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Dongque jug of luomib su gim fi bas,a'gnitewnis M sloga Ji diw "Mr. Mainwaring, you'll not repent that, nor nisl That brought a dead friend back for an hour; Passing away like morning dreams, love,w ni ti the other, I hope, I would get up and thank 8M 10 H Passing away like summer streams, love, gniew you, but the pain holds me down, Arden Mainwaring went up eid tud Awaypaway, like a frail autumn flower.volos to him and took his hand. I left them speaking together in Town tones, but before I took my place beside Mr. Mainwaring in the gig, I re-entered the drawingof room to wish Grant good night. I was naturally anxious about that troublesome pain. Grant, I would not leave you need only it's the last night she'll be there. Bagraiby do. Go to her, Mrs. Gainsborough; I shall đó. She forgives me. He says so, bad-basoat

The onzelschants, when spring is new, love, bisa The rivers ripple and sing as they run art The swallows come when, skies are blue, love, 510998 To bark in the light, of the summer sunstil I 9981 tot 3dizygieW M ach ray of light, love, That falls from sun, or star, or mormon bask

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S esv sda bns atп9891q 9mоabned9q1ohen the first soat and sweete lib ni swaded by Where the sulf shines brightest, & 10 10 m aid no besaiani absint aid of barrels where the zephyr breathes lightest oy aigbol Ted DAWNING LIGHT & drwy esw Where the butterflies play sa ton llafe I Juicq test od no lleym 19d beпotesup 1 bas Where the honey bees stray, "Jasanof levo o bib sa odmorhere I bask'd the summer long day,y19" "yenom driv ybal sdsd 3089mg And every morning fresh and neww vort Jadw He went, and night came as it never came, I drank full draughts of the choicest dew, r Its purple gloom and stars seemed not the sanie.si ba9b And the summer roll'd on full gayad 201 And when the morning mocked the desolate, aida en Butothe sun shone bright, agusd. Its ling ring chime sounded like voice of Fate." gundo boisy to moia895512 'Twas autumn then, it is the spring-time nowo Tender green leaves are on the hawthorn bough Were he here we should wander in the woods, To search for violets, and watch the buds.

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I heave regretful sighs at early dawn,
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LETTERS, &c., OF LORD BYRON.

Ravenna, Jan. 2, 1820. What does she say now, when, if I can believe the papers, the very members of Government are transferring property even to the French funds? . . . ..since, if the funds were to go, you do not suppose that I would sit down quietly under it. No; in that case I will make one amongst them, if we are to come to buffeting, and perhaps not the mildest. I would wish to finish my days in quiet; but, should the time arrive when it becomes the necessity of every man to act, however reluctantly, upon the circumstances of the country, I won't be roused up for nothing; and if I do take a part it will be such a one as my opinion of mankind-a temper not softened by what it has seen and undergone, a mind grown indifferent to pursuits and results, but capable of efforts and strength under oppression or stimulus, but without ambition, because it looks upon all human attempts as conducting to no rational or practical advantage-would induce me to adopt. And perhaps such a man, forced to act from necessity, would, with the temper I have described, be about as dangerous an animal as ever joined in ravage. There is nothing I should dread more than to trust to my own temper, or to have to act in such scenes as I think must soon ensue in England. It is this made me think of South America, or the Cape, or Turkey, or anywhere so that I can but preserve my independence of means to live withal. But if, in this coming crash, my fortunes are to be swept down with the rest, why, then, the only barrier which holds me aloof from taking a part in these miserable contests being broken down, I shall fight my battle too, with what success I know not, but with what moderation I know but too well.

