faith. THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. <) VI. The walls grew weak ; and fast and hot Against them poured the ceaseless shot, 115 With unabating fury sent From battery to battlement 5 And thunder-like the pealing din Rose from each heated culverin $ And here and there some crackling dome 120 M r as fired before the exploding bomb : And as the fabric sank beneath The shattering shell's volcanic breath. In red and wreathing columns flashed The flame, as loud the ruin crashed, 125 Gr into countless meteors driven, Its earth-stars melted into heaven ; Whose clouds that day grew doubly dun A Impervious to the hidden sun, 10 THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. With volumed smoke that slowly grew 130 To one wide sky of sulphurous hue. VII; But not for vengeance, long delayed, Alone, did Alp, the renegade, The Moslem warriors sternly teach His skill to pierce the promised breach : 135 Within these walls a maid was pent His hope would win, without consent Of that inexorable sire, Whose heart refused him in its ire, When Alp, beneath his Christian name, ] 40 Her virgin hand aspired to claim. In happier mood, and earlier time, While unimpeached for traitorous crime, THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. 11 Gayest in gondola or hall, He glittered through the Carnival ; 145 And tuned the softest serenade That e'er on Adria's waters played At midnight to Italian maid. VIII. And many deemed her heart was won $ For sought by numbers,, given to none, 150 Had young Francesca's hand remained Still by the church's bonds unchained : x\nd when the Adriatic bore Lanciotto to the Paynim shore. Her wonted smiles were seen to fail, 155 And pensive waxed the maid and pale $ 12 THE SIBGB OF CORINTH. More constant at confessional, More rare at masque and festival -, Or seen at such, with downcast eyes, Which conquered hearts they ceased to prize : 160 With listless look she seems to gaze j With humbler care her form arrays 5 Her voice less lively in the song ; Her step, though light, less fleet among The pairs, on whom the Morning's glance 105 Breaks, yet unsated with the dance. IX. Sent by the state to guard the land, (Which, wrested from the Moslem's hand, While Sobieski tamed his pride By Buda's wall and Danube's side, 170 THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. 13 The chiefs of Venice wrung away From Patra to Eubcea's bay,) Minotti held in Corinth's towers The Doge's delegated po\?ers, While yet the pitying eye of Peace 175 Smiled o'er her long forgotten Greece : And ere that faithless truce was broke Which freed her from the unchristian yoke, With him his gentle daughter came 5 Nor there, since Menelaus' dame 180 Forsook her lord and land, to prove What woes await on lawless love, Had fairer form adorned the shore Than she,, the matchless stranger, bore. 14 THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. X. The wall is rent, the ruins yawn ; 1 85 And, with to-morrow's earliest dawn, O'er the disjointed mass shall vault The foremost of the fierce assault. The bands are ranked ; the chosen van Of Tartar and of Mussulman, 1G0 The full of hope, misnamed <( forlorn," Who hold the thought of death in scorn, And win their way with falchions' force, Or pave the path with many a corse, O'er which the following brave may rise, J 95 Their stepping-stone — the last who dies | XI. *Tis midnight : on the mountain's brown The cold, round moon shines deeply down ; THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. 3 5 Blue roll the waters, blue the sky Spreads like an ocean hung on high, 200 Bespangled with those isles of light, So wildly, spiritually bright ; Who ever gazed upon them shining, And turned to earth without repining, Nor wished for wings to flee away, 205 And mix with their eternal ray ? The waves on either shore lay there Calm, clear, and azure as the air ; And scarce their foam the pebbles shook, But murmured meekly as the brook. 210 The winds were pillowed on the waves ; The banners drooped along their staves, And, as they fell around them furling, Above them shone the crescent curling j \6 THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. And that deep silence was unbroke, 215 Save where the watch his signal spoke, Save where the steed neighed oft and shrill, And echo answered from the hill, And the wide hum of that wild host Rustled like leaves from coast to coast, 220 As rose the Muezzin's voice in air In midnight call to wonted prayer \ It rose, that chanted mournful strain, Like some lone spirit's o'er the plain : 'Twas musical, but sadly sweet, 225 Such as when winds and harp-strings meet, And take a long unmeasured tone, To mortal minstrelsy unknown. It seemed to those within the wall A cry prophetic of their fall : 230 THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. 17 It struck even the besieger's ear With something ominous and drear, An undefined arid sudden thrill, Which makes the heart a moment still, Then beat with quicker pulse, ashamed 235 Of that strange sense its silence framed j Such as a sudden passing-bell Wakes, though but for a stranger's knell. XII. The tent of* Alp was on the shore j The sound was hushed, the prayer was o'er ; 240 The watch was set, the night-round made, All mandates issued and obeyed : 'Tis but another anxious night, His pains the morrow may requite vol. v. c 18 THE SIEGE Oft CORINTH With all revenge and love can pay, 245 In guerdon for their long delay. Pew hours remain, and he hath need Of rest, to nerve for many a deed Of slaughter -, but within his soul The thoughts like troubled waters roll. 250 He stood alone among the host) Not his the loud fanatic boast To plant the crescent o'er the cross, Or risk a life with little loss, Secure in paradise to be 255 By Houris loved immortally : Nor his, what burning patriots fee!, The stern exaltedness of zeal, Profuse of blood, untired in toil, When battling on the parent soil. 260 THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. 19 He stood alone — a renegade Against the country he betrayed j He stood alone amidst his band, Without a trusted heart or hand : They followed him, for he was brave, 2(>S And great the spoil he got and gave ; They crouched to him, for he had skill To warp and wield the vulgar will : But still his Christian origin With them was little less than sin. 270 They envied even the faithless fame He earned beneath a Moslem name 5 Since he, their mightiest chief, had been In youth a bitter Nazarene. They did not know how pride can stoop, '2/5 When baffled feelings withering droop ; .