Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 2.djvu/161

CANTO II.] Robed half in mist, bedewed with snowy rills,

Arrayed in many a dun and purple streak,

Arise; and, as the clouds along them break,

Disclose the dwelling of the mountaineer:

Here roams the wolf—the eagle whets his beak—

Birds—beasts of prey—and wilder men appear,

And gathering storms around convulse the closing year.

XLIII.

Now Harold felt himself at length alone,

And bade to Christian tongues a long adieu;

Now he adventured on a shore unknown,

Which all admire, but many dread to view:

His breast was armed 'gainst fate, his wants were few;

Peril he sought not, but ne'er shrank to meet:

The scene was savage, but the scene was new;

This made the ceaseless toil of travel sweet,

Beat back keen Winter's blast, and welcomed Summer's heat.

XLIV.

Here the red Cross, for still the Cross is here,

Though sadly scoffed at by the circumcised,