As if the Memory of some deadly feud
Or disappointed passion lurked below:
But this none knew, nor haply cared to know;
For his was not that open, artless soul
That feels relief by bidding sorrow flow,
Nor sought he friend to counsel or condole,
Whate'er this grief mote be, which he could not control.
IX.[1]
And none did love him!—though to hall and bower[2]
- ↑ Stanza ix. was the result of much elaboration. The first draft, which was pasted over the rejected stanzas (vide supra, p. 20, var i.), retains the numerous erasures and emendations. It ran as follows:—
And none did love him though to hall and bower
few could
Haughty he gathered revellers from far and near
An evil smile just bordering on a sneer
He knew them flatterers of the festal hour
Curled on his lip
The heartless Parasites of present cheer
As if
And deemed no mortal wight his peer
Yea! none did love him not his lemmans dear
To gentle Dames still less he could be dear
Were aughtBut pomp and power alone are Woman's care
ButAnd where these are let no Possessor fear
The sex are slavesMaidens like moths are ever caught by glare
Love shrinks outshone by Mammon's dazzlingglare
And Mammon
That Demonwins his [MS. torn] where Angels might despair. - ↑ [The "trivial particular" which suggested to Byron the
And hail, ye hills, and murmuring waterfalls,
Where yet her head the ruin'd Abbey rears.
No longer now the matin tolling bell,
Re-echoing loud among the woody glade,
Calls the fat abbot from his drowsy cell,
And warns the maid to flee, if yet a maid.
No longer now the festive bowl goes round,
Nor monks get drunk in honour of their God."]}}
