I.—CHILDE HAROLD.
Lo, a large, black-shrouded barge
Sadly moves with sails outspread,
And mute creatures' muffled features
Hold grim watch above the dead.
Calm below it lies the poet,
With his fair face bare and white,
Still with yearning ever turning
Azure eyes toward heaven's light.
As he saileth, sadly waileth
Some bereaven Undine bride:
O'er the springing waves outringing,
Hark! a dirge floats far and wide.