Explore "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage" by Lord Byron on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
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.