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If I should meet thee
After long years, How should I greet thee?
With silence and tears.
These lips are mute, these eyes are dry;
But in my breast and in my brain Awake the pangs that pass not by,
The thought that ne'er shall sleep again.
Though grief and passion there rebel:
BRIGHT BE THE PLACE OF THY SOUL.
No lovelier spirit than thine
In the orbs of the blessed to shine.
As thy soul shall immortally be;
When we know that thy God is with thee.
May its verdure like emeralds be:
In aught that reminds us of thee.
May spring from the spot of thy rest:
For why should we mourn for the blest?
WHEN WE TWO PARTED.
When we two parted
In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted,
To sever for years, Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Sorrow to this.
Sunk chill on my brow-
Of what I feel now. Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame; I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.
A knell to mine ear;
Why wert thou so dear?
Who knew thee too well;Long, long shall I rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.
In silence I grieve,
Thy spirit deceive.
TO A YOUTHFUL FRIEND.(1) Few years have pass'd since thou and I
Were firmest friends, at least in name, And childhood's gay sincerity
Preserved our feelings long the same. But now, like me, too well thou know'st
What trifles oft the heart recall;
Too soon forget they loved at all.
So frail is early friendship's reign,
Will view thy mind estranged again.
To mourn the loss of such a heart;
Which made thee fickle as thou art. As rolls the ocean's changing tide,
So human feelings ebb and flow; And who would in a breast confide
Where stormy passions ever glow? It boots not that, together bred,
Our childish days were days of joy: My spring of life bas quickly fled;
Thou, too, hast ceased to be a boy. And when we bid adieu to youth,
Slaves to the specious world's control,
That world corrupts the noblest soal.
Dares all things boldly but to lie;
And sparkles in the placid eye. Not so in man's maturer years,
When man himself is but a tool! When interest sways our hopes and fears,
And all must love and hate by rule. With fools, in kindred vice the same,
We learn at length our faults to blend; And, those, and those alone, may claim
The prostituted name of friend. Such is the common lot of man:
Can we then 'scape from fully free? Can we reverse the general plan,
Nor be what all in turn must be ? No! for myself, so dark my fate
Through every turn of life hath been; Man and the world so much I hate,
I care not when I quit the scene. But thou, with spirit frail and light,
Wilt shine a while, and pass away;
(1) This copy of verses, and that which follows, originally | tions, together with Original Poems, and bearing the model appeared in the volume published, in 1809, by Mr. (now Sir epigraph-“Nos hac novimus esse nihil.”-L.E. Johu, Hobhouse, under the title of Imitations and Transla.
And when, alas! our brains are gone,
What nobler substitute than wine ?
When thou and thine, like me, are sped,
And rhyme and revel with the dead.
Our heads such sad effects produce?
Newstead Abbey, 1808.
As glow-worms sparkle through the night,
But dare not stand the test of day. Alas! wherever Folly calls,
Where parasites and princes meet (For, cherish'd first in royal balls,
The welcome vices kindly greet), Ev'n now thou’rt nightly seen to add
One insect to the fluttering crowd; And still thy trifling heart is glad
To join the vain, and court the proud. There dost thou glide from fair to fair,
Still simpering on with eager haste; As flies along the gay parterre,
That taint the flowers they scarcely taste. But say, what nymph will prize the flame
Which seems, as marshy vapours move, To flit along, from dame to dame,
An ignis-fatuus gleam of love? What friend for thee, howe'er inclined,
Will deign to own a kindred care? Who will debase his manly mind,
For friendship every fool may share?
No more so base a thing be seen;
LINES INSCRIBED UPON A CUP FORMED
FROM A SKULL.(1) Start not-nor deem my spirit fled :
In me behold the only skull
Whatever flows is never dull.
I died: let earth my bones resign:
The worm hath fouler lips than thine. Better to hold the sparkling grape,
Than nurse the earth-worm's slimy brood; And circle in the goblet's shape
The drink of gods, than reptiles' food. Where once my wit, perchance, hath shone,
In aid of others' let me shine;
WELL! THOU ART HAPPY. (2)
That I should thus be happy too;
Warmly, as it was wont to do.
Some pangs to view his happier lot:
Would hate him, if he loved thee not!
I thought my jealous heart would break;
I kiss'd it for its mother's sake.
Its father in its face to see;
And they were all to love and me.
While thou art blest I 'll not repine;
My heart would soon again be thine.
Had quench'd at length my boyish flame;
My heart in all, -save hope, -the same. Yet was I calm: I knew the time
My breast would thrill before thy look ;
We met, and not a nerve was shook.
