歌词
Sonnet on Chillon
George Gordon Byron
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 consign'd --
To fetters, and the damp vault's dayless gloom,
Their country conquers with their martyrdom,
And Freedom's fame finds wings on every wind.
Chillon! thy prison is a holy place,
And thy sad floor an 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.