■ c2 20 THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. They did not know how hate can burn In hearts once changed from soft to stern ; Nor all the false and fatal zeal The convert of revenge can feel. 2 SO He ruled them — man may rule the worst, By ever daring to be first : So lions o'er the jackal sway j The jackal points, he fells the prey r Then on the vulgar yelling press, 285 To gorge the relics of success. xm. His head grows fevered, *and his pulse The quick successive throbs convulse y In vain from side to side he throws His form, in courtship of repose y 2.QO THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. 21 Or if he dozed, a sound, a start Awoke him with a sunken heart. The turban on his hot brow pressed, The mail weighed lead-like on his breast, Though oft and long beneath its weight 295 Upon his eyes had slumber sate, Without or couch or canopy, Except a rougher field and sky Than now might yield a warrior's bed, Than now along the heaven was spread. 300 He could not rest, he could not stay Within his tent to wait for day, But walked him forth along the sand, Where thousand sleepers strewed the strand. What pillowed them r and why should he 305 More wakeful than the humblest be > 22 THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. Since more their peril, worse their toil, And yet they fearless dream of spoil ; While he alone, where thousands passed A night of sleep, perchance their last, 310 In sickly vigil wandered on, And envied all he gazed upon. XIV, He felt his soul become more light Beneath the freshness, of the night. Cool was the silent sky, though calm,, 315 And bathed his brow with airy balm : Behind, the camp^— before him lay, In many a winding creek and bay, Lepantos gulf ; a,nd, on the brow Of Delphi's hill> unshaken snow, 320 THE SIFX.E OF CORINTH. 23 High and eternal, such as shone Through thousand summers brightly gone, Along the gulf, the mount, the clime ; It will not melt, like man, to time : Tyrant and slave are swept away, 325 Less formed to wear before the ray .3 But that white veil, the tightest, frailest, Which on the mighty mount thou hailest, While tower and tree are torn and rent, Shines o'er its craggy battlement ; 330 In form a peak, in height a cloud, In texture like a hovering shroud, Thus high by parting Freedom spread, As from her fond abode she fled, And lingered on the spot, where long 33 5 Her prophet spirit spake in song. c 24l THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. Oh, still her step at moments falters O'er withered fields, and ruined altars, And fain would wake, in souls too broken, By pointing to each glorious token. 340 But vain her voice, till better days Dawn in those yet remembered rays Which shone upon the Persian flying, And saw the Spartan smile in dying. XV. Not mindless of these mighty times 345 Was Alp, despite his flight and crimes j And through this night, as on he wandered, And o'er the past and present pondered, And thought upon the glorious dead Who there in better cause had bled, 350 THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. 25 He felt how faint and feebly dim The fame that could accrue to him, Who cheered the band, and waved the sword, A traitor in a turbaned horde ; And led them to the lawless siege, 355 Whose best success were sacrilege. Not so had those his fancy numbered, The chiefs whose dust around him slumbered ; Their phalanx marshalled on the plain, Whose bulwarks were not then in vain. 360 They fell devoted, but undying j The very gale their names seemed sighing : The waters murmured of their name ; The woods were peopled with their fame ; The silent pillar, lone and gray, 305 Claimed kindred with their sacred clay) 26 THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. Their spirits wrapt the dusky mountain, Their memory sparkled o'er the fountain j The meanest rill, the mightiest river Rolled mingling with their fame for ever. 370 Despite of every yoke she bears, That land is glory's still and theirs ! 'Tis still a watch- word to the earth : When man would do a deed of worth He points to Greece, and turns to tread, 375 So sanctioned, on the tyrant's head : He looks to her, and rushes on Where life is lost, or freedom won. XVI. Still by the shore Alp mutely mused, And wooed the freshness Night diffused-. 380 THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. 27 There shrinks no ebb in that tideless sea 3 , Which changeless rolls eternally y So that wildest of waves, in their angriest mood, Scarce break on the bounds of the land for a rood ; And the powerless moon beholds them flow, 385 Heedless if she come or go : Calm or high, in main or bay, On their course she hath no sway. The rock unworn its base doth bare, 389 And looks o'er the surf, but it comes not there 5 And the fringe of the foam may be seen below, On the line that it left long ages ago : A smooth short space of yellow sand . Between it and the greener land. 28 THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. He wandered on, along the beach,, 395 Till within the range of a carbine's reach Of the leaguered wall 5 but they saw him not, Or how could he 'scape from the hostile shot ? Did traitors lurk in the Christians' hold ? Were their hands grown stiff, or their hearts waxed cold ? 400 I know not, in sooth ; but from yonder wall There flashed no fire., and there hissed no ball, Though he stood beneath the bastion's frown, That flanked the sea- ward gate of the town \ Though he heard the sound, and could almost tell The sullen words of the sentinel, 406 As his measured step on the stone below Clanked, as he paced it to and fro j THE SIEGE OF CORINTH, 29 And he saw the lean dogs beneath the wall Hold o'er the dead their carnival, 410 Gorging and growling o'er carcase and limb y They were too busy to bark at him ! From a Tartar's skull they had stripped the flesh, As ye peel the fig when its fruit is fresh ; 414 And their white tusks crunched o'er the whiter skull 4 , As it slipped through their jaws, when their edge grew dull, As they lazily mumbled the bones of the dead, When they scarce could rise from the spot where they fed ; So well had they broken a lingering fast 419 With those who had fallen for that night's repast. And Alp knew, by the turbans that rolled on the sand, The foremost of these were the best of his band : 30 THE SIEGE OP CORINTH. Crimson and green were the shawls of their wear, And each scalp had a single long tuft of hair *, All the rest was shaven and bare. 425 The scalps were in