Yet meet with no confusion there:
The sullen calmness of despair.
(1) Lord Byron gives the following account of this cup: | and placed on light stands round the room. He also esta-“The gardener, in digging, discovered a skull that had blished, at Newstead Abbey, a new order. “The members," probably belonged to some jolly friar or monk of the abbey, says he, “consisted of twelve, and I elected myself Grand about the time it was demonasteried. Observing it to be Master, or Abbot of the Skull: a grand heraldic title. A of giant size, and in a perfect state of preservation, a set of black gowns, mine distinguished from the rest, was strange fancy seized me of having it set and mounted as a ordered, and, from time to time, when a particularly hard drinking-cap. I accordingly sent it to town, and it returned day was expected, a chapter was beld, the crane was filled with a very high polish, and of a mottled colour like tor with claret, and, in imitation of the Goths of old, passed toiseshell." It is now in the possession of Colonel Wildman, about to the Gods of the Consistory, wbilst many a grim joke the proprietor of Newstead Abbey. In several of our elder was cut at its expense.” Medwin.-P. E. dramatists, mention is made of the custom of quaffing wine (2) These lines were printed originally in Mr. Hobhouse's out of similar cops. For example, in Dekker's Wonder of a Miscellany. A few days before they were written, the Kingdom, Torrenti says:
poet had been invited to dine at Annesley. On the infant * Would I had ten thousand soldiers' heads,
daughter of his fair hostess being brought into the room, Their skulls set all in silver; to drink healths
he started involuntarily, and with the utmost difficulty supTo his confusion who first invented war."-LE.
pressed his emotion. To the sensations of that moment we
are indebted for these beautiful stanzas-and for several of Byron appears to have had a singular predilection the following pieces.-L.E. for skulls. Moore, in his Life, states that among the orna (3) The contrary, however, appears to have been the ments of his study were a number of skulls, highly polished. I fact. The lady's marriage was an unhappy one.-P. E.
Away! away! my early dream
Remembrance never must awake: Oh! where is Lethe's fabled stream? My foolish heart! be still, or break.
November 2, 1808. (1)
By nature vile, ennobled but by name,
INSCRIPTION ON THE MONUMENT OF A
NEWFOUNDLAND DOG.(2) When some proud son of man returns to earth, Unknown to glory, but upheld by birth, The sculptor's art exhausts the pomp of woe, And storied urns record who rests below; When all is done, upon the tomb is seen, Not what he was, but what he should have been : But the poor dog, in life the firmest friend, The first to welcome, foremost to defend, Whose honest heart is still his master's own, Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone, Unhonour'd falls, unnoticed all his worth, Denied in heaven the soul he held on earth : While man, vain insect! hopes to be forgiven, And claims himself a sole exclusive heaven. O man! thou feeble tenant of an hour, Debased by slavery, or corrupt hy power, Who knows thee well must quit thee with disgust, Degraded mass of animated dust! Thy love is lust, thy friendship all a cheat, Thy smiles hypocrisy, thy words deceit!
TO A LADY,
ENGLAND IN TBE SPRING.
A moment linger'd near the gate,
And bade him curse his future fate.
He learn’d to bear his load of grief;
And found in busier scenes relief.
And I must view thy charms no more;
I sigh for all I knew before.
Escaping from temptation's snare;
December 2, ISHI
(1) Lord Byron wrote to his mother on this same 2d No. vember, announcing his intention of sailing for India in March 1809.-L. E.
(2) This monument is still a conspicuons ornament in the garden of Newstead. The following is the inscription by which the verses are preceded :
« Near this spot
Strength without Insolence,
Courage without Ferocity,
If inscribed over human ashes,
BOATSWAIN, a Dog,
Lord Byron thus announced the death of his favourite to Mr. Hodgson :-"Boatswain is dead !-he expired in a state of madness, on the 18th, after suffering much, yet re. taining all the gentleness of his nature to the last ; never attempting to do the least injury to any one near him. I have now lost every thing except old Murray,” By the will, which he executed in 1811, be directed that his own body should be buried in a vault in the garden, near his faithful dog.-LE.
“Of this favourite," says Moore, “some traits are told indicative not only of intelligence, but of a generosity of spirit, which might well win for him the affections of such a master as Byron." It seems that a deadly feud having long existed between Boatswain and a fox terrier called Gilpin, belonging to Mrs. Byron, that lady prudently sent her favourite out of the way of his more powerful antagonist. One morning the servant, to whose guardian. ship Boatswain was confided, was much alarmed by the disappearance of his charge, and throughout the whole of the day no tidings could be heard of him. “At last, to. wards evening, the stray dog arrived, accompanied by Gilpin, whom he led immediately to the kitchen fire, licking him, and lavishing upon him every possible demonstration of joy. The fact was, he had been all the way to New. stead to fetch him, and having now established his former foe under the roof once more, agreed so perfectly well with him ever after, that he even protected him against the in sults of other dogs,-a task which the quarrelsomeness of the little terrier rendered no sinecare."
