Not fanned alone by Victory's
fleeting
wing,
He reared his bold and brilliant throne on high;
The Bastard kept, like lions, his prey fast,
And Britain's bravest Victor was the last.
He reared his bold and brilliant throne on high;
The Bastard kept, like lions, his prey fast,
And Britain's bravest Victor was the last.
Byron
]
FOOTNOTES:
[120] ["To-morrow is my birthday--that is to say, at twelve o' the
clock, midnight; _i. e. _ in twelve minutes I shall have completed thirty
and three years of age! ! ! and I go to my bed with a heaviness of heart
at having lived so long, and to so little purpose. * * * It is three
minutes past twelve--''Tis the middle of night by the castle clock,' and
I am now thirty-three! --
'Eheu, fugaces, Posthume, Posthume,
Labuntur anni;'--
but I don't regret them so much for what I have done, as for what I
might have done. "--Extracts from a Diary, January 21, 1821, _Letters_,
1901, v. 182.
In a letter to Moore, dated January 22, 1821, he gives another version--
"Through Life's road, so dim and dirty,
I have dragged to three-and-thirty.
What _have_ these years left to me?
Nothing--except thirty-three. "
_Ibid. _, p. 229. ]
MARTIAL, LIB. I. EPIG. I.
"Hic est, quem legis, ille, quem requiris,
Toto notus in orbe Martialis," etc.
HE, unto whom thou art so partial,
Oh, reader! is the well-known Martial,
The Epigrammatist: while living,
Give him the fame thou would'st be giving;
So shall he hear, and feel, and know it--
Post-obits rarely reach a poet.
[N. D. ? 1821. ]
[First published, _Lord Byron's Works_, 1833, xvii. 245]
BOWLES AND CAMPBELL.
cTo the air of "How now, Madam Flirt," in the _Beggar's Opera_. [121]
BOWLES.
"WHY, how now, saucy Tom?
If you thus must ramble,
I will publish some
Remarks on Mister Campbell.
Saucy Tom! "
CAMPBELL.
"WHY, how now, Billy Bowles?
Sure the priest is maudlin!
(_To the public_) How can you, d--n your souls!
Listen to his twaddling?
_Billy Bowles_! "
_February 22, 1821. _
[First published, _The Liberal_, 1823, No. II. p. 398. ]
FOOTNOTES:
[121] [Compare the Beggar's Opera, act ii. sc. 2--
Air, "Good morrow, Gossip Joan. "
"Polly. _Why, how now, Madam Flirt?
If you thus must chatter,
And are for flinging dirt,
Let's try who best can spatter,
Madam Flirt_!
"Lucy. _Why, how now, saucy jade?
Sure the wench is tipsy!
How can you see me made
The scoff of such a gipsy_? [To him. ]
_Saucy jade_! " [To her. ]
Bowles replied to Campbell's Introductory Essay to his _Specimens of the
English Poets_, 7 vols. , 1819, by _The Invariable Principles of Poetry_,
in a letter addressed to Thomas Campbell. For Byron's two essays, the
"Letter to. . . . [John Murray]" and "Observations upon Observations," see
_Letters_, 1901, v. Appendix III. pp. 536-592. ]
ELEGY.
BEHOLD the blessings of a lucky lot!
My play is _damned_, and Lady Noel _not_.
_May 25, 1821. _
[First published, Medwin's _Conversations_, 1824, p. 121. ]
JOHN KEATS. [122]
WHO killed John Keats?
"I," says the Quarterly,
So savage and Tartarly;
"'T was one of my feats. "
Who shot the arrow?
"The poet-priest Milman
(So ready to kill man)
"Or Southey, or Barrow. "
_July 30, 1821. _
[First published, _Letters and Journals_, 1830, ii. 506. ]
FOOTNOTES:
[122] [For Croker's "article" on Keats's _Endymion_ (_Quarterly Review_,
April, 1818, vol. xix. pp. 204-208), see _Don Juan_, Canto XI. stanza
lx. line 1, _Poetical Works_, 1902, vi. 445, _note_ 4. ]
FROM THE FRENCH.
AEGLE, beauty and poet, has two little crimes;
She makes her own face, and does not make her rhymes.
_Aug. 2, 1821. _
[First published, _The Liberal_, 1823, No. II. p. 396. ]
TO MR. MURRAY.
1.
FOR Orford[123] and for Waldegrave[124]
You give much more than me you _gave_;
Which is not fairly to behave,
My Murray!
2.
Because if a live dog, 't is said,
Be worth a lion fairly sped,
A live lord must be worth _two_ dead,
My Murray!
3.
And if, as the opinion goes,
Verse hath a better sale than prose,--
Certes, I should have more than those,
My Murray!
4.
