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Note 8. Stauza lxii.

Eleven thousand maidenheads of bone,

The greatest number flesh hath ever known.

St Ursula and her eleven thousand virgins were still extant in 1816, and may be so yet as much as ever. Note 9. Stanza lxxxi.

Who butcher'd half the earth, and bullied t' other. India. America.

CANTO XI.

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praising the << drapery» of an «untochered» but «pretty virginities» (like Mrs Anne Page) of the then day, which has now been some years yesterday:—she assured me that the thing was common in London; and as her own thousands, and blooming looks, and rich simplicity of array, put any suspicion in her own case out of the question, I confess I gave some credit to the allegation. If necessary, authorities might be cited, in which case I could quote both « drapery» and the wearers. Let us hope, however, that it is now obsolete.

Note 5. Stanza lx.

'Tis strange the mind, that very fiery particle, Should let itself be snuff'd out by an article. Divine particulam auræ.»

CANTO XII.

Note 1. Stanza xix.

Who on a lark, with black-eyed Sal (his blowing),
So prime, so swell, so nutty, and so knowing?

The advance of science and of language has rendered it unnecessary to translate the above good and true English, spoken in its original purity by the select mobility and their patrons. The following is a stanza of a song which was very popular, at least in my early days:

On the high toby-spice flash the muzzle,
In spite of each gallows old scout;

If you at the spelken can't hustle,

You'll be bobbled in making a Clout.

Then your blowing will wax gallows haughty,
When she hears of your scaly mistake,
She'll surely turn snitch for the forty,

That her Jack may be regular weight.

If there be any gem man so ignorant as to require a traduction, I refer him to my old friend and corporeal pastor and master, John Jackson, Esq., Professor of pugilism; who, I trust, still retains the strength and symmetry of his model of a form, together with his good humour, and athletic as well as mental accomplishments.

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Note 1. Stanza xix.

Gives, with Greek truth, the good old Greek the lie. See MITFORD's Greece. «Græcia Verax.» is great pleasure consists in praising tyrants, abusing Plutarch, spelling oddly, and writing quaintly; and, what is strange after all, his is the best modern history of Greece in any language, and he is perhaps the best of all modern historians whatsoever. Ilaving named his sins, it is but fair to state his virtues-learning, labour, research, wrath, and partiality. I call the latter virtues in a writer, because they make him write in earnest.

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Note 8. Stanza evi.

The quaint, old, cruel coxcomb, in his gullet

Should have a book, and a small trout to pull it.

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vaulting ambition,» which in the field doth occasion some delay and execration in those who may be immediately behind the equestrian sceptic. « Sir, if you don't chuse to take the leap, let me»-was a phrase which generally sent the aspirant on again; and to good purpose: for though the horse and rider» might fall, they made a gap, through which, and over him and his steed, the field might follow.

Note 2. Stanza xlviii.

Go to the coffee-house, and take another.

In SWIFT'S or HORACE WALPOLE'S Letters I think it is mentioned that somebody regretting the loss of a friend, one, I go to the Saint James's Coffee-house, and take was answered by a universal Pylades: « When I lose another.»>

I recollect having heard an anecdote of the same kind. Sir W. D. was a great gamester. Coming in one day to the club of which he was a member, he was observed to look melancholy. << What is the matter, Sir William ?» cried Hare, of facetious memory. Ah!» replied Sir W.

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I have just lost poor Lady D.» the querist. « Lost! What atQuinze or Hazard?» was the consolatory rejoinder of

Note 3. Stanza lix.

And I refer you to wise Oxenstiern.

The famous Chancellor Oxenstiern said to his son, on the latter expressing his surprise upon the great effects arising from petty causes in the presumed mystery of politics: « You see by this, my son, with how little wisdom the kingdoms of the world are governed.»>

CANTO XV.

Note 1. Stanza xviii.

And thou, diviner still,

Whose lot it is by man to be mistaken.

It would have taught him humanity at least. This sentimental savage, whom it is a mode to quote (amongst the novelists) to show their sympathy for innocent sports and old songs, teaches how to sew up frogs, and break their legs by way of experiment, in addition to the art of angling, the cruellest, the coldest, and the stupidest of pretended sports. They may talk about the beauties of nature, but the angler merely thinks of his dish of fish; he has no leisure to take his eyes from off the streams, and a single bite is worth to him more than all the scenery around. Besides, some fish bite best on a rainy day. The whale, the shark, and the tunny fishery have somewhat of noble and perilous in them; even net-raigned his creed, but the use-or abuse-made of it. fishing, trawiing, etc., are more humaue and useful-but Mr Canning one day quoted Christianity to sanction angling!-No angler can be a good man. reply. And was Christ crucified, that black men might Negro Slavery, and Mr Wilberforce had little to say in be scourged? If so, he had better been born a Mulatto, to give both colours an equal chance of freedom, or at least salvation.

One of the best men I ever knew-as humane, delicate-minded, generous, and excellent a creature as any in the world-was an angler: true, he angled with painted flies, and would have been incapable of the extravagances of I. Walton.>>

The above addition was made by a friend in reading over the MS. Audi alteram partem»>-I leave it to counterbalance my own observation.

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I say, that I mean, by « diviner still,»> CHRIST. If ever
God was Man-or Man God--he was both.
As it is necessary in these times to avoid ambiguity,

"

Note 2. Stanza xxxv.

I never ar

When Rapp the Harmonist embargoed marriage
In his harmonious settlement.

This extraordinary and flourishing German colony in
America does not entirely exclude matrimony, as the
<< Shakers» do; but lays such restrictions
vent more than a certain quantum of births within a
it as pre-
upon
certain number of years; which births (as Mr Hulme
observes) generally arrive in a little flock like those of
a farmer's lambs, all within the same month perhaps. >>
These Harmonists (so called from the name of their set-
pious, and quiet people. See the various recent writers
tlement) are represented as a remarkably flourishing,

on America.

Note 3. Stanza xxxviii.

Nor canvass what so eminent a hand- meant.

Jacob Tonson, according to Mr Pope, was accustomed to call his writers «able pens»-«< persons of honour,» and especially « eminent hands. >> Vide Correspond-languages (it was some years before the peace, ere all

ence, etc., etc.

Note 4. Stanza Ixvi.

While great Lucullus' role triomphale muffles-
(There's fame)-young partridge fillets, deck'd with truffles.

A dish « à la Lucullus. This hero, who conquered the East, has left his more extended celebrity to the! transplantation of cherries (which he first brought into Europe) and the nomenclature of some very good dishes; -and I am not sure that (barring indigestion) he has not done more service to mankind by his cookery than by his conquests. A cherry-tree may weigh against a bloody laurel; besides, he has contrived to earn celebrity from both.

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Note 2. Stanza xliii.

For a spoil'd carpet-but the Attic Bee
Was much consoled by his own repartee.

I think that it was a carpet on which Diogenes trod, with-Thus I trample on the pride of Plato !»-«With greater pride,» as the other replied. But as carpets are meant to be trodden upon, my memory probably misgives me, and it might be a robe, or tapestry, or a table-cloth, or some other expensive and uncynical piece of furniture.

Note 3. Stanza xlv.

With Tu mi chamases from Portingale,
To soothe our ears, lest Italy should fail.

I re:nember that the mayoress of a provincial town,

somewhat surfeited with a similar display from foreign parts, did rather indecorously break through the applauses of an intelligent audience—intelligent, I mean, as to music,-for the words, besides being in recondite the world had travelled, and while I was a collegian)— | were sorely disguised by the performers;-this mayoress, I say, broke out with, «Rot your Italianos! for my part, I loves a simple ballat !» Rossini will go a good way to bring most people to the same opinion, some day. Who would imagine that he was to be the successor of Mozart? However, I state this with diffidence, and of much of Rossini's: but we may say, as the conas a liege and loyal admirer of Italian music in general, noisseur did of painting, in the Vicar of Wakefield, << that the picture would be better painted if the painter had taken more pains.»>

Note 4. Stanza lix.

For Gothic daring shown in English money.

« Ausu Romano, ære Veneto» is the inscription (and well inscribed in this instance) on the sea walls between the Adriatic and Venice. The walls were a republican work of the Venetians; the inscription, I believe, imperial, and inscribed by Napoleon.

Note 5. Stanza Ix.

Entying squires to fight against the churches." Though ye untie the winds and bid them fight Against the churches.-Macbeth.

Note 6. Stanza xevii.

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Attributed Poems.

[Although never publicly acknowledged by Lord Byron, the following have been generally attributed to his pen: and, aware of the interest attached to his most trifling efforts, the Publishers, without vouching for their authenticity, have not hesitated to add them to this edition.]

CHILDISH RECOLLECTIONS.

ODE

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WHEN slow Disease, with all her host of pains,
Chills the warm tide which flows along the veins;
When Health, affrighted, spreads her rosy wing,
And flies with every changing gale of spring;
Not to the aching frame alone coufined,
Cayielding pangs assail the drooping mind.
What grisly forms, the spectre train of woe,
Bids shuddering Nature shrink beneath the blow;
With Resignation wage relentless strife,
While Hope retires appall'd, and clings to life!
Yet less the pang, when, through the tedious hour,
Remembrance sheds around her genial power,
Calls back the vanish'd days to rapture given,
When love was bliss, and beauty form'd our heaven:
Or, dear to youth, portrays each childish scene,
Those fairy bowers, where all in turn have been.
As when, through clouds that pour the summer storm,
The orb of day unveils his distant form,
Gilds with faint beams the crystal dews of rain,
And dimly twinkles o'er the watery plain;
Thus, while the future dark and cheerless gleams,
The sun of memory, glowing through my dreams,
Though sunk the radiance of his former blaze,
To scenes far distant points his paler rays,
Still rules my senses with unbounded sway,
The past confounding with the present day.

Oft does my heart indulge the rising thought, Which still recurs, unlook d for and unsought; My soul to Fancy's fond suggestion yields, And roams romantic o'er her airy fields; Scenes of my youth developed crowd to view, To which I long have paid a last adieu!

LORD BYRON TO HIS LADY,

ON THE SIXTH ANNIVERSARY OF THEIR MARRIAGE.

How strangely time his course has run,
Since first I pair'd with you;

Six years ago we made but ONE,
Now five have made us two.

ΤΟ

THE ISLAND OF ST HELENA.

PEACE to thee, isle of the ocean!

Hail to thy breezes and billows!
Where, rolling its tides in perpetual devotion,
The white wave its plumy surf pillows!
Rich shall the chaplet be history shall weave thee!
Whose undying verdure shall bloom on thy brow,
When nations, that now in obscurity leave thee,

To the wand of oblivion alternately bow!
Unchanged in thy glory-unstain'd in thy fame-
The homage of ages shall hallow thy name!

Hail to the chief who reposes

On thee the rich weight of his glory!
When, fill'd to its limit, life's chronicle closes,
His deeds shall be sacred in story!
His prowess shall rank with the first of all ages,
And monarchs hereafter shall bow to his worth-
The songs of the poets-the lessons of sages-

Shall hold him the wonder and grace of the earth. The meteors of history before thee shall fallEclipsed by thy splendour-thou meteor of Gaul!

Hygeian breezes shall fan thee-
Island of glory resplendent!

Pilgrims from nations far distant shall man thee-
Tribes, as thy waves independent!

On thy far gleaming strand the wanderer shall stay him
To snatch a brief glance at a spot so renown'd-
Each turf, and each stone, and cach cliff, shall delay him
Where the step of thy exile hath hallow'd thy ground.
From him shalt thou borrow a lustre divine;
The wane of his sun was the rising of thine!

Whose were the hands that enslaved him?
Hands which had weakly withstood him-
Nations which, while they had oftentimes braved

him,

Never till now had subdued him!

Monarchs-who oft to his clemency stooping,
Received back their crowns from the plunder of war-
The vanquisher vanquish'd-the eagle now drooping-
Would quench with their sternness the ray of his star!
But cloth'd in new splendour thy glory appears-
And rules the ascendant-the planet of years!

Pure be the heath of thy mountains!
Rich be the green of thy pastures!

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