Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 2.djvu/288

252 But Peace destroyed what War could never blight,

And laid those proud roofs bare to Summer's rain—

On which the iron shower for years had poured in vain.

LIX.

Adieu to thee, fair Rhine! How long delighted

The stranger fain would linger on his way!

Thine is a scene alike where souls united

Or lonely Contemplation thus might stray;

And could the ceaseless vultures cease to prey

On self-condemning bosoms, it were here,

Where Nature, nor too sombre nor too gay,

Wild but not rude, awful yet not austere,

Is to the mellow Earth as Autumn to the year.

LX.

Adieu to thee again! a vain adieu!

There can be no farewell to scene like thine;