Oldalképek
PDF
ePub
[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

зат

am

are

mine

and

nor

angre

me

[ocr errors]

unjust will favour

tiroment to which I atted cover it wasd he have

མ་

this dedication was addressed. This lady was a (2) This Preface was omitted in the second edition.-L. E.

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][graphic]

THE

COMPLETE WORKS

OF

LORD BYRON.

Hours of Edleness.

A SERIES OF POEMS, ORIGINAL AND TRANSLATED.

(FIRST PUBLISHED IN 1807.)

Virginibus puerisque canto.

HORACE, lib. iii. Ode 1.

Μήτ' άρ με μαλ' αίνει μήτε τι νείκεια

HOMER, ILIAD, X. 249.

He whistled as he went, for want of thought.

DRYDEN,

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE FREDERICK, EARL Of Carlisle,

KNIGHT OF THE GARTER, ETC. ETC.

The Second Edition of these Poems is Inscribed,
BY HIS OBLIGED WARD, AND AFFECTIONATE KINSMAN,(1)

THE AUTHOR.

PREFACE

TO THE FIRST EDITION. (2)

In submitting to the public eye the following collection, I have not only to combat the difficulties that writers of verse generally encounter, but may incur the charge of presumption for obtruding myself on the world, when, without doubt, I might be, at my age, more usefully employed.

fate of these effusions, my expectations are by no means sanguine. It is probable that I may have dared much, and done little; for, in the words of Cowper, "it is one thing to write what may please our friends, who, because they are such, are apt to be a little biassed in our favour, and another to write what may please every body; because they who have no connection or even knowledge of the author will be sure to find fault if they can." To the truth of this, however, I do not These productions are the fruits of the lighter hours wholly subscribe: on the contrary, I feel convinced of a young man who has lately completed his nine- that these trifles will not be treated with injustice. teenth year. As they bear the internal evidence of a Their merit, if they possess any, will be liberally alboyish mind, this is, perhaps, unnecessary information. lowed: their numerous faults, on the other hand, cannot Some few were written during the disadvantages of expect that favour which has been denied to others, of illness and depression of spirits: under the former in-maturer years, decided character, and far greater ability. fluence, CHILDISH RECOLLECTIONS," in particular, were composed. This consideration, though it cannot excite the voice of praise, may at least arrest the arm of censure. A considerable portion of these poems has been privately printed, at the request and for the perusal of my friends. I am sensible that the partial and frequently injudicious admiration of a social circle is not the criterion by which poetical genius is to be estimated, yet, "to do greatly," we must "dare greatly; and I have hazarded my reputation and feelings in publishing this volume. "I have passed the Rubicon," and must stand or fall by the "cast of the die." In the latter event, I shall submit without a murmur; for, though not without solicitude for the

[ocr errors]

(Isabel, daughter of William, fourth Lord Byron (greatgreat-uncle of the Poet), became, in 1743, the wife of Henry, fourth Earl of Carlisle, and was the mother of the fifth Earl, to whom this dedication was addressed. This lady was a

I have not aimed at exclusive originality, still less have I studied any particular model for imitation: some translations are given, of which many are paraphrastic. In the original pieces, there may appear a casual coincidence with authors whose works I have been accustomed to read: but I have not been guilty of intentional plagiarism. To produce any thing entirely new, in an age so fertile in rhyme, would be an Herculean task, as every subject has already been

treated to its utmost extent. Poetry, however, is not my primary vocation; to divert the dull moments of indisposition, or the monotony of a vacant hour, urged

me "to this sin;" little can be expected from so unpromising a muse. My wreath, scanty as it must be,

poetess in her way. The Fairy's Answer to Mrs. Greville's Prayer of Indifference, in Pearch's Collection, is usually ascribed to her.-L. E.

(2) This Preface was omitted in the second edition.-L. E.

is all I shall derive from these productions; and I shall never attempt to replace its fading leaves, or pluck a single additional sprig from groves where I am, at best, an intruder. Though accustomed in my younger days to rove, a careless mountaineer, on the Highlands of Scotland, I have not, of late years, had the benefit of such pure air, or so elevated a residence, as might enable me to enter the lists with genuine bards, who have enjoyed both these advantages. But they derive considerable fame, and a few not less profit, from their productions; while I shall expiate my rashness as an interloper, certainly without the latter, and in all probability with a very slight share of the former. I leave to others "virûm volitare per ora." I look to the few who will hear with patience "dulce est desipere in loco." To the former worthies I resign, without repining, the hope of immortality, and content myself with the not very magnificent prospect of ranking amongst "the mob of gentlemen who write"-my readers must determine whether I dare say "with ease,"—or the honour of a posthumous page in The Catalogue of Royal and Noble Authors, a work to which the Peerage is under infinite obligations, inasmuch as many names of considerable length, sound, and antiquity, are thereby rescued from the obscurity which unluckily overshadows several voluminous productions of their illustrious bearers.