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other day in a curricle. If he had said a canoe it would have been much more likely. And you-what have your five years done? in short, we are five years older in fact, and I at least ten in appearance. . . . So, for Murray is gathered to his masters as you say, the very ghosts have died with him. Newstead and he went almost together, and now the B's must earn them out another inheritance. If I had had a son I should never have parted with it . . . These, concurring with other circumstances, rendered the disposal of the Abbey necessary, and not improper. . . . . I can say little to you of Italy, except that it is in avery distracted state. In England The has been bountiful to scandal-mongers. You see what those sort of fellows are (counsellors), and how they prey on a cause of this kind, like crows on carrion. I have got a flourishing family (besides A.). Here are two cats, six dogs, a badger, a falcon, a tame crow, and a monkey. The fox died, and a civit cat ran away. With the exception of an occasional civil war about provisions they agree to admiration, and do not make much more noise than a well-behaved nursery. I have also eight horses, four carriages, and go prancing about daily, at present up to the middle in mire, for here have been the autumnal rains, and drenched everything-amongst other things myself yesterday. I got soaked through cloak and all, and the horse through his skin, I believe..

Ravena, Nov. 9, 1820, You will, I hope, have received a long letter from me, not long ago. has just written that Waite is dead. Poor fellow! he and Blake both deceased. What is to become of our hair and teeth? The hair is less to be minded: anybody can cut hair, though not so well; but If you but knew how I despise and abhor all the mouth is a still more serious concern. Has these men, and all these things, you would ea- he no successor? pray tell the next best, for sily suppose how reluctantly I contemplate being what am I to do for brushes and powder? And called upon to act with or against any of the then the children-what will become of their parties. All I desire is to preserve what re-jaws? Such men ought to be immortal, and mains of the fortunes of our house, and then they may do as they please. The other day I wrote to you from here, Address to Venice as usual.

Ravenna, Oct. 18, 1820. Sir Walter Scott says, in the beginning of "The Abbot," that "every five years we find ourselves another and yet the same, with a change of views, and no less of light, in which we regard them, a change of motives as well as of actions." This, I presume, applies still more to those who have passed their five years in foreign countries. For my part I suppose I am two others, for it seems some fool has been betting that he saw me in London the

not your stupid heroes, orators, and poe ts.Besides, I liked him with all his coxcombry. Let me know what we are all to do, and to whom we can have recourse for our cleaning, scaling, and powder. How is 's rabbit-warren of a family? I gave you an account of mine in my last letter. The child is well, but the

....

favourite dentist. He was a great dandy, and had * Waite, as will be perceived, was Lord Byron's the happiest opinion of his own personal attractions. He particularly piqued himself on inflicting little or no pain on his patients, and occasionally dismissed per sons, who came to have large teeth drawn, with the remark, "I am not a butcher !'

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My date will inform you that I am an hundred miles or better nearer to you than I was. Address to Genoa, where we all are for the present, i.e., the family of Count Gamba, who left Romagna in 1821 with us on account of the political troubles, together with myself, &c., &c.

I was for four days confined to my bed in the worst inn's worst room at Servia, on my way here. No physician except a young Italian in no practice. both sides have hitherto proceeded as they did in the feudal times, when people used to shake hands, with iron gauntlets on, through a hole in a door, after being searched for concealed arms by way of ascertaining the sincerity of their politeness.

Alboni, Genoa, Nov. 7th, 1822. I have yours of the 25th. My illness is quite gone; it was only at Servia. On the fourth night I had got little sleep, and was so wearied, that, though there were three slight shocks of an earthquake that frightened the whole town into the street, neither they nor the tumult awakened me. We have had a deluge here, which has carried away half the country between this and Genoa (about two miles or less distant); but, being on a hill, we were only nearly knocked down by the lightning, and battered by columns of rain, and our lower floor afloat, with the comfortable view of the whole landscape under water, and people screaming out of their garret windows: two bridges swept down, and our next-door neighbours, a cobler, a wig-maker, and a gingerbread baker, delivering their whole stock to the elements, which marched away with a quantity of shoes, several perukes, and ginger-bread in all its branches. The whole came on so suddenly that there was no time to prepare. Think, only, at the top of a hill, of the road being an impassable cascade, and a child being drowned a few yards from its own door (as we heard say), in a place where water is, in general, a rare commodity. Well, after all this, comes a preaching-friar, and says, that the day of judgment will take place positively on the fourth, with all kinds of tempest and what not, in consequence of which, the whole city (except some impious scoffers) sent him presents to arrest the wrath of heaven by his prayers; and even the public authorities have warned the captains of ships, who, to mend the matter, almost all bought new cables and anchors by way of weathering the gale: but the fourth turned out a very fine day. All those who had paid their money are excessively angry, and insist upon either having the day of judgment or their cash again; but the friar's device seems to be "no money to be returned," and be says he merely made a mistake in the time, for the day of judgment

