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MY hair is gray, but not with years, | |
Nor grew it white | |
In a single night, | |
As mens have grown from sudden fears; | |
My limbs are bowd, though not with toil, | 5 |
But rusted with a vile repose, | |
For they have been a dungeons spoil, | |
And mine has been the fate of those | |
To whom the goodly earth and air | |
Are bannd, and barrdforbidden fare; | 10 |
But this was for my fathers faith | |
I sufferd chains and courted death; | |
That father perishd at the stake | |
For tenets he would not forsake; | |
And for the same his lineal race | 15 |
In darkness found a dwelling-place. | |
We were sevenwho now are one, | |
Six in youth, and one in age, | |
Finishd as they had begun, | |
Proud of Persecutions rage; | 20 |
One in fire, and two in field | |
Their belief with blood have seald, | |
Dying as their father died, | |
For the God their foes denied; | |
Three were in a dungeon cast, | 25 |
Of whom this wreck is left the last. | |
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There are seven pillars of Gothic mould, | |
In Chillons dungeons deep and old, | |
There are seven columns, massy and gray, | |
Dim with a dull imprisond ray, | 30 |
A sunbeam which hath lost its way, | |
And through the crevice and the cleft | |
Of the thick wall is fallen and left; | |
Creeping oer the floor so damp, | |
Like a marshs meteor lamp. | 35 |
And in each pillar there is a ring, | |
And in each ring there is a chain; | |
That iron is a cankering thing, | |
For in these limbs its teeth remain, | |
With marks that will not wear away, | 40 |
Till I have done with this new day, | |
Which now is painful to these eyes, | |
Which have not seen the sun so rise | |
For yearsI cannot count them oer, | |
I lost their long and heavy score, | 45 |
When my last brother droopd and died, | |
And I lay living by his side. | |
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They chaind us each to a column stone, | |
And we were threeyet, each alone; | |
We could not move a single pace, | 50 |
We could not see each others face, | |
But with that pale and livid light | |
That made us strangers in our sight: | |
And thus togetheryet apart, | |
Fetterd in hand, but joind in heart, | 55 |
Twas still some solace, in the dearth | |
Of the pure elements of earth, | |
To hearken to each others speech, | |
And each turn comforter to each | |
With some new hope, or legend old, | 60 |
Or song heroically bold; | |
But even these at length grew cold, | |
Our voices took a dreary tone, | |
An echo of the dungeon stone, | |
A grating sound, not full and free, | 65 |
As they of yore were wont to be; | |
It might be fancy, but to me | |
They never sounded like our own. | |
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I was the eldest of the three, | |
And to uphold and cheer the rest | 70 |
I ought to doand did my best; | |
And each did well in his degree. | |
The youngest, whom my father loved, | |
Because our mothers brow was given | |
To him, with eyes as blue as heaven | 75 |
For him my soul was sorely moved; | |
And truly might it be distressd | |
To see such bird in such a nest; | |
For he was beautiful as day | |
(When day was beautiful to me | 80 |
As to young eagles, being free) | |
A polar day, which will not see | |
A sunset till its summers gone, | |
Its sleepless summer of long light, | |
The snow-clad offspring of the sun: | 85 |
And thus he was as pure and bright, | |
And in his natural spirit gay, | |
With tears for nought but others ills; | |
And then they flowd like mountain rills, | |
Unless he could assuage the woe | 90 |
Which he abhorrd to view below. | |
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The other was as pure of mind, | |
But formd to combat with his kind; | |
Strong in his frame, and of a mood | |
Which gainst the world in war had stood, | 95 |
And perishd in the foremost rank | |
With joy:but not in chains to pine: | |
His spirit witherd with their clank, | |
I saw it silently decline | |
And so perchance in sooth did mine: | 100 |
But yet I forced it on to cheer | |
Those relics of a home so dear. | |
He was a hunter of the hills, | |
Had followd there the deer and wolf; | |
To him this dungeon was a gulf, | 105 |
And fetterd feet the worst of ills. | |
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Lake Leman lies by Chillons walls: | |
A thousand feet in depth below | |
Its massy waters meet and flow; | |
Thus much the fathom-line was sent | 110 |
From Chillons snow-white battlement | |
Which round about the wave inthrals: | |
A double dungeon wall and wave | |
Have madeand like a living grave. | |
Below the surface of the lake | 115 |
The dark vault lies wherein we lay, | |
We heard it ripple night and day; | |
Sounding oer our heads it knockd; | |
And I have felt the winters spray | |
Wash through the bars when winds were high | 120 |
And wanton in the happy sky; | |
And then the very rock hath rockd, | |
And I have felt it shake, unshockd | |
Because I could have smiled to see | |
The death that would have set me free. | 125 |
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I said my nearer brother pined, | |
I said his mighty heart declined, | |
He loathed and put away his food; | |