But now this sheet is nearly crammed,
So, if _you will_, _I_ shan't be shammed,
And if you _won't_,--_you_ may be damned,
My Murray! [125]
_August 23, 1821. _
[First published, _Letters and Journals_, 1830, ii. 517. ]
FOOTNOTES:
[123] [Horace Walpole's _Memoirs of the Last Nine Years of the Reign of
George II. _ ]
[124] [_Memoirs_ by James Earl Waldegrave, Governor of George III. when
Prince of Wales. ]
[125] ["Can't accept your courteous offer [_i. e. _ ? 2000 for three cantos
of _Don Juan, Sardanapalus_, and _The Two Foscari_. ] These matters must
be arranged with Mr. Douglas Kinnaird. He is my trustee, and a man of
honour. To him you can state all your mercantile reasons, which you
might not like to state to me personally, such as 'heavy season'--'flat
public'--'don't go off'--'lordship writes too much'--'won't take
advice'--'declining popularity'--'deductions for the trade'--'make very
little'--'generally lose by him'--'pirated edition'--'foreign
edition'--'severe criticisms,' etc. , with other hints and howls for an
oration, which I leave Douglas, who is an orator, to answer. "--Letter to
Murray, August 23, 1821, _Letters_, 1901, v. 348. ]
[NAPOLEON'S SNUFF-BOX. ][126]
LADY, accept the box a hero wore,
In spite of all this elegiac stuff:
Let not seven stanzas written by a bore,
Prevent your Ladyship from taking snuff!
1821.
[First published, _Conversations of Lord Byron_, 1824, p. 235. ]
FOOTNOTES:
[126] [Napoleon bequeathed to Lady Holland a snuff-box which had been
given to him by the Pope for his clemency in sparing Rome. Lord Carlisle
wrote eight (not seven) stanzas, urging her, as Byron told Medwin, to
decline the gift, "for fear that horror and murder should jump out of
the lid every time it is opened. "--_Conversations_, 1824, p. 362. The
first stanza of Lord Carlyle's verses, which _teste_ Medwin, Byron
parodied, runs thus--
"Lady, reject the gift! 'tis tinged with gore!
Those crimson spots a dreadful tale relate;
It has been grasp'd by an infernal Power;
And by that hand which seal'd young Enghien's fate. "
The snuff-box is now in the jewel-room in the British Museum. ]
THE NEW VICAR OF BRAY.
1.
DO you know Doctor Nott? [127]
With "a crook in his lot,"
Who seven years since tried to dish up
A neat Codi_cil_
To the Princess's Will,[128]
Which made Dr. Nott _not_ a bishop.
2.
So the Doctor being found
A little unsound
In his doctrine, at least as a teacher,
And kicked from one stool
As a knave or a fool,
He mounted another as preacher.
3.
In that Gown (like the Skin
With no Lion within)
He still for the Bench would be driving;
And roareth away,
A new Vicar of _Bray_,
Except that _his bray_ lost his living.
4.
"Gainst Freethinkers," he roars,
"You should all block your doors
Or be named in the Devil's indentures:"
And here I agree,
For who e'er would be
A Guest where old Simony enters?
5.
Let the Priest, who beguiled
His own Sovereign's child
To his own dirty views of promotion,
Wear his Sheep's cloathing still
Among flocks to his will,
And dishonour the Cause of devotion.
6.
The Altar and Throne
Are in danger alone
From such as himself, who would render
The Altar itself
But a step up to Pelf,
And pray God to pay his defender.
7.
But, Doctor, one word
Which perhaps you have heard
"He should never throw stones who has windows
Of Glass to be broken,
And by this same token
As a sinner, you can't care what Sin does.
8.
But perhaps you do well:
Your own windows, they tell,
Have long ago suffered censure;
Not a fragment remains
Of your character's panes,
Since the Regent refused you a glazier.
9.
Though your visions of lawn
Have all been withdrawn,
And you missed your bold stroke for a mitre;
In a very snug way
You may still preach and pray,
And from bishop sink into backbiter! "
[First published, _Works_ (Galignani), 1831, p. 116. ]
FOOTNOTES:
[127] [George Frederick Nott (1767-1841), critic and divine, was Rector
of Harrietsham and Woodchurch, a Prebendary of Winchester and of
Salisbury. He was Bampton Lecturer in 1802, and, soon afterwards, was
appointed sub-preceptor to the Princess Charlotte of Wales. He was a
connoisseur of architecture and painting, and passed much of his time in
Italy and at Rome. When he was at Pisa he preached in a private room in
the basement story of the house in Pisa where Shelley was living, and
fell under Byron's displeasure for attacking the Satanic school, and
denouncing _Cain_ as a blasphemous production. "The parsons," he told
Moore (letter, February 20, 1820), "preached at it [_Cain_] from Kentish
Town to Pisa. " Hence the apostrophe to Dr. Nott. (See _Records of
Shelley, Byron, and the Author_, by E. T. Trelawny, 1887, pp. 302, 303. )]
[128] [According to Lady Anne Hamilton (_Secret History of the Court of
England_, 1832, i. 198-207), the Princess Charlotte incurred the
suspicion and displeasure of her uncles and her grandmother, the Queen,
by displaying an ardent and undue interest in her sub-preceptor. On
being reproved by the Queen for "condescending to favour persons in low
life with confidence or particular respect, persons likely to take
advantage of your simplicity and innocence," and having learnt that
"persons" meant Mr. Nott, she replied by threatening to sign a will in
favour of her sub-preceptor, and by actually making over to him by a
deed her library, jewels, and all other private property. Lady Anne
Hamilton is not an accurate or trustworthy authority, but her extremely
circumstantial narrative was, no doubt, an expansion of the contemporary
scandal to which Byron's lampoon gave currency. ]
LUCIETTA. A FRAGMENT.
