The Works of Lord Byron Volume I Part 44

77.

What minstrel grey, what h.o.a.ry bard, Shall Allan's deeds on harp-strings raise?

The song is glory's chief reward, But who can strike a murd'rer's praise?

78.

Unstrung, untouch'd, the harp must stand, No minstrel dare the theme awake; Guilt would benumb his palsied hand, His harp in shuddering chords would break.

79.

No lyre of fame, no hallow'd verse, Shall sound his glories high in air: A dying father's bitter curse, A brother's death-groan echoes there.

[Footnote 1: The catastrophe of this tale was suggested by the story of "Jeronymo and Lorenzo," in the first volume of Schiller's 'Armenian, or the Ghost-Seer'. It also bears some resemblance to a scene in the third act of 'Macbeth'.--['Der Geisterseher', Schiller's 'Werke' (1819), x.

97, 'sq'.]

[Footnote 2: It is evident that Byron here confused the 'pibroch', the air, with the 'bagpipe', the instrument.]

[Footnote 3: Beltane Tree, a Highland festival on the first of May, held near fires lighted for the occasion.]

[Footnote i:

'She view'd the gasping'----.

['Hours of Idleness'.]]

[Footnote ii:

'When many an eye which ne'er again Could view'----.

['Hours of Idleness'.]]

[Footnote iii:

'Internal fears'----.

['Hours of Idleness'.]]

[Footnote iv:

'Old Angus prest, the earth with his breast'.

['Hours of Idleness'.]]

TRANSLATION FROM ANACREON.

[Greek: Thel_o legein Atpeidas, k.t.l.] [1]

ODE 1.

TO HIS LYRE.

I wish to tune my quivering lyre, [i]

To deeds of fame, and notes of fire; To echo, from its rising swell, How heroes fought and nations fell, When Atreus' sons advanc'd to war, Or Tyrian Cadmus rov'd afar; But still, to martial strains unknown, My lyre recurs to Love alone.

Fir'd with the hope of future fame, [ii]

I seek some n.o.bler Hero's name; The dying chords are strung anew, To war, to war, my harp is due: With glowing strings, the Epic strain To Jove's great son I raise again; Alcides and his glorious deeds, Beneath whose arm the Hydra bleeds; All, all in vain; my wayward lyre Wakes silver notes of soft Desire.

Adieu, ye Chiefs renown'd in arms!

Adieu the clang of War's alarms! [iii]

To other deeds my soul is strung, And sweeter notes shall now be sung; My harp shall all its powers reveal, To tell the tale my heart must feel; Love, Love alone, my lyre shall claim, In songs of bliss and sighs of flame.

[Footnote 1: The motto does not appear in 'Hours of Idleness' or 'Poems O. and T.']

[Footnote i: 'I sought to tune'----.--['MS. Newstead'.]]

[Footnote ii:

'The chords resumed a second strain, To Jove's great son I strike again.

Alcides and his glorious deeds, Beneath whose arm the Hydra bleeds'.

['MS. Newstead'.]]

[Footnote iii: