No More Learning

Bowles and Campbell. First published, _The Liberal_, 1823, No. II. 74
p. 398.

Elegy. First published, Medwin's _Conversations_, 1824, p. 121. 75

John Keats. First published, _Letters and Journals_, 1830, ii. 506. 76

From the French ("AEgle, beauty and poet," etc. ). First published, 76
_The Liberal_, 1823, No. II. p. 396.

To Mr. Murray ("For Orford," etc. ). First published, _Letters and 76
Journals_, 1830, ii. 517.

[Napoleon's Snuff-box. ] First published, _Conversations of Lord 77
Byron_, 1824, p. 235.

The New Vicar of Bray. First published, _Works_ (Galignani), 1831, 78
p. 116.

Lucietta. A Fragment. _MS. M_. 81

Epigrams. First published, _The Liberal_, No. I. October 18, 1822, 81
p. 164.

The Conquest. First published, _Lord Byron's Works_, 1833, xvii. 82
246.

Impromptu ("Beneath Blessington's eyes"). First published, _Letters 82
and Journals_, 1830, ii. 635.

Journal in Cephalonia. First published, _Letters_, 1901, vi. 238. 83

Song to the Suliotes. _MS. M_. 83

[Love and Death. ] First published, _Murray's Magazine_, February, 84
1887, vol. i. pp. 145, 146.

Last Words on Greece. First published, _Murray's Magazine_, 85
February, 1887, vol. i. p. 146.

On this Day I complete my Thirty-sixth Year. First published, 86
_Morning Chronicle_, October 29, 1824.

A BIBLIOGRAPHY OF THE SUCCESSIVE EDITIONS AND TRANSLATIONS OF LORD 89
BYRON'S _POETICAL WORKS_.

NOTES--

Note (1). --On Genuine and Spurious Issues of _English Bards, and 305
Scotch Reviewers_.

Note (2). --Correspondence between the First Edition as numbered and 307
the Present Issue as numbered.

Note (3). --The Annotated Copies of the Fourth Edition of 1811 310

APPENDIX TO BIBLIOGRAPHY 314

CONTENTS OF BIBLIOGRAPHY 317

SUMMARY OF BIBLIOGRAPHY 319

INDEX 349

INDEX TO FIRST LINES 449




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

1. Mrs. Birdmere's House, Southwell 2

2. Annesley Hall 38

3. Diadem Hill (Annesley Park), where Lord Byron parted 304
from Mary Chaworth

4. The Prison Called Tasso's Cell, in the Hospital of 348
Sant'Anna, at Ferrara




JEUX D'ESPRIT AND MINOR POEMS, 1798-1824.



EPIGRAM ON AN OLD LADY WHO HAD
SOME CURIOUS NOTIONS RESPECTING THE SOUL.

IN Nottingham county there lives at Swan Green,[1]
As curst an old Lady as ever was seen;
And when she does die, which I hope will be soon,
She firmly believes she will go to the Moon!

1798.
[First published, _Letters and Journals_, 1830, i. 28. ]

FOOTNOTES:

[1] "Swan Green" should be "Swine Green. " It lay about a quarter of a
mile to the east of St. James's Lane, where Byron lodged in 1799, at the
house of a Mr. Gill. The name appears in a directory of 1799, but by
1815 it had been expunged or changed _euphoniae gratia_. (See _A New Plan
of the Town of Nottingham_, . . . 1744. )

Moore took down "these rhymes" from the lips of Byron's nurse, May Gray,
who regarded them as a first essay in the direction of poetry. He
questioned their originality.



EPITAPH ON JOHN ADAMS, OF SOUTHWELL,
A CARRIER, WHO DIED OF DRUNKENNESS.

JOHN ADAMS lies here, of the parish of Southwell,
A _Carrier_ who _carried_ his can to his mouth well;
He carried so much and he carried so fast,
He could carry no more--so was carried at last;
For the liquor he drank being too much for one,
He could not _carry_ off;--so he's now _carri-on_.

_September_, 1807.
[First published, _Letters and Journals_, 1830, i. 106. ]


[Illustration: MRS. BIRDMERE'S HOUSE, SOUTHWELL. ]



A VERSION OF OSSIAN'S ADDRESS TO THE SUN.

FROM THE POEM "CARTHON. "

O THOU! who rollest in yon azure field,
Round as the orb of my forefather's shield,
Whence are thy beams? From what eternal store
Dost thou, O Sun! thy vast effulgence pour?
In awful grandeur, when thou movest on high,
The stars start back and hide them in the sky;
The pale Moon sickens in thy brightening blaze,
And in the western wave avoids thy gaze.
Alone thou shinest forth--for who can rise
Companion of thy splendour in the skies!
The mountain oaks are seen to fall away--
Mountains themselves by length of years decay--
With ebbs and flows is the rough Ocean tost;
In heaven the Moon is for a season lost,
But thou, amidst the fullness of thy joy,
The same art ever, blazing in the sky!
When tempests wrap the world from pole to pole,
When vivid lightnings flash and thunders roll,
Thou far above their utmost fury borne,
Look'st forth in beauty, laughing them to scorn.
But vainly now on me thy beauties blaze--
Ossian no longer can enraptured gaze!
Whether at morn, in lucid lustre gay,
On eastern clouds thy yellow tresses play,
Or else at eve, in radiant glory drest,
Thou tremblest at the portals of the west,
I see no more! But thou mayest fail at length,
Like Ossian lose thy beauty and thy strength,
Like him--but for a season--in thy sphere
To shine with splendour, then to disappear!
Thy years shall have an end, and thou no more
Bright through the world enlivening radiance pour,
But sleep within thy clouds, and fail to rise,
Heedless when Morning calls thee to the skies!
Then now exult, O Sun! and gaily shine,
While Youth and Strength and Beauty all are thine.
For Age is dark, unlovely, as the light
Shed by the Moon when clouds deform the night,
Glimmering uncertain as they hurry past.
Loud o'er the plain is heard the northern blast,
Mists shroud the hills, and 'neath the growing gloom,
The weary traveller shrinks and sighs for home.

1806.
[First published, _Atlantic Monthly_, December, 1898. ][2]

FOOTNOTES:

[2] [I am indebted to the courtesy of Mr. Pierre De La Rose for sending
me a copy of the foregoing _Version of Ossian's Address to the Sun_,
which was "Privately printed at the Press of Oliver B. Graves,
Cambridge, Massachusetts, June the Tenth, MDCCCXCVIII. ," and was
reprinted in the _Atlantic Monthly_ in December, 1898. A prefatory note
entitled, "From Lord Byron's Notes," is prefixed to the Version: "In
Lord Byron's copy of _The Poems of Ossian_ (printed by Dewick and
Clarke, London, 1806), which, since 1874, has been in the possession of
the Library of Harvard University as part of the Sumner Bequest. The
notes which follow appear in Byron's hand. " (For the _Notes_, see the
_Atlantic Monthly_, 1898, vol. lxxxii. pp. 810-814. )

It is strange that Byron should have made two versions (for another
"version" from the Newstead MSS. , see _Poetical Works_, 1898, i.
229-231) of the "Address to the Sun," which forms the conclusion of
"Carthon;" but the Harvard version appears to be genuine. It is to be
noted that Byron appended to the earlier version eighteen lines of his
own composition, by way of moral or application. ]



LINES TO MR. HODGSON.

WRITTEN ON BOARD THE LISBON PACKET.

1.

HUZZA! Hodgson[3], we are going,
Our embargo's off at last;
Favourable breezes blowing
Bend the canvas o'er the mast.
From aloft the signal's streaming,
Hark! the farewell gun is fired;
Women screeching, tars blaspheming,
Tell us that our time's expired.
Here's a rascal
Come to task all,
Prying from the Custom-house;
Trunks unpacking
Cases cracking,
Not a corner for a mouse
Scapes unsearched amid the racket,
Ere we sail on board the Packet.

2.

Now our boatmen quit their mooring,
And all hands must ply the oar;
Baggage from the quay is lowering,
We're impatient, push from shore.
"Have a care! that case holds liquor--
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,
Gemmen, ladies, servants, Jacks;
Here entangling,
All are wrangling,
Stuck together close as wax. --
Such the general noise and racket,
Ere we reach the Lisbon Packet.

3.

Now we've reached her, lo! the Captain,
Gallant Kidd,[4] commands the crew;
Passengers their berths are clapt in,
Some to grumble, some to spew.
"Hey day! call you that a cabin?
Why't is hardly three feet square!
Not enough to stow Queen Mab in--
Who the deuce can harbour there? "
"Who, sir? plenty--
Nobles twenty
Did at once my vessel fill. "--
"Did they? Jesus,
How you squeeze us!
Would to God they did so still!
Then I'd 'scape the heat and racket
Of the good ship, Lisbon Packet. "

4.

Fletcher! Murray! Bob! [5] where are you?
Stretched along the deck like logs--
Bear a hand, you jolly tar, you!
Here's a rope's end for the dogs.
Hobhouse muttering fearful curses,
As the hatchway down he rolls,
Now his breakfast, now his verses,
Vomits forth--and damns our souls.
"Here's a stanza[6]
On Braganza--
Help! "--"A couplet? "--"No, a cup
Of warm water--"
"What's the matter? "
"Zounds! my liver's coming up;
I shall not survive the racket
Of this brutal Lisbon Packet. "

5.

Now at length we're off for Turkey,
Lord knows when we shall come back!
Breezes foul and tempests murky
May unship us in a crack.
But, since Life at most a jest is,
As philosophers allow,
Still to laugh by far the best is,
Then laugh on--as I do now.
Laugh at all things,
Great and small things,
Sick or well, at sea or shore;
While we're quaffing,
Let's have laughing--
Who the devil cares for more? --
Some good wine! and who would lack it,
Ev'n on board the Lisbon Packet?

Falmouth Roads, _June_ 30, 1809.
[First published, _Letters and Journals_, 1830, i. 230-232. ]

FOOTNOTES:

[3] [For Francis Hodgson (1781-1852), see _Letters_, 1898, i. 195,
_note_ 1. ]

[4] [Compare Peter Pindar's _Ode to a Margate Hoy_--
"Go, beauteous Hoy, in safety ev'ry inch!
That storm should wreck thee, gracious Heav'n forbid!
Whether commanded by brave Captain Finch
Or equally tremendous Captain Kidd. "]

[5] [Murray was "Joe" Murray, an ancient retainer of the "Wicked Lord. "
Bob was Robert Rushton, the "little page" of "Childe Harold's Good
Night. " (See _Poetical Works_, 1899, ii. 26, _note_ 1. )]

[6] [For "the stanza," addressed to the "Princely offspring of
Braganza," published in the _Morning Post_, December 30, 1807, see
_English Bards, etc. _, line 142, _note_ 1, _Poetical Works_, 1898, i.
308, 309. ]



[TO DIVES. [7] A FRAGMENT. ]

UNHAPPY Dives! in an evil hour
'Gainst Nature's voice seduced to deeds accurst!
Once Fortune's minion now thou feel'st her power;
Wrath's vial on thy lofty head hath burst.
In Wit, in Genius, as in Wealth the first,
How wondrous bright thy blooming morn arose!
But thou wert smitten with th' unhallowed thirst
Of Crime unnamed, and thy sad noon must close
In scorn and solitude unsought the worst of woes.

1809.
[First published, _Lord Byron's Works_, 1833, xvii. 241. ]

FOOTNOTES:

[7] [Dives was William Beckford. See _Childe Harold_, Canto I. stanza
xxii. line 6, _Poetical Works_, 1899, ii. 37, _note_ 1. ]



FAREWELL PETITION TO J. C. H. , ESQ^RE^.

O THOU yclep'd by vulgar sons of Men
Cam Hobhouse! [8] but by wags Byzantian Ben!
Twin sacred titles, which combined appear
To grace thy volume's front, and gild its rear,
Since now thou put'st thyself and work to Sea
And leav'st all Greece to _Fletcher_[9] and to me,
Oh, hear my single muse our sorrows tell,
_One_ song for _self_ and Fletcher quite as well--

First to the _Castle_ of that man of woes
Dispatch the letter which _I must_ enclose,
And when his lone Penelope shall say
_Why, where_, and _wherefore_ doth my William stay?
Spare not to move her pity, or her pride--
By all that Hero suffered, or defied;
The _chicken's toughness_, and the _lack_ of _ale_
The _stoney mountain_ and the _miry vale_
The _Garlick_ steams, which _half_ his meals enrich,
The _impending vermin_, and the threatened _Itch_,
That _ever breaking_ Bed, beyond repair!
The hat too _old_, the coat too _cold_ to wear,
The Hunger, _which repulsed from Sally's door_
Pursues her grumbling half from shore to shore,
Be these the themes to greet his faithful Rib
So may thy pen be smooth, thy tongue be glib!

This duty done, let me in turn demand
Some friendly office in my native land,
Yet let me ponder well, before I ask,
And set thee swearing at the tedious task.

First the Miscellany! [10]--to Southwell town
_Per coach_ for Mrs. _Pigot_ frank it down,
So may'st them prosper in the paths of Sale,[11]
And Longman smirk and critics cease to rail.

All hail to Matthews! [12] wash his reverend feet,
And in my name the man of Method greet,--
Tell him, my Guide, Philosopher, and Friend,
Who cannot love me, and who will not mend,
Tell him, that not in vain I shall assay
To tread and trace our "old Horatian way,"[13]
And be (with prose supply my dearth of rhymes)
What better men have been in better times.

Here let me cease, for why should I prolong
My notes, and vex a _Singer_ with a _Song_?
Oh thou with pen perpetual in thy fist!
Dubbed for thy sins a stark Miscellanist,
So pleased the printer's orders to perform
For Messrs. _Longman_, _Hurst_ and _Rees_ and _Orme_.
Go--Get thee hence to Paternoster Row,
Thy patrons wave a duodecimo!
(Best form for _letters_ from a distant land,
It fits the pocket, nor fatigues the hand. )
Then go, once more the joyous work commence[14]
With stores of anecdote, and grains of sense,
Oh may Mammas relent, and Sires forgive!
And scribbling Sons grow dutiful and live!

Constantinople, _June_ 7^th^, 1810.
[First published, _Murray's Magazine_, 1887, vol. i. pp. 290, 291. ]

FOOTNOTES:

[8] [For John Cam Hobhouse (1786-1869), afterwards Lord Broughton de
Gyfford, see _Letters_, 1898, i. 163, _note_ i. ]

[9] [Fletcher was an indifferent traveller, and sighed for "a' the
comforts of the saut-market. " See Byron's letters to his mother,
November 12, 1809, June 28, 1810. --_Letters_, 1898, i. 256, 281. ]

[10] [Hobhouse's Miscellany (otherwise known as the _Miss-sell-any_) was
published in 1809, under the title of _Imitations and Translations from
The Ancient and Modern Classics_. Byron contributed nine original poems.
The volume was not a success. "It foundered . . . in the Gulph of
Lethe. "--Letter to H. Drury, July 17, 1811, _Letters_, 1898, i. 319. ]

[11] [The word "Sale" may have a double meaning. There may be an
allusion to George Sale, the Orientalist, and translator of the Koran. ]

[12] ["In Matthews I have lost my 'guide, philosopher, and
friend. '"--Letter to R. C. Dallas, September 7, 1811, _Letters_, 1898,
ii. 25. (For Charles Skinner Matthews, see _Letters_, 1898, i. 150,
_note_ 3. )]

[13] [Compare--
"In short, the maxim for the amorous tribe is
Horatian, 'Medio tu tutissimus ibis. '"
_Don Juan_, Canto V. stanza xvii. lines 8, 9.

The "doctrine" is Horatian, but the words occur in Ovid, _Metam. _, lib.
ii. line 137. --_Poetical Works_, 1902, vi. 273, _note_ 2. ]

[14] [Hobhouse's _Journey through Albania and other Provinces of
Turkey_, 4^to^, was published by James Cawthorn, in 1813. ]



TRANSLATION OF THE NURSE'S DOLE IN
THE _MEDEA_ OF EURIPIDES.

OH how I wish that an embargo
Had kept in port the good ship Argo!
Who, still unlaunched from Grecian docks,
Had never passed the Azure rocks;
But now I fear her trip will be a
Damn'd business for my Miss Medea, etc. , etc. [15]

_June_, 1810.
[First published, _Letters and Journals_, 1830, i. 227. ]

FOOTNOTES:

[15] ["I am just come from an expedition through the Bosphorus to
the Black Sea and the Cyanean Symplegades, up which last I scrambled
with as great risk as ever the Argonauts escaped in their hoy. You
remember the beginning of the nurse's dole in the _Medea_ [lines 1-7],
of which I beg you to take the following translation, done on the
summit;--[A 'damned business'] it very nearly was to me; for, had not
this sublime passage been in my head, I should never have dreamed of
ascending the said rocks, and bruising my carcass in honour of the
ancients. "--Letter to Henry Drury, June 17, 1810, _Letters_, 1898, i.
276.

Euripides, _Medea_, lines 1-7--
? ? ? ' ? ? ? ? ' ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? . ? . ? .
[Ei)/th' o)/phel' A)rgou~s me\ diapta/sthai ska/phos k. t. l. ]
]



MY EPITAPH. [16]

YOUTH, Nature, and relenting Jove,
To keep my lamp _in_ strongly strove;
But Romanelli was so stout,
He beat all three--and _blew_ it _out_.

_October_, 1810.
[First published, _Letters and Journals_, 1830, i. 240. ]

FOOTNOTES:

[16] ["The English Consul . . . forced a physician upon me, and in three
days vomited and glystered me to the last gasp. In this state I made my
epitaph--take it. "--Letter to Hodgson, October 3, 1810, _Letters_, 1898,
i. 298. ]



SUBSTITUTE FOR AN EPITAPH.

KIND Reader! take your choice to cry or laugh;
Here HAROLD lies--but where's his Epitaph?
If such you seek, try Westminster, and view
Ten thousand just as fit for him as you.

Athens, 1810.
[First published, _Lord Byron's Works_, 1832, ix. 4. ]



EPITAPH FOR JOSEPH BLACKET, LATE
POET AND SHOEMAKER. [17]

STRANGER! behold, interred together,
The _souls_ of learning and of leather.
Poor Joe is gone, but left his _all_:
You'll find his relics in a _stall_.
His works were neat, and often found
Well stitched, and with _morocco_ bound.
Tread lightly--where the bard is laid--
He cannot mend the shoe he made;
Yet is he happy in his hole,
With verse immortal as his _sole_.
But still to business he held fast,
And stuck to Phoebus to the _last_.
Then who shall say so good a fellow
Was only "leather and prunella? "
For character--he did not lack it;
And if he did, 'twere shame to "Black-it. "

Malta, _May_ 16, 1811.
[First published, _Lord Byron's Works_, 1832, ix. 10. ]

FOOTNOTES:

[17] [For Joseph Blacket (1786-1810), see _Letters_, 1898, i. 314,
_note_ 2; see, too, _Poetical Works_, 1898, i. 359, _note_ 1, and
441-443, _note_ 2. The _Epitaph_ is of doubtful authenticity. ]



ON MOORE'S LAST OPERATIC FARCE, OR FARCICAL OPERA. [18]

GOOD plays are scarce,
So Moore writes _farce_:
The poet's fame grows brittle[i]--
We knew before
That _Little_'s Moore,
But now't is Moore that's _little_.

_September_ 14, 1811.
[First published, _Letters and Journals_, 1830, i. 295 (_note_). ]

FOOTNOTES:

[i] _Is fame like his so brittle_? --[_MS_. ]

[18] ["On a leaf of one of his paper books I find an epigram, written at
this time, which, though not perhaps particularly good, I consider
myself bound to insert. "--Moore, _Life_, p. 137, _note_ 1. The reference
is to Moore's _M. P. ; or, The Blue Stocking_, which was played for the
first time at the Lyceum Theatre, September 9, 1811. For Moore's _nom de
plume_, "The late Thomas Little, Esq. ," compare Praed's _The Belle of
the Ball-Room_--

"If those bright lips had quoted Locke,
I might have thought they murmured Little. "]



[R. C. DALLAS. ][19]

YES! wisdom shines in all his mien,
Which would so captivate, I ween,
Wisdom's own goddess Pallas;
That she'd discard her fav'rite owl,
And take for pet a brother fowl,
Sagacious R. C. Dallas.

[First published, _Life, Writings, Opinions, etc. _, 1825, ii. 192. ]

FOOTNOTES:

[19] ["A person observing that Mr. Dallas looked very wise on a certain
occasion, his Lordship is said to have broke out into the following
impromptu. "--_Life, Writings, Times, and Opinions of Lord Byron_, 1825,
ii. 191. ]



AN ODE[20] TO THE FRAMERS OF THE FRAME BILL. [21]

1.

OH well done Lord E---- n! and better done R----r! [22]
Britannia must prosper with councils like yours;
Hawkesbury, Harrowby, help you to guide her,
Whose remedy only must _kill_ ere it cures:
Those villains; the Weavers, are all grown refractory,
Asking some succour for Charity's sake--
So hang them in clusters round each Manufactory,
That will at once put an end to _mistake_. [23]

2.

The rascals, perhaps, may betake them to robbing,
The dogs to be sure have got nothing to eat--
So if we can hang them for breaking a bobbin,
'T will save all the Government's money and meat:
Men are more easily made than machinery--
Stockings fetch better prices than lives--
Gibbets on Sherwood will heighten the scenery,
Shewing how Commerce, how Liberty thrives!

3.

Justice is now in pursuit of the wretches,
Grenadiers, Volunteers, Bow-street Police,
Twenty-two Regiments, a score of Jack Ketches,
Three of the Quorum and two of the Peace;
Some Lords, to be sure, would have summoned the Judges,
To take their opinion, but that they ne'er shall,
For LIVERPOOL such a concession begrudges,
So now they're condemned by _no Judges_ at all.

4.

Some folks for certain have thought it was shocking,
When Famine appeals and when Poverty groans,
That Life should be valued at less than a stocking,
And breaking of frames lead to breaking of bones.
If it should prove so, I trust, by this token,
(And who will refuse to partake in the hope? )
That the frames of the fools may be first to be _broken_,
Who, when asked for a _remedy_, sent down a _rope_.