will certainly come for all that, either here or in some other part of Italy. This has a little pacified the expectants. You will think this is a fiction; inquire further, then. The populace actually used to go and kiss the fellow's feet in the streets. His sermon, however, had small effect upon some, for they gave a ball on the third, and a tradesman brought me an overcharge on the same day, upon which, I threatened him with the friar, but he said that that was a reason for being paid on the third, as he had a sum to make up for his last accounts. There seem to have been ail kinds of tempests all over the globe, and, for my part, it would not surprise me if the earth should get a little tired of the tyrants and slaves who disturb her surface. I have also had a love-letter from Pimlico, from a lady whom I never saw in my life, for having written "Don Juan"! I suppose that she is either mad........ Do you remember Constantia and Echo and la Swissesse and all my other inamorati? when I was "gentle and juvenile, curly and gay," and was myself in love with a certain silly person...... But I have grown very good now, and think all such things vanities-which is a very proper opinion at thirty-four. I always say four till the five is out. Since I last wrote I had written the enclosed letter, which I did not send, thinking it useless. You will please to recollect that you would not be required to know any Italian acquaintances of mine. The Countess of G has a distant quarter of the city, and generally lives with her father and brother, who were exiled on account of politics, and she obliged to go with them, or be shut up in a convent. We are all in the same house just now, only because our ambassador recommended it It is safer for them in these suspicious times. As to our liaison, you know that all foreign ladies and most English have an amitié of the same kind, or not so good, perhaps, as ours has lasted nearly four years.

Genoa, Dec. 22nd, 1822.

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My real instructions are in a letter to Murray of last summer, and the simples, possible, as well as the inscription. But it has been my lot through life to be never pardoned and almost always misunderstood; however, I will go on and fight it out at least till I survive (if it should be so) the few who would be sorry that they had outlived me. The story of this child's burial is the epitome or miniature of the story of my life. My regard for her and my attachment for the spot where she is buried (Harrow) made me wish that she should be buried where, though I never was happy, I was once less miserable as a boy, in thinking I should be buried; and you see how they have distorted this, as they do everything, into some story about I have not read the book you mention, nor indeed heard of it. I am glad that you like "Werner." The story of the "German's Tale" from which I took it had a strange effect upon me when I read it as a boy, and it has haunted me ever since, from some singular conformity between it and my ideas

Salamis, and am waiting for instructions where to proceed; for things are in such a state amongst them, that it is difficult to conjecture where one could be useful to them, if at all. However, I have some hopes they will see their own interests sufficiently not to quarrel till they have rescued their national independence, and then they may fight it out amongst them in do

You will have time to think of the project by spring, and can then decide as you please. You must not believe the nonsense about the Hunts residing with me: I do not see them three times in a month, and they reside at some distance, and if you came to Nice, and I went there, they would be probably in Tuscany: at any rate, not near me. The political circumstances of Count Gamba's family I already ex-mestic manner. You may suppose I have someplained to you, and that it is by the English minister's desire that they are near me, as a protection to them for the present. You would see nothing of them. I must tell you an anecdote of her, the sister and daughter of the Count G- When Allegra died, as she (the Countess G- -) had left everything, and was persecuted by her husband before the Pope, I wished to bequeath to her the same sum (£5,000) I had left in toy will to Allegra; but she refused, in the most positive terms, not only, as she said, as a degradation to her, but injustice to my daughter and to your children.

thing to think of at least, for you can have no idea what an intriguing, cunning, unquiet gene. ration they are; and as emissaries of all parties come to me at present, and I must act impartially, it makes me exclaim as Julian did at his military exercises: "Oh! Plato, what a taste for a philosopher!" However, you won't think much of my philosophy: nor do I, entre nous.

