On the Castle of Chillon
ETERNAL Spirit of the chainless Mind!
Brightest in dungeons Liberty! thou art
For there thy habitation is the heart¡ª
The heart which love of Thee alone can bind.
And when thy sons to fetters are consign'd 5
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 10
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.
George (Lord) Byron
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