the wild dog's maw, The hair was tangled round his jaw. But close by the shore, on the edge of the gulf, There sat a vulture flapping a wolf, Who had stolen from the hills, but kept away, 430 Scared by the dogs, from the human prey -, But he seized on his share of a steed that lay, Picked by the birds, on the sands of the bay. XVII. Alp turned him from the sickening sight : Never had shaken his nerves in fight 5 435 THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. Si But he better could brook to behold the dying, Deep in the tide of their warm blood lying, Scorched with the death-thirst, and writhing in vain, Than the perishing dead who are past all pain. There is something of pride in the perilous hour, Whate'er be the shape in which death may lower ; For Fame is there to say who bleeds, And Honour's eye on daring deeds ! But when all is past, it is humbling to tread O'er the weltering field of the tombless dead, 445 And see worms of the earth, and fowls of the air, Beasts of the forest, all gathering there 5 All regarding man as their prey,, All rejoicing in his decay. 32 THE SIEGE OF CORINTH, XVIII. There is a temple in ruin stands, 450 Fashioned by long forgotten hands -, Two or three columns, and many a stone, Marble and granite, with grass o'ergrown ! Out upon Time ! it will leave no more Of the things to come than the things before i 455 Out upon Time ! who for ever will leave But enough of the past for the future to grieve O'er that which hath been, and o'er that which must be : What we have seen, our sons shall see ; Remnants of things that have passed away, 460 Fragments of stone, reared by creatures of clay ! THE SIEGE OP CORINTH. 33 XIX. He sate him down at a pillar's base, And passed his hand athwart his face ; Like one in dreary musing mood, Declining was his attitude j 465 His head was drooping on his breast, Fevered, throbbing, and opprest ; And o'er his brow, so downward bent, Oft his beating fingers went, Hurriedly, as you may see 470 Your own run over the ivory key, Ere the measured tone is taken By the chords you would awaken. There he sate all heavily, As he heard the night- wind sigh. 47-5 Was it the wind, through some hollow stone 6 , Sent that soft and tender moan ? vol. v. D 34 THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. He lifted his head, and he looked on the sea, But it was un rippled as glass majr be j He looked on the long grass — it waved not a blade) How was that gentle sound conveyed ? 481 He looked to the banners — each flag lay still, So did the leaves on Cithaeron's hill, And he felt not a breath come over his cheek j What did that sudden sound bespeak ? 485 He turned to the left — is he sure of sight > There sate a lady, youthful and bright ! XX. He started up with more of fear Than if an armed foe were near. ** Gcd of my fathers ! what is here r 4QO THE SIEGE OF CORINTH*. 35 * ' Who art thou, and wherefore sent " So near a hostile armament r" His trembling hands refused to sign The cross he deemed no more divine : He had resumed it in that hour, 495 But conscience wrung away the power. He gazed, he saw : he knew the face Of beauty, and the form of grace ; It was Francesca by his side, The maid who might have been his bride ! 500 I The rose was yet upon her cheek, But mellowed with a tenderer streak : Where was the play of her soft lips fled ? Gone was the smile that enlivened their red, d2 36 THE SIEGE OE CORIfcTff. The ocean's calm within their view, 505' Beside her eye had less of blue ; But like that cold wave it stood still, And its glance., though clear, was chill. Around her form a thin robe twining, Nought concealed her bosom shining $ 510 Through the parting of her hair, Floating darkly downward there, Her rounded arm showed white and bare : And ere yet she made reply, Once she raised her hand on high ; 515 It was so wan, and transparent of hue, You might have seen the moon shine through, THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. 37 XXI. f< I come from my rest to him I love best, " That I may be happy, and he may be blest. " I have passed the guards, the gate, the wall; 520 " Sought thee in safety through foes and all. THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. 43 But his heart was swollen, and turned aside, By deep interminable pride. This first false passion of his breast 610 Rolled like a torrent o'er the rest. He sue for mercy ! He dismayed By wild words of a timid maid ! He, wronged by Venice, vow to save Her sons, devoted to the grave ! (3 15 No — though that cloud were thunder's worst, And charged to crush him — let it burst ! He looked upon it earnestly, Without an accent of reply 3 He watched it passing ; it is flown : 620 Full on his eye the clear moon shone, And thus he spake — " Whate'er my fate, Kf I am no changeling — 'tis too late 1 A<4> THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. " The reed in storms may bow and quiver, " Then rise again 3 the tree must shiver. 625 " What Venice made me, I must be, "Her foe in all, save love to thee : " But thou art safe : oh, fly with me!" He turned, but she is gone ! Nothing is there but the column stone. 630 Hath she sunk in the earth, or melted in air ? He saw not, he knew not ; but nothing is there. XXII. The night is past, and shines the sun As if that morn were a jocund one. Lightly and brightly breaks away 635 The Morning from her mantle grey, And the Noon will look on a sultry day. TUB SIEGE OF CORINTH. ±5 Hark to the trump, and the drum, And the mournful sound of the barbarous horn, And the flap of the banners, that flit as they're borne, And the neigh of the steed, and the multitude's hum, And the clash, and the shout, f they come, they come !' The horsetails 8 are plucked from the ground, and the sword From its sheath 3 and they form, and but wait for the word. Tartar, and Spahi, and Turcoman, 645 Strike your tents, and throng to the van ; Mount ye, spur ye, skirr the plain, That the fugitive may flee in vain, When he breaks from the town 5 and none escape, Aged or young, in the Christian shape ; 650 46 THE SIEGE OP CORINTH. While your fellows on foot, in a fiery mass, Bloodstain the breach through which they pass. The steeds are all bridled, and snort to the rein \ Curved is each neck, and flowing each mane ; White is the foam of their champ on the bit : 655 The spears are uplifted ; the matches are lit j The cannon are pointed, and ready to roar, And crush the wall they have crumbled before : Forms in his phalanx each Janizar ; Alp at their head ; his right arm is bare, 660 So is the blade of his scimitar j The khan and the pachas are all at their post ; The vizier himself at the head of the host. When the culverin's signal is fired, then on ; Leave not in Corinth a living one — 665 THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. 