Chapter 8

Through many a clime 'tis mine to go, With many a retrospection curst; And all my solace is to know, Whate'er betides, I've known the worst. What is that worst? Nay, do not ask-- In pity from the search forbear: Smile on--nor venture to unmask Man's heart, and view the hell that's there. LXXXV. Adieu, fair Cadiz! yea, a long adieu! Who may forget how well thy walls have stood? When all were changing, thou alone wert true, First to be free, and last to be subdued. And if amidst a scene, a sh…