On Chillon
Eternal Spirit of the chainless Mind!
Brightest in dungeons, Liberty, thou art:
For there thy habitation is the heart-
The heart which love of thee alone can bind;
And when thy sons to fetters are consigned,
-To fetters, and the damp vault´s dayless gloom-
Their country conquers with their martyrdom,
And Freedom´s fame finds wings on every mind.
Chillon! thy prison is a holy place,
And thy sad floor and altar, for ´twas trod,
Until his very steps have left a trace,
Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod,
By Bonnivard.-May none those marks efface!
For they appeal from tyranny to God.
Byron
Pintura: Gustave Courbet
probablemente en esos parajes junto a la familia Shelley, en alguna tarde antes de morir en la guerra civil de Grecia, el bello cojuelo de Newstand, ideo en su afiebrada mente el monstruo de frankestein, aun cuando su fealdad lo marcaba eramas humano que su creador.
ReplyDeleteseguramente tambien en estos parajes hizo sufrir mucho a Polidori, con su aterrador vampiro, mucho antes que Stocker.