47 A priest at her altars, a chief in her halls, A hearth in her mansions, a stone on her walls. God and the prophet— Alia Hu ! Up to the skies with that wild halloo ! " There the breach lies for passage, the ladder to scale j 6/0 " And your hands on your sabres, and how should ye fail ? (t He who first downs with the red cross may crave " His heart's dearest wish $ let him ask it, and have !" Thus uttered Coumourgi, the dauntless vizier 3 The reply was the brandish of sabre and spear, 675 And the shout of fierce thousands in joyous ire : — Silence — hark to the signal — fire ! 48 THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. XXIII. As the wolves, that headlong go On the stately buffalo, Though with fiery eyes, and angry roar, 680 And hoofs that stamp, and horns that gore, He tramples on earth, or tosses on high The foremost, who rush on his strength but to die : Thus against the wall they went, Thus the first were backward bent \ 685 Many a bosom, sheathed in brass, Strewed the earth like broken glass, Shivered by the shot, that tore The ground whereon they moved no more : Even as they fell, in files they lay, 6*90 Like the mower's grass at the dose of day, When his work is done on the levelled plain ; Such was the fall of the-foremost slain. THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. 49 XTXIV. As the spring-tides, with heavy plash, From the cliffs invading dash 635 Huge fragments, sapped by the ceaseless flow, Till white and thundering down they go, Like the avalanche's snow On the Alpine vales below 5 Thus at length, outbreathed and worn, 700 Corinth's sons were downward borne By the long and oft renewed Charge of the Moslem multitude- In firmness they stood, and in masses they fell, Heaped, by the host of the infidel, 705 Hand to hand, and foot to foot : Nothing there, save death, was mute 5 VOL. V. E 50 THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. Stroke, and thrust, and flash, and cry For quarter, or for victory, Mingle there with the volleying thunder, 710 Which makes the distant cities wonder How the sounding battle goes, If with them, or for their foes ; If they must mourn, or may rejoice In that annihilating voice, J 15 Which pierces the deep hills through and through With an echo dread and new .* You might have heard it, on that day, O'er Salamis and Megara ; (We have heard the hearers say,) 720 Even unto Piraeus bay. THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. 51 XXV From the point of encountering blades to the hilt, Sabres and swords with blood were gilt ; But the rampart is won, and the spoil begun, And all but the after carnage done. 725 Shriller shrieks now mingling come From within the plundered dome : Hark to the haste of flying feet, That splash in the blood of the slippery street 3 But here and there, where 'vantage ground 730 Against the foe may still be found, Desperate groups, of twelve or ten, Make a pause, and turn again — With banded backs against the wall, Fiercely stand, or fighting fall. 735 e 2 52 THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. There stood an old man — his hairs were white, But his veteran arm was full of might : So gallantly bore he the brunt of the fray, The dead before him, on that day, In a semicircle lay ; 74 O Still he combated unwounded, Though retreating, unsurrounded. Many a scar of former fight Lurked beneath his corslet bright ; 33 ut of every wound his body bore, 745 Each and all had been ta'en before : Though aged he was, so iron of limb, Few of our youth could cope with him ; And the foes, whom he singly kept at bay, Outnumbered his thin hairs of silver gray. 7<50 THE SIEGE OF CORINTH.' 53 From right to left his sabre swept : Many an Othman mother wept Sons that were unborn, when dipped His weapon first in Moslem gore, Ere his years could count a score. . /55 Of all he might have been the sire Who fell that day beneath his ire : For, sonless left long years ago;, His wrath made many a childless foe ; And since the day, when in the strait d /GO His only boy had met his fate, His parent's iron hand did doom More than a human hecatomb. If shades by carnage be appeased, Patroclus' spirit less was pleased 765 54 THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. Than his, Minotti's son, who died Where Asia's bounds and ours divide. Buried he lay, where thousands before For thousands of years were inhumed on the shore : What of them is left, to tell 770 Where they lie, and how they fell ? Not a stone on their turf, nor a bone in their graves ; But they live in the verse that immortally saves. XXVI. Hark to the Allah shout ! a band Of the Mussulman bravest and best is at hand : Their leader's nervous arm is bare, jy Swifter to smite, and never to spare — Unclothed to the shoulder it waves them on ; Thus in the fight is he ever known : THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. 55 Others a gaudier garb may show, 780 To tempt the spoil of the greedy foe ; Many a hand's on a richer hilt, But none on a steel more ruddily gilt j Many a loftier turban may wear, — Alp is but known by the white arm bare ; Look through the thick of the fight, 'tis there ! There is not a standard on that shore So well advanced the ranks before : There is not a banner in Moslem war Will lure the Delhis half so far 5 790 It glances like a falling star ! Where'er that mighty arm is seen, The bravest be, or late have been 5 There the craven cries for quarter Vainly to the vengeful Tartar ; 795 56 THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. Or the hero, silent lying, Scorns to yield a groan in dying ; Mustering his last feeble blow 'Gainst the nearest levelled foe, Though faint beneath the mutual wound, 800 Grappling on the gory ground. XXVII. Still the old man stood erect, And Alp's career a moment checked. '* Yield thee, Minotti ; quarter take, te For thine own, thy daughter's sake." • 805 u Never, renegado, never! « Though the life of thy gift would last for ever." THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. tf il Francesca ! — Oh my promised bride ! *' Must she too perish by thy pride?'* " She is safe." — e * Where ? where?" — " In heaven $ " From whence thy traitor soul is driven — 811 " Far from thee, and undefiled." Grimly then Minotti smiled, As he saw Alp staggering bow Before his words, as with a blow. 815 " Oh God ! when died she ?'