LUCIETTA, my deary,
That fairest of faces!
Is made up of kisses;
But, in love, oft the case is
Even stranger than this is--
There's another, that's slyer,
Who touches me nigher,--
A Witch, an intriguer,
Whose manner and figure
Now piques me, excites me,
Torments and delights me--
_Caetera desunt_.
[From an autograph MS. in the possession of Mr. Murray,
now for the first time printed. ]
EPIGRAMS.
OH, Castlereagh! thou art a patriot now;
Cato died for his country, so did'st thou:
He perished rather than see Rome enslaved,
Thou cut'st thy throat that Britain may be saved!
* * * * *
So Castlereagh has cut his throat! --The worst
Of this is,--that his own was not the first.
* * * * *
So _He_ has cut his throat at last! --He! Who?
The man who cut his country's long ago.
_? August, 1822. _
[First published, _The Liberal_, No. I. October 18, 1822, p. 164. ]
THE CONQUEST. [129]
THE Son of Love and Lord of War I sing;
Him who bade England bow to Normandy,
And left the name of Conqueror more than King
To his unconquerable dynasty.
Not fanned alone by Victory's fleeting wing,
He reared his bold and brilliant throne on high;
The Bastard kept, like lions, his prey fast,
And Britain's bravest Victor was the last.
_March 8-9, 1823. _
[First published, _Lord Byron's Works_, 1833, xvii. 246. ]
FOOTNOTES:
[129] [This fragment was found amongst Lord Byron's papers, after his
departure from Genoa for Greece. ]
IMPROMPTU. [130]
BENEATH Blessington's eyes
The reclaimed Paradise
Should be free as the former from evil;
But if the new Eve
For an Apple should grieve,
What mortal would not play the Devil?
_April, 1823. _
[First published, _Letters and Journals_, 1830, ii. 635. ]
FOOTNOTES:
[130] [With the view of inducing these friends [Lord and Lady
Blessington] to prolong their stay at Genoa, he suggested their taking a
pretty villa, called "Il Paradiso," in the neighbourhood of his own, and
accompanied them to look at it. Upon that occasion it was that, on the
lady expressing some intention of residing there, he produced the
following impromptu. --_Life_, 577. ]
JOURNAL IN CEPHALONIA.
THE dead have been awakened--shall I sleep?
The World's at war with tyrants--shall I crouch?
The harvest's ripe--and shall I pause to reap?
I slumber not; the thorn is in my Couch;
Each day a trumpet soundeth in mine ear,
Its echo in my heart----
_June 19, 1823. _
[First published, _Letters_, 1901, vi. 238. ]
SONG TO THE SULIOTES.
1.
UP to battle! Sons of Suli
Up, and do your duty duly!
There the wall--and there the Moat is:
Bouwah! [131] Bouwah! Suliotes!
There is booty--there is Beauty,
Up my boys and do your duty.
2.
By the sally and the rally
Which defied the arms of Ali;
By your own dear native Highlands,
By your children in the islands,
Up and charge, my Stratiotes,
Bouwah! --Bouwah! --Suliotes!
3.
As our ploughshare is the Sabre:
Here's the harvest of our labour;
For behind those battered breaches
Are our foes with all their riches:
There is Glory--there is plunder--
Then away despite of thunder!
[From an autograph MS. in the possession of Mr. Murray,
now for the first time printed. ]
FOOTNOTES:
[131] "Bouwah! " is their war-cry.
[LOVE AND DEATH. ]
1.
I WATCHED thee when the foe was at our side,
Ready to strike at him--or thee and me.
Were safety hopeless--rather than divide
Aught with one loved save love and liberty.
2.
I watched thee on the breakers, when the rock
Received our prow and all was storm and fear,
And bade thee cling to me through every shock;
This arm would be thy bark, or breast thy bier.
3.
I watched thee when the fever glazed thine eyes,
Yielding my couch and stretched me on the ground,
When overworn with watching, ne'er to rise
From thence if thou an early grave hadst found.
4.
The earthquake came, and rocked the quivering wall,
And men and nature reeled as if with wine.
Whom did I seek around the tottering hall?
For thee. Whose safety first provide for? Thine.
5.
And when convulsive throes denied my breath
The faintest utterance to my fading thought,
To thee--to thee--e'en in the gasp of death
My spirit turned, oh! oftener than it ought.
6.
Thus much and more; and yet thou lov'st me not,
And never wilt! Love dwells not in our will.
Nor can I blame thee, though it be my lot
To strongly, wrongly, vainly love thee still. [132]
[First published, _Murray's Magazine_, February, 1887,
vol. i. pp. 145, 146. ]
FOOTNOTES:
[132] ["The last he ever wrote. From a rough copy found amongst his
papers at the back of the 'Song of Suli. ' Copied November, 1824. --John
C. Hobhouse. "
"A note, attached to the verses by Lord Byron, states they were
addressed to no one in particular, and were a mere poetical Scherzo.
--J. C. H. "]
LAST WORDS ON GREECE.
WHAT are to me those honours or renown
Past or to come, a new-born people's cry?
Albeit for such I could despise a crown
Of aught save laurel, or for such could die.
I am a fool of passion, and a frown
Of thine to me is as an adder's eye.
To the poor bird whose pinion fluttering down
Wafts unto death the breast it bore so high;
Such is this maddening fascination grown,
So strong thy magic or so weak am I.
[First published, _Murray's Magazine_, February,
1887, vol. i. p. 146. ]
ON THIS DAY I COMPLETE MY THIRTY-SIXTH YEAR. [133]
1.
'T IS time this heart should be unmoved,
Since others it hath ceased to move:
Yet, though I cannot be beloved,
Still let me love!
2.
My days are in the yellow leaf;
The flowers and fruits of Love are gone;
The worm, the canker, and the grief
Are mine alone!
3.
The fire that on my bosom preys
Is lone[iii] as some Volcanic isle;
No torch is kindled at its blaze--
A funeral pile.
4.
The hope, the fear, the jealous care,
The exalted portion of the pain
And power of love, I cannot share,
But wear the chain.
5.
But 't is not _thus_--and 't is not _here_--[iv]
Such thoughts should shake my soul, nor now
Where Glory decks the hero's bier,[v]
Or binds his brow.
6.
The Sword, the Banner, and the Field,[vi]
Glory and Greece, around me see!
The Spartan, borne upon his shield,[134]
Was not more free.
7.
Awake! (not Greece--she _is_ awake! )
Awake, my spirit! Think through _whom_
Thy life-blood tracks its parent lake,[vii]
And then strike home!
8.
Tread those reviving passions down,[viii]
Unworthy manhood! --unto thee
Indifferent should the smile or frown
Of Beauty be.
9.
If thou regret'st thy youth, _why live_?
The land of honourable death
Is here:--up to the Field, and give
Away thy breath!
10.
Seek out--less often sought than found--
A soldier's grave, for thee the best;
Then look around, and choose thy ground,
And take thy Rest.
Missolonghi, _Jan_. 22, 1824.
[First published, _Morning Chronicle_, October 29, 1824. ]
FOOTNOTES:
[133] ["This morning Lord Byron came from his bedroom into the apartment
where Colonel Stanhope and some friends were assembled, and said with a
smile--'You were complaining, the other day, that I never write any
poetry now:--this is my birthday, and I have just finished something,
which, I think, is better than what I usually write. ' He then produced
these noble and affecting verses, which were afterwards found written in
his journals, with only the following introduction: 'Jan. 22; on this
day I complete my 36^th^ year. '"--_A Narrative of Lord Byron's Last
Journey to Greece_, 1825, p. 125, by Count Gamba. In the _Morning
Chronicle_, October 29, 1824, the lines are headed, "Lord Byron's Latest
Verses," and are prefaced by the following note: "We have been indebted
to a friend for the following immortal verses, the last he ever
composed. Four of the lines have already appeared in an article in the
_Westminster Review_" ("Lord Byron in Greece," July, 1824, vol. ii. p.
227). ]
[iii] _Is like to_----. --[M. C. ]
[iv] ----_it is not here_. --[M. C. ]
[v] ----_seals the hero's bier_. --[M. C. ]
[vi] _The steed--the Banner--and the Field. --_[MS. B. M. ]
[134] I. [The slain were borne on their shields. Witness the Spartan
mother's speech to her son, delivered with his buckler: "either _with_
this _or on_ this" (B. M. Addit. MS. 31,038). ]
[vii] _My life-blood tastes_----. --[M. C. ]
[viii] _I tread reviving_----. --[M. C. ]
A BIBLIOGRAPHY
OF THE
SUCCESSIVE EDITIONS AND TRANSLATIONS
OF
LORD BYRON'S _POETICAL WORKS_.
COLLECTED EDITIONS.
I.
The/ Poetical Works/ of/ Lord Byron. / In Two Volumes. / Vol. I. /
[Vol. II. ] From the last London Edition. / Philadelphia:/ Published by
Moses Thomas,/ No. 52, Chesnut Street. / William Fry, Printer. / 1813. /
[16? .
[A bound copy: smooth blue calf, lettered "LORD BYRON. "]
_Collation_--
Vol. I. --Title, one leaf; Cont. ; Half-title; Dedication; and Text, pp.
_1_-203.
Vol. II--Title, one leaf; Cont. ; Half-title; Preface, etc, pp. i. -xii. ;
Text, pp. _1_-261.
_Contents_--
Vol. I. :--Poems, Original and Translated p. 1
English Bards, etc. p. 137
Vol. II. :--Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto I. p. 13
(xciii. stanzas)
Canto II. (lxxxviii. stanzas) p. 9
Notes p. 99
Poems (xx. ) p. 156
The Giaour (1215 lines) p. 205
Note p. 261
_Note_ (Vol. I. ). --On fly-leaf: "To the Rt. Honourable Lord Byron from
his obt. servant Geo Ticknor, June 20.
FOOTNOTES:
[120] ["To-morrow is my birthday--that is to say, at twelve o' the
clock, midnight; _i. e. _ in twelve minutes I shall have completed thirty
and three years of age! ! ! and I go to my bed with a heaviness of heart
at having lived so long, and to so little purpose. * * * It is three
minutes past twelve--''Tis the middle of night by the castle clock,' and
I am now thirty-three! --
'Eheu, fugaces, Posthume, Posthume,
Labuntur anni;'--
but I don't regret them so much for what I have done, as for what I
might have done. "--Extracts from a Diary, January 21, 1821, _Letters_,
1901, v. 182.
In a letter to Moore, dated January 22, 1821, he gives another version--
"Through Life's road, so dim and dirty,
I have dragged to three-and-thirty.
What _have_ these years left to me?
Nothing--except thirty-three. "
_Ibid. _, p. 229. ]
MARTIAL, LIB. I. EPIG. I.
"Hic est, quem legis, ille, quem requiris,
Toto notus in orbe Martialis," etc.
HE, unto whom thou art so partial,
Oh, reader! is the well-known Martial,
The Epigrammatist: while living,
Give him the fame thou would'st be giving;
So shall he hear, and feel, and know it--
Post-obits rarely reach a poet.
[N. D. ? 1821. ]
[First published, _Lord Byron's Works_, 1833, xvii. 245]
BOWLES AND CAMPBELL.
cTo the air of "How now, Madam Flirt," in the _Beggar's Opera_. [121]
BOWLES.
"WHY, how now, saucy Tom?
If you thus must ramble,
I will publish some
Remarks on Mister Campbell.
Saucy Tom! "
CAMPBELL.
"WHY, how now, Billy Bowles?
Sure the priest is maudlin!
(_To the public_) How can you, d--n your souls!
Listen to his twaddling?
_Billy Bowles_! "
_February 22, 1821. _
[First published, _The Liberal_, 1823, No. II. p. 398. ]
FOOTNOTES:
[121] [Compare the Beggar's Opera, act ii. sc. 2--
Air, "Good morrow, Gossip Joan. "
"Polly. _Why, how now, Madam Flirt?
If you thus must chatter,
And are for flinging dirt,
Let's try who best can spatter,
Madam Flirt_!
"Lucy. _Why, how now, saucy jade?
Sure the wench is tipsy!
How can you see me made
The scoff of such a gipsy_? [To him. ]
_Saucy jade_! " [To her. ]
Bowles replied to Campbell's Introductory Essay to his _Specimens of the
English Poets_, 7 vols. , 1819, by _The Invariable Principles of Poetry_,
in a letter addressed to Thomas Campbell. For Byron's two essays, the
"Letter to. . . . [John Murray]" and "Observations upon Observations," see
_Letters_, 1901, v. Appendix III. pp. 536-592. ]
ELEGY.
BEHOLD the blessings of a lucky lot!
My play is _damned_, and Lady Noel _not_.
_May 25, 1821. _
[First published, Medwin's _Conversations_, 1824, p. 121. ]
JOHN KEATS. [122]
WHO killed John Keats?
"I," says the Quarterly,
So savage and Tartarly;
"'T was one of my feats. "
Who shot the arrow?
"The poet-priest Milman
(So ready to kill man)
"Or Southey, or Barrow. "
_July 30, 1821. _
[First published, _Letters and Journals_, 1830, ii. 506. ]
FOOTNOTES:
[122] [For Croker's "article" on Keats's _Endymion_ (_Quarterly Review_,
April, 1818, vol. xix. pp. 204-208), see _Don Juan_, Canto XI. stanza
lx. line 1, _Poetical Works_, 1902, vi. 445, _note_ 4. ]
FROM THE FRENCH.
AEGLE, beauty and poet, has two little crimes;
She makes her own face, and does not make her rhymes.
_Aug. 2, 1821. _
[First published, _The Liberal_, 1823, No. II. p. 396. ]
TO MR. MURRAY.
1.
FOR Orford[123] and for Waldegrave[124]
You give much more than me you _gave_;
Which is not fairly to behave,
My Murray!
2.
Because if a live dog, 't is said,
Be worth a lion fairly sped,
A live lord must be worth _two_ dead,
My Murray!
3.
And if, as the opinion goes,
Verse hath a better sale than prose,--
Certes, I should have more than those,
My Murray!
4.
