Childe Harold's Pilgrimage

   By Heaven! it is a splendid sight to see
   (For one who hath no friend, no brother there)
   Their rival scarfs of mixed embroidery,
   Their various arms that glitter in the air! 
   What gallant war-hounds rouse them from their lair,
   And gnash their fangs, loud yelling for the prey! 
   All join the chase, but few the triumph share: 
   The Grave shall bear the chiefest prize away,
And Havoc scarce for joy can cumber their array.