Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 2.djvu/58

24 XI.

His house, his home, his heritage, his lands,

The laughing dames in whom he did delight,

Whose large blue eyes, fair locks, and snowy hands,

Might shake the Saintship of an Anchorite,

And long had fed his youthful appetite;

His goblets brimmed with every costly wine,

And all that mote to luxury invite,

Without a sigh he left, to cross the brine,

And traverse Paynim shores, and pass Earth's central line.

XII.

The sails were filled, and fair the light winds blew,

As glad to waft him from his native home;

And fast the white rocks faded from his view,

And soon were lost in circumambient foam:

And then, it may be, of his wish to roam

Repented he, but in his bosom slept