But now this sheet is nearly crammed,
So, if _you will_, _I_ shan't be shammed,
And if you _won't_,--_you_ may be damned,
My Murray! [125]
_August 23, 1821. _
[First published, _Letters and Journals_, 1830, ii. 517. ]
FOOTNOTES:
[123] [Horace Walpole's _Memoirs of the Last Nine Years of the Reign of
George II. _ ]
[124] [_Memoirs_ by James Earl Waldegrave, Governor of George III. when
Prince of Wales. ]
[125] ["Can't accept your courteous offer [_i. e. _ ? 2000 for three cantos
of _Don Juan, Sardanapalus_, and _The Two Foscari_. ] These matters must
be arranged with Mr. Douglas Kinnaird. He is my trustee, and a man of
honour. To him you can state all your mercantile reasons, which you
might not like to state to me personally, such as 'heavy season'--'flat
public'--'don't go off'--'lordship writes too much'--'won't take
advice'--'declining popularity'--'deductions for the trade'--'make very
little'--'generally lose by him'--'pirated edition'--'foreign
edition'--'severe criticisms,' etc. , with other hints and howls for an
oration, which I leave Douglas, who is an orator, to answer. "--Letter to
Murray, August 23, 1821, _Letters_, 1901, v. 348. ]
[NAPOLEON'S SNUFF-BOX. ][126]
LADY, accept the box a hero wore,
In spite of all this elegiac stuff:
Let not seven stanzas written by a bore,
Prevent your Ladyship from taking snuff!
1821.
[First published, _Conversations of Lord Byron_, 1824, p. 235. ]
FOOTNOTES:
[126] [Napoleon bequeathed to Lady Holland a snuff-box which had been
given to him by the Pope for his clemency in sparing Rome. Lord Carlisle
wrote eight (not seven) stanzas, urging her, as Byron told Medwin, to
decline the gift, "for fear that horror and murder should jump out of
the lid every time it is opened. "--_Conversations_, 1824, p. 362. The
first stanza of Lord Carlyle's verses, which _teste_ Medwin, Byron
parodied, runs thus--
"Lady, reject the gift! 'tis tinged with gore!
Those crimson spots a dreadful tale relate;
It has been grasp'd by an infernal Power;
And by that hand which seal'd young Enghien's fate. "
The snuff-box is now in the jewel-room in the British Museum. ]
THE NEW VICAR OF BRAY.
1.
DO you know Doctor Nott? [127]
With "a crook in his lot,"
Who seven years since tried to dish up
A neat Codi_cil_
To the Princess's Will,[128]
Which made Dr. Nott _not_ a bishop.
2.
So the Doctor being found
A little unsound
In his doctrine, at least as a teacher,
And kicked from one stool
As a knave or a fool,
He mounted another as preacher.
3.
In that Gown (like the Skin
With no Lion within)
He still for the Bench would be driving;
And roareth away,
A new Vicar of _Bray_,
Except that _his bray_ lost his living.
4.
"Gainst Freethinkers," he roars,
"You should all block your doors
Or be named in the Devil's indentures:"
And here I agree,
For who e'er would be
A Guest where old Simony enters?
5.
Let the Priest, who beguiled
His own Sovereign's child
To his own dirty views of promotion,
Wear his Sheep's cloathing still
Among flocks to his will,
And dishonour the Cause of devotion.
6.
The Altar and Throne
Are in danger alone
From such as himself, who would render
The Altar itself
But a step up to Pelf,
And pray God to pay his defender.
7.
But, Doctor, one word
Which perhaps you have heard
"He should never throw stones who has windows
Of Glass to be broken,
And by this same token
As a sinner, you can't care what Sin does.
8.
But perhaps you do well:
Your own windows, they tell,
Have long ago suffered censure;
Not a fragment remains
Of your character's panes,
Since the Regent refused you a glazier.
9.
Though your visions of lawn
Have all been withdrawn,
And you missed your bold stroke for a mitre;
In a very snug way
You may still preach and pray,
And from bishop sink into backbiter! "
[First published, _Works_ (Galignani), 1831, p. 116. ]
FOOTNOTES:
[127] [George Frederick Nott (1767-1841), critic and divine, was Rector
of Harrietsham and Woodchurch, a Prebendary of Winchester and of
Salisbury. He was Bampton Lecturer in 1802, and, soon afterwards, was
appointed sub-preceptor to the Princess Charlotte of Wales. He was a
connoisseur of architecture and painting, and passed much of his time in
Italy and at Rome. When he was at Pisa he preached in a private room in
the basement story of the house in Pisa where Shelley was living, and
fell under Byron's displeasure for attacking the Satanic school, and
denouncing _Cain_ as a blasphemous production. "The parsons," he told
Moore (letter, February 20, 1820), "preached at it [_Cain_] from Kentish
Town to Pisa. " Hence the apostrophe to Dr. Nott. (See _Records of
Shelley, Byron, and the Author_, by E. T. Trelawny, 1887, pp. 302, 303. )]
[128] [According to Lady Anne Hamilton (_Secret History of the Court of
England_, 1832, i. 198-207), the Princess Charlotte incurred the
suspicion and displeasure of her uncles and her grandmother, the Queen,
by displaying an ardent and undue interest in her sub-preceptor. On
being reproved by the Queen for "condescending to favour persons in low
life with confidence or particular respect, persons likely to take
advantage of your simplicity and innocence," and having learnt that
"persons" meant Mr. Nott, she replied by threatening to sign a will in
favour of her sub-preceptor, and by actually making over to him by a
deed her library, jewels, and all other private property. Lady Anne
Hamilton is not an accurate or trustworthy authority, but her extremely
circumstantial narrative was, no doubt, an expansion of the contemporary
scandal to which Byron's lampoon gave currency. ]
LUCIETTA. A FRAGMENT.
