Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/211

Rh 7.

Perish the fiend! whose iron heart

To fair affection's truth unknown,

Bids her he fondly lov'd depart,

Unpitied, helpless, and alone;

Who ne'er unlocks with silver key,

The milder treasures of his soul;

May such a friend be far from me,

And Ocean's storms between us roll!

LACHIN Y GAIR.

1.

, ye gay landscapes, ye gardens of roses!

In you let the minions of luxury rove;

Restore me the rocks, where the snow-flake reposes,

Though still they are sacred to freedom and love:

Yet, Caledonia, belov'd are thy mountains,

Round their white summits though elements war;