I am at present in a very pretty village (Metoxata, in Cephalonia), between two monasteries and the sea, with a view of Zante and the Morea, waiting for some more decisive intelligence from the provisional government in Salamis . . . . but here come some visitors'. . . . I Genoa, Feb., 1823. was interrupted yesterday by Col. Napier and the You cannot conceive how such things harass Captain of a King's ship, now in the harbour. me, and provoke me into expressions which Col. N. is resident or governor here, and has I momentarily feel Your informant been extremely kind and hospitable, as indeed was, as usual, in error. Do not believe all the have been all the English here. When their lies you may hear. can tell you I have visit was over a Greek arrived on business not lost my teeth hitherto, since I was twelve about this eternal siege of Missolonghi (on the years old, and had a back one taken out by G. coast of Acamania or Etolia) and some convoys Dumergue to make room for others growing; of provisions, which we want to throw in; and, and so far from being fatter, at present I am after this was discussed, I got on horseback. much thinner than when I left England, when II brought my horses with me on board (and was not very stout: the latter you will regret; the former you will be glad to hear. can tell you all particulars, though I am much reduced since he saw me, and more than you would like. Perhaps we may meet in the spring, either here or in England. I write to you these few lines in haste. says you're coming out the best thing which you could do, for yourself and me too.

Cephalonia, Oct. 12th, 1823. You ask why I come up amongst the Greeks. It was stated to me that my so doing might tend to their advantage, in some measure, in their present struggle for independance, both as an individual and as a member of the committee now in England. How far this may be realized I cannot pretend to anticipate ; but I am wishing to do what I can. They have at length found leisure to quarrel among themselves, after repelling their other enemies; and it is no very easy part I may have to play to avoid appearing partial to one or other of their factions. They have turned out Mavrocudoti, who was the only Washington or Koscuisko kind of man amongst them, and they have not yet sent their deputies to London to treat about a loan, nor in short done themselves so much good as they might have done. I have written to Mr. three several times, with a budget of documents on the subject, from which he can extract all the urgent information for the committee at Tussolizza and

.....

troublesome neighbours they are in blowing
weather) and rode to Argorstoli and back, and
then I had one of my thunder headaches (you
know how my head acts like a barometer when
there is electricity in the air) and I could not
resume till this morning. Since my arrival in
August I made a tour to Ithaca (which you will
take to be Ireland, but if you look into Pope's
Odyssey you will discover it to be the ancient
name of the Isle of Wight) and over some parts
of Cephalonia
There is a clever but
eccentric man here, a Dr., who is very
pious, and this in good earnest to make con-
verts; but his Christianity is a green one, for
he says the priesthood of the Church of Eng-
land are no more Christians than Mahommed
or Termagount are. He has made some con-
verts. I suspect rather to the beauty of his
wife (who is pretty as well as pious) than of his
theology. I like what I have seen of him; of
her I know nothing, nor desire to know, having
other things to think about. He says that the
dozen shocks of an earthquake we had the
other day are a judgment on his audience; but
this opinion has not acquired proselytes. One
of the shocks was so prolonged that, though
not very heavy, we thought the house would
come down; and as we have a staircase to dis-
mount out of the house (the buildings here are
different from ours) it was judged expedient by
the inmates (all men, please to recollect, as if
there had been females we must have helped
them, or broken our bones for company) to

make an expeditious retreat into the court-yard. | her life, but there is no saying what might Who was first out of the door I know not; but arrive in the course of the war (and of such a when I got to the bottom of the stairs, I found war) and I shall probably commit her to the could only some in be

