Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 2.djvu/255

CANTO III.] Long absent re-appears at last;

He of the breast which fain no more would feel,

Wrung with the wounds which kill not, but ne'er heal;

Yet Time, who changes all, had altered him

In soul and aspect as in age: years steal

Fire from the mind as vigour from the limb;

And Life's enchanted cup but sparkles near the brim.

IX.

His had been quaffed too quickly, and he found

The dregs were wormwood; but he filled again,

And from a purer fount, on holier ground,

And deemed its spring perpetual—but in vain!

Still round him clung invisibly a chain

Which galled for ever, fettering though unseen,

And heavy though it clanked not; worn with pain,

Which pined although it spoke not, and grew keen,

Entering with every step he took through many a scene.