With slight hopes, and some fears, I publish this first and last attempt. To the dictates of young ambition may be ascribed many actions more criminal and equally absurd. To a few of my own age the contents may afford amusement: I trust they will, at least, be found harmless. It is highly improbable, from my situation and pursuits hereafter, that I should ever obtrude myself a second time on the public; nor even, in the very doubtful event of present indulgence, shall I be tempted to commit a future trespass of the same nature. The opinion of Dr. Johnson on the Poems of a noble relation of mine, (1) "That when a man of rank appeared in the character of an author, he deserved to have his merit handsomely allowed," (2) can have little weight with verbal and still less with periodical censors; but, were it otherwise, I should be loth to avail myself of the privilege, and would rather incur the bitterest censure of anonymous criticism, than triumph in honours granted solely to a title.

(1) The Earl of Carlisle, whose works have long received the meed of public applause, to which, by their intrinsic worth, they were well entitled.

(2) The passage referred to by Lord Byron occurs in Boswell's Life of Johnson, vol. iv. p. 486. (Croker's edition, 1831.) Dr. Johnson's letter to Mrs. Chapone, criticising, on the whole favourably, the Earl's tragedy of The Father's Revenge, is inserted in the same work, vol. v. p. 136.-L. E. (3) The author claims the indulgence of the reader more for this piece than, perhaps, any other in the collection; but as it was written at an earlier period than the rest (being composed at the age of fourteen), and his first essay, he preferred submitting it to the indulgence of his friends in its present state, to making either addition or alteration.

(4) "My first dash into poetry was as early as 1800. It was the ebullition of a passion for my first cousin, Margaret Parker (daughter and grand-daughter of the two Admirals Parker), one of the most beautiful of evanescent beings. I have long forgotten the verse; but it would be difficult for me to forget her-her dark eyes-her long eye-lashes-her completely Greek cast of face and figure! I was then about twelve-she rather older, perhaps a year. She died about a year or two afterwards, in consequence of a fall, which injured her spine, and induced consumption. Her sister, Augusta (by some thought still more beautiful), died of the

HOURS OF IDLENESS.

ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG LADY, COUSIN TO THE AUTHOR, and VERY DEAR TO HIM. (3) HUSH'D are the winds, and still the evening gloom, Not e'en a zephyr wanders through the grove, Whilst I return, to view my Margaret's tomb, And scatter flowers on the dust I love. Within this narrow cell reclines her clay,

That clay, where once such animation beam'd; The King of Terrors seized her as his prey, Nor worth, nor beauty, have her life redeem'd. Oh! could that King of Terrors pity feel,

Or Heaven reverse the dread decrees of fate! Not here the mourner would his grief reveal, Not here the muse her virtues would relate. But wherefore weep? Her matchless spirit soars Beyond where splendid shines the orb of day And weeping angels lead her to those bowers Where endless pleasures virtue's deeds repay. And shall presumptuous mortals Heaven arraign, And, madly, godlike Providence accuse? Ah! no, far fly from me attempts so vain ;I'll ne'er submission to my God refuse. Yet is remembrance of those virtues dear,

Yet fresh the memory of that beauteous face; Still they call forth my warm affection's tear, Still in my heart retain their wonted place. 1802. (4)

[blocks in formation]

LET Folly smile, to view the names
Of thee and me in friendship twined;
Yet Virtue will have greater claims
To love, than rank with vice combined.
And though unequal is thy fate,

Since title deck'd my higher birth!
Yet envy not this gaudy state;

Thine is the pride of modest worth.

same malady; and it was, indeed, in attending her, that Margaret met with the accident which occasioned her death. My sister told me, that when she went to see her, shortly before her death, upon accidentally mentioning my name, Margaret coloured, throughout the paleness of mortality, to the eyes, to the great astonishment of my sister, who knew nothing of our attachment, nor could conceive why my name should affect her at such a time. I knew nothing of her illness-being at Harrow and in the country-till she was gone. Some years after, I made an attempt at an elegya very dull one. I do not recollect scarcely any thing equal to the transparent beauty of my cousin, or to the sweetness of her temper, during the short period of our intimacy. She looked as if she had been made out of a rainbow-all beauty and peace."- Byron's Diary, 1821.-L. E.

In this practice of dating his juvenile poems, Byron followed the example of Milton, who (says Johnson), "by affixing the dates to his first compositions, a boast of which the learned Politian had given him an example, seems to commend the earliness of his own compositions to the notice of posterity." -Moore.-P. E.

(5) This little poem, and some others in the collection, refer to a boy of Lord Byron's own age, son of one of his tenants at Newstead, for whom he had formed a romantic attachment, of earlier date than any of his school friendships.-L. E.

« ElőzőTovább »