It was not that twas coarse and rude, | |
For we were used to hunters fare, | 130 |
And for the like had little care. | |
The milk drawn from the mountain goat | |
Was changed for water from the moat, | |
Our bread was such as captives tears | |
Have moistened many a thousand years, | 135 |
Since man first pent his fellow men | |
Like brutes within an iron den; | |
But what were these to us or him? | |
These wasted not his heart or limb; | |
My brothers soul was of that mould | 140 |
Which in a palace had grown cold, | |
Had his free breathing been denied | |
The range of the steep mountains side. | |
But why delay the truth?he died. | |
I saw, and could not hold his head, | 145 |
Nor reach his dying handnor dead, | |
Though hard I strove, but strove in vain | |
To rend and gnash my bonds in twain. | |
He died,and they unlockd his chain, | |
And scoopd for him a shallow grave | 150 |
Even from the cold earth of our cave. | |
I beggd them, as a boon, to lay | |
His corse in dust whereon the day | |
Might shineit was a foolish thought, | |
But then within my brain it wrought, | 155 |
That even in death his freeborn breast | |
In such a dungeon could not rest. | |
I might have spared my idle prayer; | |
They coldly laughdand laid him there: | |
The flat and turfless earth above | 160 |
The being we so much did love; | |
His empty chain above it leant, | |
Such murders fitting monument! | |
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But he, the favourite and the flower, | |
Most cherishd since his natal hour, | 165 |
His mothers image in fair face, | |
The infant love of all his race, | |
His martyrd fathers dearest thought, | |
My latest care for whom I sought | |
To hoard my life, that his might be | 170 |
Less wretched now, and one day free; | |
He, too, who yet had held untired | |
A spirit natural or inspired | |
He, too, was struck, and day by day | |
Was witherd on the stalk away. | 175 |
Oh, God! it is a fearful thing | |
To see the human soul take wing | |
In any shape, in any mood: | |
Ive seen it rushing forth in blood, | |
Ive seen it on the breaking ocean | 180 |
Strive with a swoln convulsive motion, | |
Ive seen the sick and ghastly bed | |
Of Sin delirious with its dread: | |
But these were horrorsthis was woe | |
Unmixd with suchbut sure and slow. | 185 |
He faded, and so calm and meek, | |
So softly worn, so sweetly weak, | |
So tearless, yet so tenderkind, | |
And grieved for those he left behind; | |
With all the while a cheek whose bloom | 190 |
Was as a mockery of the tomb, | |
Whose tints as gently sunk away | |
As a departing rainbows ray; | |
An eye of most transparent light, | |
That almost made the dungeon bright; | 195 |
And not a word of murmur, not | |
A groan oer his untimely lot, | |
A little talk of better days, | |
A little hope my own to raise, | |
For I was sunk in silencelost | 200 |
In this last loss, of all the most; | |
And then the sighs he would suppress | |
Of fainting natures feebleness, | |
More slowly drawn, grew less and less. | |
I listend, but I could not hear | 205 |
I calld, for I was wild with fear; | |
I knew t was hopeless, but my dread | |
Would not be thus admonishèd. | |
I calld, and thought I heard a sound | |
I burst my chain with one strong bound, | 210 |
And rushd to him:I found him not, | |
I only stirrd in this black spot, | |
I only lived, I only drew | |
The accursèd breath of dungeon-dew; | |
The lastthe solethe dearest link | 215 |
Between me and the eternal brink, | |
Which bound me to my failing race, | |
Was broken in this fatal place. | |
One on the earth, and one beneath | |
My brothersboth had ceased to breathe: | 220 |
I took that hand which lay so still, | |
Alas! my own was full as chill; | |
I had not strength to stir, or strive, | |
But felt that I was still alive | |
A frantic feeling, when we know | 225 |
That what we love shall neer be so. | |
I know not why | |
I could not die, | |
I had no earthly hopebut faith, | |
And that forbade a selfish death. | 230 |
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What next befell me then and there | |
I know not wellI never knew; | |
First came the loss of light, and air, | |
And then of darkness too: | |
I had no thought, no feelingnone | 235 |
Among the stones, I stood a stone, | |
And was, scarce conscious what I wist, | |
As shrubless crags within the mist; | |
For all was blank, and bleak, and gray; | |
It was not nightit was not day; | 240 |
It was not even the dungeon-light, | |
So hateful to my heavy sight, | |
But vacancy absorbing space, | |
And fixednesswithout a place; | |
There were no stars, no earth, no time, | 245 |
No check, no change, no good, no crime, | |
But silence, and a stirless breath | |
Which neither was of life nor death; | |
A sea of stagnant idleness, | |
Blind, boundless, mute, and motionless! | 250 |
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A light broke in upon my brain, | |
It was the carol of a bird; | |
It ceased, and then it came again, | |
The sweetest song ear ever heard, | |
And mine was thankful till my eyes | 255 |
Ran over with the glad surprise, | |
And they that moment could not see | |
I was the mate of misery. | |
But then by dull degrees came back | |
My senses to their wonted track; | 260 |
I saw the dungeon walls and floor | |