•— " Yesternight— « Nor weep I for her spirit's flight : *' None of my pure race shall be " Slaves to Mahomet and thee — And dashes on the pointed rock The wretch who sinks to rise no more,* — So came upon his soul the shock. And whose that name } 'tis Hugo's, — his — In sooth he had not deemed of this ! — - 100- "lis Hugo's, — he, the child of one He loved— his own all-evil son — The offspring of his wayward youth, When he betrayed Bianca's truth, The maid whose folly could confide 105 In him who made her not his bride. VII. He plucked his poignard in its sheath, But sheathed it ere the point was bare — PAR! SIN A. 91 Howe'er unworthy now to breathe, He could not slay a thing so fair — J 10 At least, not smiling — sleeping — there- Nay, more : — he did not wake her then, But gazed upon her with a glance Which, had she roused her from her trance, Had frozen her sense to sleep again — 115 And o'er his brow the burning lamp Gleamed on the dew-drops big and damp. She spake no more — but still she slumbered — While, in his thought, her days are numbered. VIII. And with the morn he sought, and found, 1 20 In many a tale from those around, 92 PARIS1NA. The proof of all he feared to know, Their present guilt, his future woe ; The long-conniving damsels seek To save themselves, and would transfer ] 25 The guilt — the shame — the doom — to her : Concealment is no more — they speak All circumstance which may compel Full credence to the tale they tell : And Azo's tortured heart and ear ]30 Have nothing more to feel or hear. IX. He was not one who brooked delay : Within the chamber of his state. The chief of Este's ancient sway Upon his throne of judgment sate ; 135 PARISINA. 93 His nobles and his guards are there,— Before him is the sinful pair ; Both young, — and one how passing fair ! With svvordless belt, and fettered hand, Oh, Christ ! that thus a son should stand 140 Before a father's face ! Yet thus must Hugo meet his sire, And hear the sentence of his ire, The tale of his disgrace ! And yet he seems not overcome, 145 Although, as yet, his voice be dumb. X. And still, and pale, and silently Did Parisina wait her doom -, How changed since last her speaking eye Glanced gladness round the glittering room, ] 50 94? PARISINA. Where high-born men were proud to wait — Where Beauty watched to imitate Her gentle voice — her lovely mien — And gather from her air and gait The graces of its queen : 155 Then, — had her eye in sorrow wept, A thousand warriors forth had leapt, A thousand swords had sheathless shone, And made her quarrel alL their own. Now, — what is she } and what are they } . l60 Can she command, or these obey ? All silent and unheeding now, With downcast eyes and knitting brow, And folded arms, and freezing air, And lips that scarce their scorn forbear, 1 65 Her knights and dames, her court — is there : PARISINA. 95 And he, the chosen one, whose lance Had yet been couched before her glance, Who — were his arm a moment freer- Had died or gained her liberty j 170 The minion of his father's bride, — He, too, is fettered by her side j Nor sees her swoln and full eye swim Less for her own despair than him : Those lids o'er which the violet vein-— 1 J 5 Wandering, leaves a tender stain, Shining through the smoothest white That e'er did softest kiss invite — Now seemed with hot and livid glow To press, not shade, the orbs below j 180 Which glance so heavily, and fill, As tear on tear grows gathering still. 96 PARISINA. XL And he for her had also wept, But for the eyes that on him gazed : His sorrow, if he felt it, slept ; 165 Stern and ereet his brow was raised. Whate'er the grief his soul avowed, He would not shrink before the crowd 3 But yet he dared not look on her : Remembrance of the hours that were— 190 His guilt — his love — his present state — His father's wrath— all good men's hate— His earthly, his eternal fate— And hers, — oh, hers !— he dared not throw One look upon that deathlike brow ! J g5 Else had his rising heart betrayed Remorse for all the wreck it made. PARTSINA. 97 XII. And Azo spafee : — " But yesterday " I gloried in a wife and son j 104r PARISINA. " I feel thou art my father still ; " And, harsh as sounds thy hard decree, 310 " Tis not unjust, although from thee. " Begot in sin, to die in shame, <( My life begun and ends the same : " As erred the sire, so erred the son, POEMS. ]35 1. When we two parted In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted To sever for years, Pale grew thy cheek and cold, Colder thy kiss 5 Truly that hour foretold Sorrow to this. 136 POEMS. 2. The dew of the morning Sunk chill on my brow — It felt like the warning Of what J feel now. Thy vows are all broken, And light is thy fame ; I hear thy name spoken, And share in its shame. 3. They name thee before me, A knell to mine ear; A shudder comes o'er me— Why wert thou so dear? POEMS. 137 They know not I knew thee, Who knew thee too well :- Long, long shall I rue thee, Too deeply to tell. 4. In secret we met — In silence I grieve, That thy heart could forget, Thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee After long years, How should I greet thee? — With silence and tears. 1808. 138 POEMS. STANZAS FOR MUSIC * " O Lachryniarum fons, tenero sacros " Ducentium ortus ex ammo: quater " Felix ! in imo qui scatentem " Pectore te, pia Nympha, sensit." Ch'ay's Poemata. I. There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away, # When the glow of early thought declines in feel- ing's dull decay 5 * These Verses were given by Lord Byron to Mr. Power, Strand, who has published them, with very beautiful music by Sir John Stevenson. POEMS. 139 'Tis not on youth's smooth cheek the blush alone, which fades so fast, But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere youth itself be past. 2. Then the few whose spirits float above the wreck of happiness, Are driven o'er the shoals of guilt or ocean of excess : The magnet of their course is gone, or only points in vain fhe shore to which their shiver'd sail shall never stretch again. HO POEMS. 3. Then the mortal coldness of the soul like death itself comes down; It cannot feel for others' woes, it dare not dream its own; That heavy chill has frozen o'er the fountain of our tears* . And tho' the eye may sparkle f still, 'tis where the ice appears. 4. Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth -distract the breast, Through midnight hours that yield no more their former hope of rest; POEMS. 