Read "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage" by Lord Byron online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
I Is thy face like thy mother's, my fair child! Ada! sole daughter of my house and heart? When last I saw thy young blue eyes, they smiled, And then we parted-not as now we part, but with a hope. Awaking with a start, the waters heave around me; and on high the winds lift up their voices: I depart, whither I know not; but the hour's gone by, when Albion's lessening shores could grieve or gladden mine eye.
II Once more upon the waters! yet once more! And the waves bound beneath me as a steed that knows his rider. Welcome to their roar! Swift be their guidance, wheresoe'er it lead! Though the strained mast should quiver as a reed, and the rent canvas, fluttering, strew the gale, still must I on; for I am as a weed, flung from the rock, on Ocean's foam, to sail where'er the surge may sweep, the tempest's breath prevail.