Manfred (With Byron's Biography). Lord Byron

Manfred (With Byron's Biography) - Lord  Byron


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Oh! I but thus prolonged my words, Boasting these idle attributes, because As I approach the core of my heart's grief— But—to my task. I have not named to thee100 Father or mother, mistress, friend, or being, With whom I wore the chain of human ties; If I had such, they seemed not such to me— Yet there was One——

      Witch. Spare not thyself—proceed.

      Man. She was like me in lineaments—her eyes— Her hair—her features—all, to the very tone Even of her voice, they said were like to mine; But softened all, and tempered into beauty: She had the same lone thoughts and wanderings, The quest of hidden knowledge, and a mind110 To comprehend the Universe: nor these Alone, but with them gentler powers than mine, Pity, and smiles, and tears—which I had not; And tenderness—but that I had for her; Humility—and that I never had. Her faults were mine—her virtues were her own— I loved her, and destroyed her!

      Witch. With thy hand?

      Man. Not with my hand, but heart, which broke her heart; It gazed on mine, and withered. I have shed Blood, but not hers—and yet her blood was shed;120 I saw—and could not stanch it.

      Witch. And for this— A being of the race thou dost despise— The order, which thine own would rise above, Mingling with us and ours,—thou dost forego The gifts of our great knowledge, and shrink'st back To recreant mortality——Away!

      Witch. It may be150 That I can aid thee.

      Man. To do this thy power Must wake the dead, or lay me low with them. Do so—in any shape—in any hour— With any torture—so it be the last.

      Witch. That is not in my province; but if thou Wilt swear obedience to my will, and do My bidding, it may help thee to thy wishes.

      Man. I will not swear—Obey! and whom? the Spirits Whose presence I command, and be the slave Of those who served me—Never!

      Witch. Is this all?160 Hast thou no gentler answer?—Yet bethink thee, And pause ere thou rejectest.

      Man. I have said it.

      Witch. Enough! I may retire then—say!

      Man. Retire! The Witch disappears.

      Enter First Destiny.

      The Moon is rising broad, and round, and bright;

      A Voice without, singing.

      The Captive Usurper,

       Hurled down from the throne,

       Lay buried in torpor,

       Forgotten and lone;

       I broke through his slumbers,20

       I shivered his chain,

       I leagued him with numbers—

       He's Tyrant again!

       With the blood of a million he'll answer my care,

      Second Voice, without.

      The Ship sailed on, the Ship sailed fast,

       But I left not a sail, and I left not a mast;

       There is not a plank of the hull or the deck,

       And there is not a wretch to lament o'er his wreck;

       Save one, whom I held, as he swam, by the hair,30

       And he was a subject well worthy my care;

      First Destiny, answering.

      The City lies sleeping;

       The morn, to deplore it,

       May dawn on it weeping:

       Sullenly, slowly,

       The black plague flew o'er it—

      


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