have happened by their jumping out of the

decided character

the present. The child herself has the same for her age a long id

window, or down over the stairs (which had no wish, and seems to wish her to be

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balustrade or bannisters) rather than in the regular way of descent. The scene was ludicrous enough; but we had several more slight shocks in the night, but stuck quietly to our beds, for it would have been of no use moving, as the house would have been down first, had it been to come down at all. There was no great damage done in the island, except an old house or two cracking in the middle; but the soldiers on parade were lifted up as a boat is by the tide, and you would have seen the whole line waving (though no one was in motion) by the heaving of the ground on which they were drawn up. You can't complain of this being a brief letter ... at his present age, I have no idea that I had many feelings or no tions which people would not believe if I stated them now, and therefore I may as well keep them to myself. Is he social or solitary tací turn or talkative? fond of reading or otherwise? ..... I hope that the gods have made him anything save poetical. It is enough to have one such fool in a family 93 moj idynnloser to exce vnos sno Missolonghi, Jan. 23rd, 1824. I received a few days ago your letters, for which I ought to be and am sufficiently thankful, as they were of great comfort; | and I wanted some, having been recently unwell, but am now much better, so you need not be alarmed..... You will have heard of our journeys and escapes, and so forth, perhaps with some exaggeration; but it is all very well now; and I have been some time in Greece, which is in as good a state as could be expected, considering circumstances; but I will not plague you with politics, wars, or earth quakes, though we had another very smart one three nights ago, which produced a scene ridiculous enough, as no damage was done, except to those who stuck fast in the scuffle to get first out of the doors and windows, amongst whom some recent importations fresh from England, who had been used to quieter telements, were rather squeezed in the press for precedence..... I have been obtaining the release of about nine-and-twenty Turkish prisoners-men, women, and children and have sent them, at my own expense, home to their friends; but one, a pretty little girl of nine years of age, named Hato or Halayée, has expressed a strong wish to remain with me, or under my care, and I have nearly determined to adopt her..... If not I can send her to Italy for education. She is very lively and quick, and with great black oriental eyes and Asiatic features. Her mother wishes to return to her husband, but says that she would rather entrust the child to me in the present state of the country. Her extreme youth and her sex have hitherto saved

respectably educated and treated, and 'if my years and all things be considered I presume it would be difficult to consider me to have other views 4.98 794The preference to prose (strange as it may now seem) was and indeed is mine (for I hate reading verse and always did) and I never invented (as a child) anything but boats, ships, and generally something relative to the ocean. But it is also fit though unpleasant that I should mention that my recent attack, and a very severe one, had a strong appearance of epilepsy. Why, I know not, for it is late in life, its first appearance at thirty-six, and so far as I know it is not hereditary, and it is that it may not become so that you should tell My attack has not returned, and

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roz l'at m
109 Ven
V 1 en-ra ebetud Atant vm 2
2. TRUE LOVE.4 FG,bu
radto vol poor shum of sustenal!
BY ELIZABETH TOWNBRIDGE.

sql de' Fast » mart comind" at SOAL
1 gad» 1
What though they tell me in fancy you range from me,
Pledging to others a lightly breath'd yow!
Never has time found one shadow of change in me,
True as when first we met is my love now
Every hope in my fond heart that trembles,
Into its timid life twines around youporn
Every jealous pang that heart disembless, pamily
E'en to itself will not own you untrue,

J.

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Love, who would call it love, meanly to doubt you, Creeping with petty fears, still on your track; True love is my

Still leaping, though grieving without you,

Ever around

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to joyous life; hailing you back. my lips deepening each dimple, As my glad smiles speak my welcome Nought do I care, that they say I am simple, The bliss but to see you gives, they never knew. 2 won sst'immon sda What though you left me for aye on the morrow, Wedding another for choice or for gold; *18 Silently bearing its burden of sorrow, 38 sypi Still should my love live on deep as untold ; Loving you ever, far from me or near to me, »

Ever more seeking your weal, not my own, Musing on all the sweet time I was dear to you, Until I dreamed it could never have flown. ind pad gem to ban!

Plucking the hopes from my own life to lay them
In all their freshuess my own at your feet;
Asking but one loving look itterness sweet;
to repay them,
One loving word

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