141 Tis but as ivy-leaves around the ruin'd turret wreath, All green and wildly fresh without, but worn and grey beneath. 5. Oh could I feel as I have felt, — or be what I have been, Or weep as I could Once have wept, o'er many a vanished scene : As springs in deserts found seem sweet, all brack- ish though they be, So midst the wither'd waste of life, those tears would flow to me. 1815. 142 poems. STANZAS FOR MUSIC. There be none of Beauty's daughters With a magic like thee ; And like music on the waters Is thy sweet voice to me : When, as if its sound were causing The charmed ocean's pausing, The waves lie still and gleaming, And the lulled winds seem dreaming, POEMS. 143 And the midnight moon is weaving Her bright chain o'er the deep ; Whose breast is gently heaving, As an infant's asleep : So the spirit bows before thee, To listen and adore thee $ With a full but soft emotion, Like the swell of Summer's ocean. Alas ! they had been friends in Youth ; But whispering tongues can poison truth; And constancy lives in realms above : And life is thorny ; and youth is vain r And to be wroth with one we love, Doth work like madness in the brain : But never either found another To free the hollow heart from paining— They stood aloof, the scars remaining, Like cliffs, which had been rent asunder; A dreary sea now flows between, But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder Shall wholly do away, I ween, The marks of that which once hath been. Coleridge's Christabel. POEMS. 145 FARE THEE WELL! Fare thee well ! and if for ever, Still for ever, fare thee well : Even though unforgiving, never 'Gainst thee shall my heart rebel. Would that breast were bared before thee Where thy head so oft hath lain, While that placid sleep came o'er thee Which thou ne'er canst know again : VOL/ v. 1. 14$ POEMS. Would that breast, by thee glanced over> Every inmost thought could show ! I'hen thou wouldst at last discover 'Twas not well to spurn it so. Though the world for this commend thee- Though it smile upon the blow, Even its praises must offend thee, Founded on another's woe — Though my many faults defaced me, Could no other arm be found Than the one which once embraced me, To inflict a cureless wound ? Yet, oh yet, thyself deceive not ; Love may sink by slow decay, But by sudden wrench, believe not Hearts can thus be torn away: POEMS. Still thine own its life retaineth — Still must mine, though bleeding, beat ; And the undying thought which paineth Is — that we no more may meet. These are words of deeper sorrow Than the wail above the dead ; Both shall live, but every morrow Wake us from a widowed bed. And when thou wouldst solace gather, When our child's first accents flow, Wilt thou teach her to say " Father !" Though his care she must forego ? When her little hands shall press thee, When her lip to thine is prest, Think of him whose prayer shall bless thee^ Think of him thy love had bless'd ! l 2 tf 148 POEMS. Should her lineaments resemble Those thou never more may'st see, Then thy heart will softly tremble With a pulse yet true to me. All my faults perchance thou knowest, All my madness none can know ; All my hopes, where'er thou goest, Wither — yet with thee they go. Every feeling hath been shaken ; Pride, which not a world could bow, JBows to thee-^-by thee forsaken, Even my soul forsakes me now : But 'tis done — all words are idle — Words from me are vainer still j But the thoughts we cannot bridle Force their way without the will. — poems. i4g Fare thee well! — thus disunited, Torn from every nearer tie, Seared in heart, and lone, and blighted— More than this I scarce can die. 350 POEMS. ODE. [FROM THE FRENCH.] I. We do not curse thee, Waterloo ! Though Freedom's blood thy plain bedew : There 'twas shed, but is not sunk- Rising from each gory trunk, Like the Water-spout from ocean, With a strong and growing motion — It soars, and mingles in the air, With that of lost Labedoyere — POEMS. 151 With that of him whose honoured grave Contains the tf bravest of the brave." A crimson cloud it spreads and glows, JJut shall return to whence it rose ; When 'tis full 'twill burst asunder — Never yet was heard such thunder As then shall shake the world with wonder — Never yet was seen such lightning, As o'er heaven shall then be bright'ning ! Like the Wormwood Star foretold By the sainted Seer of old, Show'ring down a fiery flood, Turning rivers into blood. ! II. The Chief has fallen, but not by you, Vanquishers of Waterloo! 131 POEMS. When the soldier citizen Swayed not o'er his fellow men- Save in deeds that led them on Where Glory smiled on Freedom's son—- Who, of all the despots banded, With that youthful chief competed } Who could boast o'er France defeated, Till lone Tyranny commanded ? Till, goaded by ambition's sting, The Hero sunk into the King ? Then he fell ; — So perish all, Who would men by man enthral ! III. And thou too of the snow-white plume ! Whose realm refused thee ev'n a tomb ; Q POEMS. 153 Better hadst thou still been leading France o'er hosts of hirelings bleeding, Than sold thyself to death and shame For a meanly royal name j Such as he of Naples wears, Who thy blood-bought title bears. Little didst thou deem, when dashing On thy war-horse through the ranks, Like a stream which burst its banks. While helmets cleft, and sabres clashing, Shone and shivered fast around thee— Of the fate at last which found thee : Was that haughty plume laid low By a slave's dishonest blow ? Once — as the Moon sways o'er the tide. It rolled in air, the warrior's guide j 154 POEMS. Through the smoke- created night Of the black and sulphurous fight, The soldier rais'd his seeking eye To catch that crest's ascendancy,— And, as it onward rolling rose, So moved his heart upon our foes. There, where death's brief pang was quickest, And the battle's wreck lay thickest, Strew'd beneath the advancing banner Of the eagle's burning crest — (There with thunder-clouds to fan her. Who could then her wing arrest- Victory beaming from her breast ?) While the broken line enlarging Fell, or fled along the plain ; There be sure was Murat charging! There he ne'er shall charge again ! POEMS. 