LUCIETTA, my deary,
That fairest of faces!
Is made up of kisses;
But, in love, oft the case is
Even stranger than this is--
There's another, that's slyer,
Who touches me nigher,--
A Witch, an intriguer,
Whose manner and figure
Now piques me, excites me,
Torments and delights me--
_Caetera desunt_.
[From an autograph MS. in the possession of Mr. Murray,
now for the first time printed. ]
EPIGRAMS.
OH, Castlereagh! thou art a patriot now;
Cato died for his country, so did'st thou:
He perished rather than see Rome enslaved,
Thou cut'st thy throat that Britain may be saved!
* * * * *
So Castlereagh has cut his throat! --The worst
Of this is,--that his own was not the first.
* * * * *
So _He_ has cut his throat at last! --He! Who?
The man who cut his country's long ago.
_? August, 1822. _
[First published, _The Liberal_, No. I. October 18, 1822, p. 164. ]
THE CONQUEST. [129]
THE Son of Love and Lord of War I sing;
Him who bade England bow to Normandy,
And left the name of Conqueror more than King
To his unconquerable dynasty.
Not fanned alone by Victory's fleeting wing,
He reared his bold and brilliant throne on high;
The Bastard kept, like lions, his prey fast,
And Britain's bravest Victor was the last.
_March 8-9, 1823. _
[First published, _Lord Byron's Works_, 1833, xvii. 246. ]
FOOTNOTES:
[129] [This fragment was found amongst Lord Byron's papers, after his
departure from Genoa for Greece. ]
IMPROMPTU. [130]
BENEATH Blessington's eyes
The reclaimed Paradise
Should be free as the former from evil;
But if the new Eve
For an Apple should grieve,
What mortal would not play the Devil?
_April, 1823. _
[First published, _Letters and Journals_, 1830, ii. 635. ]
FOOTNOTES:
[130] [With the view of inducing these friends [Lord and Lady
Blessington] to prolong their stay at Genoa, he suggested their taking a
pretty villa, called "Il Paradiso," in the neighbourhood of his own, and
accompanied them to look at it. Upon that occasion it was that, on the
lady expressing some intention of residing there, he produced the
following impromptu. --_Life_, 577. ]
JOURNAL IN CEPHALONIA.
THE dead have been awakened--shall I sleep?
The World's at war with tyrants--shall I crouch?
The harvest's ripe--and shall I pause to reap?
I slumber not; the thorn is in my Couch;
Each day a trumpet soundeth in mine ear,
Its echo in my heart----
_June 19, 1823. _
[First published, _Letters_, 1901, vi. 238. ]
SONG TO THE SULIOTES.
1.
UP to battle! Sons of Suli
Up, and do your duty duly!
There the wall--and there the Moat is:
Bouwah! [131] Bouwah! Suliotes!
There is booty--there is Beauty,
Up my boys and do your duty.
2.
By the sally and the rally
Which defied the arms of Ali;
By your own dear native Highlands,
By your children in the islands,
Up and charge, my Stratiotes,
Bouwah! --Bouwah! --Suliotes!
3.
As our ploughshare is the Sabre:
Here's the harvest of our labour;
For behind those battered breaches
Are our foes with all their riches:
There is Glory--there is plunder--
Then away despite of thunder!
[From an autograph MS. in the possession of Mr. Murray,
now for the first time printed. ]
FOOTNOTES:
[131] "Bouwah! " is their war-cry.
[LOVE AND DEATH. ]
1.
I WATCHED thee when the foe was at our side,
Ready to strike at him--or thee and me.
Were safety hopeless--rather than divide
Aught with one loved save love and liberty.
2.
I watched thee on the breakers, when the rock
Received our prow and all was storm and fear,
And bade thee cling to me through every shock;
This arm would be thy bark, or breast thy bier.
3.
I watched thee when the fever glazed thine eyes,
Yielding my couch and stretched me on the ground,
When overworn with watching, ne'er to rise
From thence if thou an early grave hadst found.
4.
The earthquake came, and rocked the quivering wall,
And men and nature reeled as if with wine.
Whom did I seek around the tottering hall?
For thee. Whose safety first provide for? Thine.
5.
And when convulsive throes denied my breath
The faintest utterance to my fading thought,
To thee--to thee--e'en in the gasp of death
My spirit turned, oh! oftener than it ought.
6.
Thus much and more; and yet thou lov'st me not,
And never wilt! Love dwells not in our will.
Nor can I blame thee, though it be my lot
To strongly, wrongly, vainly love thee still. [132]
[First published, _Murray's Magazine_, February, 1887,
vol. i. pp. 145, 146. ]
FOOTNOTES:
[132] ["The last he ever wrote. From a rough copy found amongst his
papers at the back of the 'Song of Suli. ' Copied November, 1824. --John
C. Hobhouse. "
"A note, attached to the verses by Lord Byron, states they were
addressed to no one in particular, and were a mere poetical Scherzo.