It is worthy of remark that the poet Pope, when aberg the same age as Lord Byron, passed a similar ealogy be dog, at the expense of human nature, adding that is tories are more full of examples of the fidelity of dage the of friends." He had also at one time, as appears from a anecdote preserved by Spence, some thoughts of being to dog in his garden, and placing a monument ovet, the inscription, “O rare Bounce."
In speaking of the members of Rousseau's danrskotablishment, Hume says: “She (Thérèse) governs in ' absolutely as a nurse does a child. In ber absenre, lis dog has acquired that ascendant, His affection for that cretture is beyond all expression of conception." Pricate Cora gpondence.
In Burns's elegy on the death of his favourite Mailie, find the friendship even of a sheep set on a level with tog of man: “Wi' kindly blent, when sbe did spy him,
She ran wi' speed:
Than Mailie dead." In speaking of the favourite dogs of great poets, we not forget Cowper's little spaniel “ Beau, nor will po' terity fail to add to the list the name of Sir Walter Scott " Maida.” See Moore's Life of Buron. P.E.
(3) In Mr. Hobhouse's Miscellany, in which the epitap was first published, the last line ran thus:
"I knew but one unchanged—and here be lies." The reader will not fail to observe, that this inscripsins was written at a time when the poet's early feelings with respect to the lady of Annesley had been painfully revived - L. E.
(4) In the first copy, "Thus, Mary! -(Mrs. Masters!! The reader will find a portrait of this lady in Finder Nlustrations of Lord Byron's Works, No. iii.LE
(5) In Mr. Hobhouse's volume, the line stood,-"With a wish to enter there. The following is an extract from an unpublished letter of Lord Byron, written in 1883, * three days previous to his leaving Italy for Greece Chaworth was two years older than myself. She be a man of an ancient and respectable family, but here riage was not a happier one than my own. Her sale! however, was irreproachable; but there was not sponsor between their characters. I had not seen ber fur ! years, when an occasion offered. I was upon the po with her consent, of paying ber a visit ; when by sister,
To think of every early scene,
I've tried another's fetters too,
Now our boatmen quit their mooring,
And all hands must ply the oar;
We're impatient-push from shore.
Stop the boat-I'm sick-oh Lord!" "Sick, ma'am, damme, you'll be sicker Ere you've been an hour on board."
Thus are screaming
Men and women,
All are wrangling,
Gallant Kidd, (2) commands the crew;
Some to grumble, some to spew.
Why 'tis hardly three feet square;
“Who, sir? plenty
“Did they? Jesus,
How you squeeze us!
LINES TO MR. HODGSON.
Our embargo's off at last;
Bend the canvass o'er the mast.
Hark! the farewell gun is fired;
Here's a rascal
Come to task all,
Fletcher! Murray! Bob!(3) where are you?
Stretch'd along the deck like logs--
Here's a rope's-end for the dogs.
As the hatchway down he rolls,
“Here's a stanza
Of warm water”
" What's the matter?"
(1) Thus corrected by himself, in his mother's copy of the Indian seas. Of the supernatural character of this apMr. Hobhouse's Miscellany; the two last lines being ori- | pearance, Captain Kidd himself did not appear to bave the ginally
slightest doubt.”--P. E.
(3) Lord Byron's three servants.-L.E.
Of the veteran Joe Murray's attachment to his master, Moore, in his Life, mentions a strange story which Moore in his Life makes frequent and honourable mention. this officer related to Lord Byron on the passage. He stated The following anecdote is characteristic :“ In 1810, there that "being asleep one night in his berth, he was awakened
bad been an execution on Newstead for a debt of 1500L. by the pressure of something heavy on his limbs, and there
To the faithful old servant, jealous of the ancient honour being a faint light in the room, could see, as he thought, of the Byrons, the sight of the notice of sale, pasted up distinctly, the figure of his brother, who was at that time on the Abbey door, could not be otherwise than an unin the naval service in the East Indies, dressed in his uni. sightly and intolerable nuisance. Having enough, however, form and stretched across the bed. Concluding it to be an of the fear of the law before his eyes, not to tear the writillusion of the senses, he shut his eyes and made an effort ing down, he was at last forced, as his only consolatory to sleep. But still the same pressure continued, and still, expedient, to paste a large piece of brown paper over it." as often as he ventured to take another look, he saw the -In proof of the kindly feeling which Lord Byron ever Ggure lying across in the same position. To add to the entertained towards “Ola Joe Murray,” Moore also states wonder, on putting his band forth to touch this form, he that a constant visiter at Newstead has often "seen Lord found the uniform, in which it appeared to be dressed, Byron, at the dinner-table, fill out a tumbler of madeira dripping wet. On the entrance of one of his brother officers, and hand it over his shoulder to Joe Murray, who stood to whom he called out in alarm, the apparition vanished; / behind his chair, saying, with a cordiality that brightened but in a few months after he received the startling intelli his whole countenance, Here, my old fellow.'1-P. E. gence that, on that night, his brother had been drowned in
I shall not survive the racket
Lord knows when we shall come back!