155 IV. O'er glories gone the invaders march, Weeps Triumph o'er each levelTd arch — But let Freedom rejoice, With her heart in her voice ; But, her hand on her sword. Doubly shall she be adored ; France hath twice too well been taught The " moral lesson" dearly bought— Her Safety sits not on a throne, With Capet or Napoleon! But in equal rights and laws, Hearts and hands in one great cause — Freedom, such as God hath given Unto all beneath his heaven, With their breath, and from their birth, Though Guilt would sweep it from the earth ; 156 POEMS. With a fierce and lavish hand Scattering nations' wealth like sand j Pouring nations' blood like water, In imperial seas of slaughter ! V. But the heart and the mind, And the voice of mankind, Shall arise in communion — And who shall resist that proud union ? The time is past when swords subdu'd — Man may die — the soul's renew'd : Even in this low world of care Freedom ne'er shall want an heir ; Millions breathe but to inherit Her for ever bounding spirit— POEMS. 157 When once more her hosts assemble, Tyrants shall believe and tremble — Smile they at this idle threat ? Crimson tears will follow yet. 158 poems; [FKOM THE FRENCH.] " All wept, but particularly Savary, and a Polish officer who had been exalted from the ranks by Bonaparte. He clung to his master's knees: wrote a letter to Lord Keith, entreating per- mission to accompany him, even in the most menial capacity, •which could not be admitted." 1. Must thou go, my glorious Chief, Severed from thy faithful few ? Who can tell thy warrior's grief, Maddening o'er that long adieu ? Woman's love, and friendship's zeal, Dear as both have been to me — What are they to all I feel, With a soldier's faith for thee I POEMS.- 15Q> 2. Idol of the soldier's soul ! First in fight, but mightiest now: Many could a world control ; Thee alone no doom can bow. By thy side for years I dared Death 5 and envied those who fell, When their dying shout was heard, Blessing him they served so well. 3 3. Would that I were cold with those, Since this hour I live to see , When the doubts of coward foes Scarce dare trust a man with thee, 100 POEMS. Dreading each should set thee free. Oh ! although in dungeons pent, All their chains were light to me, Gazing on thy soul unbent. 4, Would the sycophants of him Now so deaf to duty's prayer, Were his borrowed glories dim, In his native darkness share ? Were that world this hour his own, All thou calmly dost resign, Could he purchase with that throne Hearts like those which still are thine ? POEMS. 161 5. My chief, my king, my friend, adieu ! Never did I droop before -, Never to my sovereign sue, As his foes I now implore. All I ask is to divide Every peril he must brave ; Sharing by the hero's side His fall, his exile, and his grave. vol. v. 162 POEMS. ON THE STAR OF " THE LEGION OF HONOUR." [FROM THE FRENCH.] I. Star of the brave!— whose beam hath shed Such glory o'er the quick and dead — Thou radiant and adored deceit ! Which millions rushed in arms to greet,— Wild meteor of immortal birth ! Why rise in Heaven to set on Earth ? POEMS. l6i 2. Souls of slain heroes formed thy rays j Eternity flashed through thy blaze ; The music of thy martial sphere Was fame on high and honour here ; And thy light broke on human eyes, Like a Volcano of the skies. 3. Like lava rolled thy stream of blood, And swept down empires with its flood ; Earth rocked beneath thee to her base, As thou didst lighten through all space ; And the shorn Sun grew dim in air, And set while thou wert dwelling there. m 2 164 POEMS* 4. Before thee rose> and with thee grew,, ' A rainbow of the loveliest hue Of three bright colours, 4 each divine, And fit for that celestial sign 5 For Freedom's hand had blended them, Like tints in an immortal gem. 5. One tint was of the sunbeam's dyes ; One, the blue depth of Seraph's eyes ; One, the pure Spirit's veil of white Had robed in radiance of its light : The three so mingled did beseem The texture of a heavenly dream. POEMS. 165 6. Star of the brave ! thy ray is pale, And darkness must again prevail ! But, oh thou Rainbow of the free ! Our tears and blood must flow for thee. When thy bright promise fades away, Our life is but a load of clay« 7. And Freedom hallows with her tread- The silent cities of the dead ; JFor beautiful in death are they Who proudly fall in her array -, And soon, oh Goddess ! may we be For evermore with them or thee ! 166 POEMS. NAPOLEON'S FAREWELL. [FROM THE FRENCH.] I. Farewell to the Land, where the gloom of my Glory Arose and o'ershadowed the earth with her name — She abandons me now., — but the page of her story,, The brightest or blackest, is filled with my fame. I have warred with a world which vanquished me only When the meteor of Conquest allured me too far ; POEMS. 167 I have coped with the nations which dread me thus lonely, The last single Captive to millions in war ! 2. Farewell to thee, France! — when thy diadem crowned me, I made thee the gem and the wonder of earth,— But thy weakness decrees I should leave as I found thee, Decayed in thy glory, and sunk in thy worth. Oh ! for the veteran hearts that were wasted In strife with the storm, when their battles were won — Then the Eagle, whose gaze in that moment was Had still soared with eyes fixed on victory's sun ! 1(5$ POEMS* 3. Farewell to thee, France ! — but when Liberty rallies Once more in thy regions, remember me then— The violet still grows in the depth of thy valleys ; Though withered, thy tears will unfold it again — Yet* yet, I may baffle the hosts that surround us > And yet may thy heart leap awake to my voice — There are links which must break in the chain that has bound us. Then turn thee and call on the Chief of thy choice ! POEMS, 169 TO SAMUEL ROGERS, ESQ. Absent or present, still to thee, My friend, what magic spells belong ! As all can tell, who share, like me, In turn thy converse, and thy song. But when the dreaded hour shall come By Friendship ever deemed too nigh, And " Memory" o'er her Druid's tomb Shall weep that aught of thee can die, 170 POEMS. How fondly will She then repay Thy homage offered at her shrine, And blend, while Ages roll away, Her name immortally with thine ! April iQth, 1812. POEMS. 