--J. C. H. "]
LAST WORDS ON GREECE.
WHAT are to me those honours or renown
Past or to come, a new-born people's cry?
Albeit for such I could despise a crown
Of aught save laurel, or for such could die.
I am a fool of passion, and a frown
Of thine to me is as an adder's eye.
To the poor bird whose pinion fluttering down
Wafts unto death the breast it bore so high;
Such is this maddening fascination grown,
So strong thy magic or so weak am I.
[First published, _Murray's Magazine_, February,
1887, vol. i. p. 146. ]
ON THIS DAY I COMPLETE MY THIRTY-SIXTH YEAR. [133]
1.
'T IS time this heart should be unmoved,
Since others it hath ceased to move:
Yet, though I cannot be beloved,
Still let me love!
2.
My days are in the yellow leaf;
The flowers and fruits of Love are gone;
The worm, the canker, and the grief
Are mine alone!
3.
The fire that on my bosom preys
Is lone[iii] as some Volcanic isle;
No torch is kindled at its blaze--
A funeral pile.
4.
The hope, the fear, the jealous care,
The exalted portion of the pain
And power of love, I cannot share,
But wear the chain.
5.
But 't is not _thus_--and 't is not _here_--[iv]
Such thoughts should shake my soul, nor now
Where Glory decks the hero's bier,[v]
Or binds his brow.
6.
The Sword, the Banner, and the Field,[vi]
Glory and Greece, around me see!
The Spartan, borne upon his shield,[134]
Was not more free.
7.
Awake! (not Greece--she _is_ awake! )
Awake, my spirit! Think through _whom_
Thy life-blood tracks its parent lake,[vii]
And then strike home!
8.
Tread those reviving passions down,[viii]
Unworthy manhood! --unto thee
Indifferent should the smile or frown
Of Beauty be.
9.
If thou regret'st thy youth, _why live_?
The land of honourable death
Is here:--up to the Field, and give
Away thy breath!
10.
Seek out--less often sought than found--
A soldier's grave, for thee the best;
Then look around, and choose thy ground,
And take thy Rest.
Missolonghi, _Jan_. 22, 1824.
[First published, _Morning Chronicle_, October 29, 1824. ]
FOOTNOTES:
[133] ["This morning Lord Byron came from his bedroom into the apartment
where Colonel Stanhope and some friends were assembled, and said with a
smile--'You were complaining, the other day, that I never write any
poetry now:--this is my birthday, and I have just finished something,
which, I think, is better than what I usually write. ' He then produced
these noble and affecting verses, which were afterwards found written in
his journals, with only the following introduction: 'Jan. 22; on this
day I complete my 36^th^ year. '"--_A Narrative of Lord Byron's Last
Journey to Greece_, 1825, p. 125, by Count Gamba. In the _Morning
Chronicle_, October 29, 1824, the lines are headed, "Lord Byron's Latest
Verses," and are prefaced by the following note: "We have been indebted
to a friend for the following immortal verses, the last he ever
composed. Four of the lines have already appeared in an article in the
_Westminster Review_" ("Lord Byron in Greece," July, 1824, vol. ii. p.
227). ]
[iii] _Is like to_----. --[M. C. ]
[iv] ----_it is not here_. --[M. C. ]
[v] ----_seals the hero's bier_. --[M. C. ]
[vi] _The steed--the Banner--and the Field. --_[MS. B. M. ]
[134] I. [The slain were borne on their shields. Witness the Spartan
mother's speech to her son, delivered with his buckler: "either _with_
this _or on_ this" (B. M. Addit. MS. 31,038). ]
[vii] _My life-blood tastes_----. --[M. C. ]
[viii] _I tread reviving_----. --[M. C. ]
A BIBLIOGRAPHY
OF THE
SUCCESSIVE EDITIONS AND TRANSLATIONS
OF
LORD BYRON'S _POETICAL WORKS_.
COLLECTED EDITIONS.
I.
The/ Poetical Works/ of/ Lord Byron. / In Two Volumes. / Vol. I. /
[Vol. II. ] From the last London Edition. / Philadelphia:/ Published by
Moses Thomas,/ No. 52, Chesnut Street. / William Fry, Printer. / 1813. /
[16? .
[A bound copy: smooth blue calf, lettered "LORD BYRON. "]
_Collation_--
Vol. I. --Title, one leaf; Cont. ; Half-title; Dedication; and Text, pp.
_1_-203.
Vol. II--Title, one leaf; Cont. ; Half-title; Preface, etc, pp. i. -xii. ;
Text, pp. _1_-261.
_Contents_--
Vol. I. :--Poems, Original and Translated p. 1
English Bards, etc. p. 137
Vol. II. :--Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto I. p. 13
(xciii. stanzas)
Canto II. (lxxxviii. stanzas) p. 9
Notes p. 99
Poems (xx. ) p. 156
The Giaour (1215 lines) p. 205
Note p. 261
_Note_ (Vol. I. ). --On fly-leaf: "To the Rt. Honourable Lord Byron from
his obt. servant Geo Ticknor, June 20.