May unship us in a crack.
As philosophers allow,
Laugh at all things,
Great and small things,
While we're quaffing,
Let's have laughing -
Falmouth Roads, June 30, 1809.
A few, brief, rolling seasons o'er,
Perchance I view her cliffs again ;
Through scorching clime, and varied sea,
I ne'er shall bend mine eyes on thee:
All charms which heedless hearts can move,
And, oh! forgive the word—to love.
With such a word can more offend;
Believe me, what I am, thy friend.
Thou lovely wanderer, and be less?
The friend of Beauty in distress?
Through Danger's most destructive path,
And 'scaped a tyrant's fiercer wrath?
Where free Byzantium once arose,
The Turkish tyrants now enclose;
That glorious city still shall be;
As spot of thy nativity:
When I behold that wondrous scene,
LINES WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM, AT MALTA.
As o'er the cold sepulchral stone
Some name arrests the passer-by;
May mine attract thy pensive eye!
Perchance in some succeeding year,
September 14, 1809.
TO FLORENCE. (2) Ou Lady! when I left the shore,
The distant shore which gave me birth, I hardly thought to grieve once more,
To quit another spot on earth: Yet here, amidst this barren isle,
Where panting Nature droops the head, Where only thou art seen to smile,
I view my parting hour with dread. Though far from Albin's craggy shore,
Divided by the dark-blue main ;
Where Pindus' mountains rise,
The vengeance of the skies.
(1) In the letter in which these lively verses were enclosed, I rival bere I have had scarcely any other companion. I bat? Lord Byron says:"I leave England without regret--I shall found her very pretty, very accomplished, and extreme return to it without pleasure. I am like Adam, the first eccentric. Bonaparte is even now so incensed against bei convict sentenced to transportation; but I have no Eve, that her life would be in danger if she were taken priseda and have eaten no apple but what was sour as a crab; and
at was sour as a crab; and a second time."-L. B. thus ends my first chapter."--L. E.
(3) This thunder-storm occurred during the night of the (2) These lines were written at Malta. The lady to whom I1th October 1809, when Lord Byron's guides had lost the they were addressed, and whom he afterwards apostrophises road to Zitza, near the range of mountains formerly cause in the stanzas on the thunder-storm of Zitza, and in Childe Pindus, in Albania. Mr. Hobhouse, who had rode on keluar Harold, is thus mentioned in a letter to his mother:-" This the rest of party, and arrived at Zitza just as the evenit letter is committed to the charge of a very extraordinary set in, describes the thunder as “roaring without interne lady, whom you have doubtless heard of, Mrs. Spencer Smith, sion, the echoes of one peal not ceasing to roll in a of whose escape the Marquis de Salvo published a narrative mountains, before another tremendous crash hurst over our a few years ago. She has since been shipwrecked ; and her heads; whilst the plains and the distant hills appeared a 4 life has been from its commencement so fertile in remark. perpetual blaze.” “The tempest," he says, was altogether able incidents, that in a romance they would appear im. terrific, and worthy of the Grecian Jove. My friesd, probable. She was born at Constantinople, where her father, the priest and the servants, did not enter our hut till three Baron Herbert, was Austrian ambassador; married unbap in the morning. I now learnt from him that they had kus! pily, yet has never been impeached in point of character; their way, and that, after wandering up and dowa ia excited the vengeance of Bonaparte, by taking a part in ignorance of their position, they had stopped at last some conspiracy; several times risked her life; and is not some Turkish tomb-stones and a torrent, which they yet five-and-twenty. She is here on her way to England to the flasbes of lightning. They had been thus cepases join her husband, being obliged to leave Trieste, where she nine hours. It was long before we ceased to talle was paying a visit to her mother, by the approach of the thunder-storm in the plain of Zitza."-L.E. French, and embarks soon in a ship of war. Since my ar.