Vain froward child ́of empire! say, Nor despicable state? Yes! one; the first the last-the best- Whom envy dared not hate, STANZAS FOR MUSIC.(3) I SPEAK not, I trace not, I breathe not thy name, And man shall not break it—whatever thou mayst. One sigh of thy sorrow, one look of thy love, ADDRESS INTENDED TO BE RECITED AT THE Who hath not glow'd above the page where fame (1) In one of Lord Byron's MS. Diaries, begun at Ravenna in the contrast, I think that one half of our dislike arises from bis May, 1821, we find the following:-"What shall I write?-an-having been heired by Tiberius-and one half of Julius Cæsar's other Journal? I think not. Any thing that comes uppermost. and call it My Dictionary. was Too great to keep or to resign.' fame, from his having had his empire consolidated by Augustus, -Suppose that there had been no Octavius, and Tiberius had 'jumped the life' between, and at once succeeded Julius?-And yet it is difficult to say whether hereditary right or popular choice produce the worser sovereigns. The Roman Consuls make a goodly show; but then they only reigned for a year, and were under a sort of personal obligation to distinguish themselves. It is still more difficult to say which form of government is the worst-all are so bad. As for democracy, it is the worst of the whole; for what is, in fact, democracy?—an aristocracy of blackguards.”—E. (2) On being reminded by a friend of his recent promise not to write any more for years-"There was," replied Lord Byron, "a mental reservation in my pact with the public, in behalf of anonymes; and, even had there not, the provocation was such as to make it physically impossible to pass over this epoch of triumphant tameness. 'T is a sad business; and, after all, I shall think higher of rhyme and reason, and very humbly of your heroic people, till-Elba becomes a volcano, and sends him out again. I can't think it is all over yet."-E and thus despising them all. As to the retention of his power by Augustus, the thing was already settled. If he had given it up-the commonwealth was gone-the republic was long past all resuscitation. Had Brutus and Cassius gained the battle of Philippi, it would not have restored the republic. Its days ended with the Gracchi; the rest was a mere struggle of parties. You might as well cure a consumption, or restore a broken egg, as revive a state so long a prey to every uppermost soldier, as Rome had long been. As for a despotism, if Augustus could have been sure that all his successors would have been like himself-I mean not as Octavius, but Augustus-or Napoleon could have insured the world that none of his successors would have been like himself-the ancient or modern world might have gone on, like the empire of China, in a state of lethargic prosperity. Suppose, for instance, that, instead of Tiberius and Caligula, Augustus had been immediately succeeded by Nerva, Trajan, the Antonines, or even by Titus and his father-what a | The reader will observe that the above stanzas were written difference in our estimate of himself:-So far from gaining by more than two years previously to his marriage.—E. (5) "Thou hast asked me for a song, and I enclose you an experiment, which has cost me something more than trouble, and is, therefore, less likely to be worth your taking any in your proposed setting. Now, if it be so, throw it into the fire without phrase." Lord B. to Mr. Moore, May 10, 1814.—E. While sad, she chants the solitary song, 'Tis Heaven-not man-must charm away the woe May, 1814. FRAGMENT OF AN EPISTLE TO THOMAS Here goes, for a swim on the stream of old Time, Walk'd out of his depth and was lost in a calm sea, man saw. The papers have told you, no doubt, of the fusses, (1) The fêtes, and the gapings to get at these Russes, 921 TO SARAH, COUNTESS OF JERSEY, ON THE PRINCE MEE. (2) WHEN the vain triumph of the imperial lord If thus, fair Jersey! our desiring gaze Of his Majesty's suite, up from coachman to het-A fount that only wants its living stream; man, And what dignity decks the flat face of the great man. I saw him, last week, at two balls and a party,— Lost to our eyes the present forms shall be, A night, with every star, save Dian's beam. That turn from tracing them to dream of thee; Than all he shall not force on our applause. And more on that recall'd resemblance pause, Long may thy yet meridian lustre shine, The Czar's look, lown, was much brighter and bris-The symmetry of youth-the grace of mien— With all that Virtue asks of homage thine : But then he is sadly deficient in whisker; [ker, The eye that gladdens—and the brow serene; And wore but a starless blue coat, and in kersey-The glossy darkness of that clustering hair, [fair! -mere breeches whisk'd round, in a waltz with the Which shades, yet shows that forehead more than Jersey, Each glance that wins us, and the life that throws * (1) "The newspapers will tell you all that is to be told of of miniature portraits of the ladies of his Court, the most ceemperors, etc. They have dined and supped, and shown their lebrated for their beauty. The Countess of Jersey's was necesflat faces in all thoroughfares and several saloons. Their uni-sarily among them, but some pique against that lady subsequently forms are very becoming, but rather short in the skirts; and their conversation is a catechism, for which, and the answers, I refer you to those who have heard it." Lord B. to Mr. Moore, June 14. (2) "George the Fourth, when Regent, formed a collection led to its being sent away from Carlton House. The affair at the subject of the condolatory address in question, from Lord the time made much noise in the fashionable world, and formed Byron's pen." Finden's Illustrations.