Close slowly round me as before, | |
I saw the glimmer of the sun | |
Creeping as it before had done, | |
But through the crevice where it came | 265 |
That bird was perched, as fond and tame, | |
And tamer than upon the tree; | |
A lovely bird, with azure wings, | |
And song that said a thousand things, | |
And seemed to say them all for me! | 270 |
I never saw its like before, | |
I neer shall see its likeness more; | |
It seemed like me to want a mate, | |
But was not half so desolate, | |
And it was come to love me when | 275 |
None lived to love me so again, | |
And cheering from my dungeons brink, | |
Had brought me back to feel and think. | |
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I know not if it late were free, | |
Or broke its cage to perch on mine, | 280 |
But knowing well captivity, | |
Sweet bird! I could not wish for thine! | |
Or if it were, in wingèd guise, | |
A visitant from Paradise; | |
ForHeaven forgive that thought! the while | 285 |
Which made me both to weep and smile | |
I sometimes deemd that it might be | |
My brothers soul come down to me; | |
But then at last away it flew, | |
And then twas mortal well I knew, | 290 |
For he would never thus have flown, | |
And left me twice so doubly lone, | |
Loneas the corse within its shroud, | |
Loneas a solitary cloud, | |
A single cloud on a sunny day, | 295 |
While all the rest of heaven is clear, | |
A frown upon the atmosphere | |
That hath no business to appear | |
When skies are blue and earth is gay. | |
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A kind of change came in my fate, | 300 |
My keepers grew compassionate; | |
I know not what had made them so, | |
They were inured to sights of woe, | |
But so it was:my broken chain | |
With links unfastend did remain, | 305 |
And it was liberty to stride | |
Along my cell from side to side, | |
And up and down, and then athwart, | |
And tread it over every part; | |
And round the pillars one by one, | 310 |
Returning where my walk begun, | |
Avoiding only, as I trod, | |
My brothers graves without a sod; | |
For if I thought with heedless tread | |
My steps profaned their lowly bed, | 315 |
My breath came gaspingly and thick, | |
And my crushd heart fell blind and sick. | |
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I made a footing in the wall, | |
It was not therefrom to escape, | |
For I had buried one and all | 320 |
Who loved me in a human shape; | |
And the whole earth would henceforth be | |
A wider prison unto me: | |
No child, no sire, no kin had I, | |
No partner in my misery; | 325 |
I thought of this, and I was glad, | |
For thought of them had made me mad; | |
But I was curious to ascend | |
To my barrd windows, and to bend | |
Once more, upon the mountains high, | 330 |
The quiet of a loving eye. | |
I saw themand they were the same. | |
They were not changed like me in frame; | |
I saw their thousand years of snow | |
On hightheir wide long lake below, | 335 |
And the blue Rhone in fullest flow; | |
I heard the torrents leap and gush | |
Oer channelld rock and broken bush; | |
I saw the white-walld distant town, | |
And whiter sails go skimming down; | 340 |
And then there was a little isle, | |
Which in my very face did smile, | |
The only one in view; | |
A small green isle, it seemd no more, | |
Scarce broader than my dungeon floor, | 345 |
But in it there were three tall trees, | |
And oer it blew the mountain breeze, | |
And by it there were waters flowing, | |
And on it there were young flowers growing | |
Of gentle breath and hue. | 350 |
The fish swam by the castle wall, | |
And they seemd joyous each and all; | |
The eagle rode the rising blast, | |
Methought he never flew so fast | |
As then to me he seemd to fly; | 355 |
And then new tears came in my eye, | |
And I felt troubled and would fain | |
I had not left my recent chain. | |
And when I did descend again, | |
The darkness of my dim abode | 360 |
Fell on me as a heavy load; | |
It was as is a new-dug grave, | |
Closing oer one we sought to save; | |
And yet my glance, too much opprest, | |
Had almost need of such a rest. | 365 |
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It might be months, or years, or days | |
I kept no count, I took no note, | |
I had no hope my eyes to raise, | |
And clear them of their dreary mote. | |
At last men came to set me free; | 370 |
I askd not why, and reckd not where, | |
It was at length the same to me, | |
Fetterd or fetterless to be, | |
I learnd to love despair. | |
And thus when they appeard at last, | 375 |
And all my bonds aside were cast, | |
These heavy walls to me had grown | |
A hermitageand all my own! | |
And half I felt as they were come | |
To tear me from a second home: | 380 |
With spiders I had friendship made, | |
And watchd them in their sullen trade, | |
Had seen the mice by moonlight play, | |
And why should I feel less than they? | |
We were all inmates of one place, | 385 |
And I, the monarch of each race, | |
Had power to killyet, strange to tell! | |
In quiet we had learnd to dwell | |
My very chains and I grew friends, | |
So much a long communion tends | 390 |
To make us what we are:even I | |
Regaind my freedom with a sigh. | |
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