171 MONODY ON THE DEATH OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE R. B. SHERIDAN. Spoken at Drnry Lane Theatre. When the last sunshine of expiring day In summer's twilight weeps itself away, Who hath not felt the softness of the hour Sink on the heart, as dew along the flower ? With a pure feeling which absorbs and awes While Nature makes that melancholy pause, Her breathing moment on the bridge where Time Of light and darkness forms an arch sublime, 172 POEMS. Who hath not shared that calm so still and deep, The voiceless thought which would not speak but weep, lQ A holy concord — and a bright regret, A glorious sympathy with suns that set } 'Tis not harsh sorrow — but a tenderer woe. Nameless, but dear to gentle hearts below, Felt without bitterness — but full and clear, A sweet dejection— -a transparent tear Unmixed with worldly grief or selfish stain, Shed without shame — and secret without pain. Even as the tenderness that hour instils When Summer's day declines along the hills, 20 So feels the fulness of our heart and eyes When all of Genius which can perish dies. POEMS. J 73 A mighty Spirit is eclipsed— a Power Hath passed from day to darkness — to whose hour Of light no likeness is bequeathed — no name., Focus at once of all the rays of Fame ! The flash of Wit — the bright Intelligence, The beam of Song — the blaze of Eloquence, Set with their Sun — but still have left behind The enduring produce of immortal Mind , 30 Fruits of a genial mom, and glorious noon, A deathless part of him who died too soon. But small that portion of the wondrous whole, These sparkling segments of that circling soul, Which all embraced — and lightened over all, To cheer — to pierce — to please — or to appal. From the charmed council to the festive board, Of human feelings the unbounded lord ; i;4 POEMS. In whose acclaim the loftiest voices vied, The praised — the proud — who made his praise their pride. 40 5 When the loud cry of trampled Hindostan Arose to Heaven in her appeal from man, His was the thunder — his the avenging rod, The wrath — the delegated voice of God ! Which shook the nations through his lips— and blazed Till vanquished senates trembled as they praised. And here, oh! here, where yet all young and warm The gay creations of his spirit charm, The matchless dialogue — the deathless wit, Which knew not what it was to intermit 3 50 POEMS. 175 The glowing portraits, fresh from life, that bring Home to our hearts the truth from which they spring 5 These wondrous beings of his Fancy, wrought To fulness by the fiat of his thought, Here in their first abode you still may meet, Bright with the hues of his Promethean heat ; A halo of the light of other days, Which still the splendour of its orb betrays. But should there be to whom the fatal blight Of failing Wisdom yields a base delight, 60 Men who exult when minds of heavenly tone Jar in the music which was born their own, Still let them pause — Ah ! little do they know That what to them seemed Vice might be but Woe. l?6 FOEM$* Hard is his fate on "whom the public gale Is fixed for ever to detract or praise j Repose denies her requiem to his name, And Folly loves the martyrdom of Fame. The secret enemy whose sleepless eye Stands sentinel — accuser — judge — and spy, 70 The foe — the fool — the jealous — and the vain, The envious who but breathe in others' pain, Behold the host ! delighting to deprave, Who track the steps ©f Glory to the grave, Watch every fault that daring Genius owes Half to the ardour which its birth bestows, Distort the truth, accumulate the lie, And pile the Pyramid of Calumny ! These are his portion — but if joined to these Gaunt Poverty should league with deep Disease, POEMS. 17 J If the high Spirit must forget to soar, 81 And stoop to strive with Misery at the door, To soothe Indignity — and face to face Meet sordid Rage — and wrestle with Disgrace, To find in Hope but the renewed caress, The serpent-fold of further Faithlessness,-— If such may be the Ills which men assail, What marvel if at last the mightiest fail ? Breasts to whom all the strength of feeling given Bear hearts electric — charged with fire from Heaven, go Black with the rude collision, inly torn, By clouds surrounded, and on whirlwinds borne, Driven o'er the lowering Atmosphere that nurst Thoughts which have turned to thunder — scorch — and burst. VOL. V. N 178 POKMS. But far from us and from our mimic scene Such things should be — if such have ever been ; Our's be the gentler wish, the kinder task, To give the tribute Glory need not ask, To mourn the vanished beam — and add our mite Of praise in payment of a long delight. 100 Ye Orators ! whom yet our councils yield, Mourn for the veteran Hero of your field ! The worthy rival of the wondrous Three ! 6 Whose words were sparks of Immortality ! Ye Bards ! to whom the Drama's Muse is dear, He was your Master — emulate him here I Ye men of wit and social eloquence ! He was your Brother — bear his ashes hence ! While Powers of Mind almost of boundless range, Complete in kind — as various in their change, 110 POEMS. 179 While Eloquence — Wit — Poesy — and Mirth, That humbler Harmonist of care on Earth, Survive within our souls — while lives our sense Of pride in Merit's proud pre-eminence, Long shall we seek his likeness — long in vain, And turn to all of him which may remain, Sighing that Nature formed but one such man, And broke the die — in moulding Sheridan ! 118 NOTES. NOTES. Note 1, page 151, line 13. Turning rivers into blood. See Rev. chap. viii. verse 7, &c. "The first angel sounded, * and there followed fire and hail mingled with blood," &c. Verse 8. " And the second angel sounded, and as it were a " great mountain burning with fire was cast into the sea; and " the third part of the sea became blood," &c. Verse 10. "And the third angel sounded, and there fell a " great star from heaven, burning as it were a lamp; and it fell " upon a third part of the rivers, and upon the fountains of " waters." Verse 11. " And the name of the star is called Wormwood : " and the third part of the waters became wormv)ood; and many *' men died of the waters, because they were made bitter." Note 2, page 152, line last. Whose realm refused thee even a tomb. Murat's remains are said to have been torn from the grave and burnt. Note 3, page 159, line 8. Blessing him they served so well. " At Waterloo, one man was seen, whose left arm was shattered 184 NOTES. by a cannon ball, to wrench it off with the other, and throwing it up in the air, exclaimed to his comrades, ' Vive l'Empereur, jusqu'k la mort.' There were many other instances of the like : this you may, however, depend on as true." A private letter from Brusteh, Note 4, page 1 64, line 1 . Of three bright colours, each divine. The tri-colour. Note 5, page 174, line 3. When the loud cry of trampled Hindostan* See Fox, Burke, and Pitt's eulogy on Mr. Sheridan's speech on the charges exhibited against Mr. Hastings in the House of Com- mons. Mr. Pitt entreated the House to adjourn, to give time for a calmer consideration of the question than could then occur after the immediate effect of that oration. Note 6, page 178, line 9. The worthy rival of the wondrous Three! Fox—Pitt— Burke. END OF THE FIFTH YOLUME. T. Davison, Lombard-street, Whitefriars, London.