-E. "The newspapers have got hold (I know not how) of the Con 922 BELSHAZZAR! from the banquet turn, Crown'd and anointed from on high; Go! dash the roses from thy brow Grey hairs but poorly wreathe with them; Oh! early in the balance weigh'd, ELEGIAC STANZAS ON THE DEATH OF SIR PETER PARKER, BART. (1) THERE is a tear for all that die, A mourner o'er the humblest grave; But nations swell the funeral cry, And triumph weeps above the brave. For them is Sorrow's purest sigh O'er Ocean's heaving bosom sent: In vain their bones unburied lie, All earth becomes their monument! Idolatory Address to Lady Jersey on the picture-abduction by our D-n A tomb is theirs on every page, An epitaph on every tongue: The present hours, the future age, For them bewail, to them belong. For them the voice of festal mirth Grows hush'd, their name the only sound; While deep Remembrance pours to Worth The goblet's tributary round. A theme to crowds that knew them not, Who would not share their glorious lot? And, gallant Parker! thus enshrined But there are breasts that bleed with thre Where one so dear, so dauntless, fell. Where shall they turn to mourn thee less? When cease to hear thy cherish'd name? Time cannot teach forgetfulness, While Grief's full heart is fed by Fame. Alas! for them, though not for thee, They cannot choose but weep the more; Deep for the dead the grief must be, Who ne'er gave cause to mourn before. October, 1814 STANZAS FOR MUSIC. THERE be none of Beauty's daughters Is thy sweet voice to me: So the spirit bows before thee, Like the swell of Summer's ocean. (1) This gallant officer fell in August, 1814, in his twenty Regent, and have published them-with my name, too, smack-ninth year, whilst commanding, on shore, a party belonging to without even asking leave, or inquiring whether or no! their impudence, and d-n every thing. It has put me out of patience, and so-I shall say no more about it " B. Letters. his ship, the Menelaus, and animating them, in storming the American camp near Baltimore. He was Lord Byron's first cousin; but they had never met since boyhood.-E. (1) These verses were given by Lord Byron to Mr. Power, of the Strand, who has published them, with very beautiful music by Sir John Stevenson. "I feel merry enough to send you a sad song. An event, the death of poor Dorset, and the recollection of what I once felt, and ought to have felt now, but could not-set me pondering, and finally into the train of thought which you have in your hands. I wrote them with a view to your setting them, and as a present to Power, if he would accept the words, and you did not think yourself degraded, for once in a way, by marrying them to music. I don't care what Power says to secure the property of the song, so that it is not complimentary to me, nor any thing about 'condescending' or 'noble author'-both 'vile phrases,' as Polonius says."-B. Letters. (2) "Do you remember the lines I sent you early last year? I don't wish (like Mr. Fitzgerald) to claim the character of vates,' in all its translations,-but were they not a little prophetic? I mean those beginning, 'There 's not a joy the world can give,' etc., on which I pique myself as being the truest, though the most melancholy, I ever wrote." B. Letters, March, 1816. (3) "I can forgive the rogue for utterly falsifying every line of mine Ode-which I take to be the last and uttermost stretch of human magnanimity. Do you remember the story of a certain ODE FROM THE FRENCH. WE do not curse thee, Waterloo! As o'er heaven shall then be bright'ning! abbé, who wrote a treatise on the Swedish constitution, and proved it indissoluble and eternal! Just as he had corrected the last sheet, news came that Gustavus the Third had destroyed this immortal government. Sir,' quoth the abbe, 'the King of Sweden may overthrow the constitution, but not my book!!' I think of the abbé, but not with him. Making every allowance for talent and most consummate daring, there is, after all, a good deal in luck or destiny. He might have been stopped by our frigates, or wrecked in the Gulf of Lyons, which is particularly tempestuous-or-a thousand things. But he is certainly Fortune's favourite." B. Letters, March, 1815. (4) See Rev. chap. viii. v. 7, etc. "The first angel sounded, and there followed hail and fire mingled with blood," etc. v. 8. "And the second angel sounded, and as it were a great mountain burning with fire was cast into the sea, and the third part of the sea became blood," etc. v. 10. "And the third angel sounded, and there fell a great star from heaven, burning as it were a lamp; and it fell upon the third part of the rivers, and upon the fountains of waters," v. 14. "And the name of the star is called Wormwood: and the third part of the waters became wormwood; and many men died of the waters, because they were made bitter." 924 The Chief has fallen, but not by you, Vanquishers of Waterloo! When the soldier citizen Sway'd not o'er his fellow-men— With that youthful chief competed? And thou, too, of the snow-white plume! (1) Once as the moon sways o'er the tide, So moved his heart upon our foes. Of the eagle's burning crest- (1) Poor dear Murat, what an end! His white plume used to be a rallying-point in battle, like Henry the Fourth's. He refused a confessor and a bandage: so would neither suffer his soul nor body to be bandaged." B. Letters. (2) Murat's remains are said to have been torn from the grave and burnt. (3) Talking of politics, as Caleb Quotem says, pray look at the conclusion of my Ode on Waterloo,' written in the year 1815, and in comparing it with the Duke de Berri's catastrophe, O'er glories gone the invaders march, With her heart in her voice; But, her hand on her sword, And who shall resist that proud union? FROM THE FRENCH. MUST thou go, my glorious Chief, (4) Sever'd from thy faithful few? Who can tell thy warrior's grief, Maddening o'er that long adieu? Woman's love, and friendship's zeal, Dear as both have been to meWhat are they to all I feel, With a soldier's faith for thee? Idol of the soldier's soul! First in fight, but mightiest now: Many could a world control : Thee alone no doom can bow. in 1820, tell me if I have not as good a right to the character of Vates, in both senses of the word, as Fitzgerald and Coleridge?— Crimson tears will follow yet; ' and have they not?" B. Letters, 1820. (4) "All wept, but particularly Savary, and a Polish officer who had been exalted from the ranks by Bonaparte. He clung to his master's knees; wrote a letter to Lord Keith, entreating permission to accompany him, even in the most menial capacity, which could not be admitted." |