Harold, once more within the vortex, rolled
On with the giddy circle, chasing Time,
Yet with a nobler aim than in his Youth's fond prime.[1][2]
XII.
But soon he knew himself the most unfit[3]
Of men to herd with Man, with whom he held
Little in common; untaught to submit
His thoughts to others, though his soul was quelled
In youth by his own thoughts; still uncompelled,
He would not yield dominion of his mind
To Spirits against whom his own rebelled,
Proud though in desolation—which could find
A life within itself, to breathe without mankind.
XIII.
Where rose the mountains, there to him were friends;[4]
- ↑ Yet with a steadier step than in his earlier time.—[MS. erased].
- ↑ [Compare Manfred, act ii. sc. 2, lines 50-58—
"From my youth upwards
My spirit walked not with the souls of men,
Nor looked upon the earth with human eyes; ····· My joys, my griefs, my passions, and my powers
Made me a stranger; though I wore the form,
I had no sympathy with breathing flesh."Compare, too, with stanzas xiii., xiv., ibid., lines 58-72.]
- ↑ Fool he not to know.—[MS. erased.]
- ↑
Where there were mountains there for him were friends.
Where there was Ocean—there he was at home.—[MS.]
