†The Latin of the schools is of the canine species, and not very intelligible. In the private volume, "Every Cambridge man will assent to this. The Latin of the schools is almost unintelligible." Oh! had they sung in notes like these, Inspired by stratagem or fear, They might have set their hearts at ease, The devil a soul had stay'd to hear. But if I scribble longer now, The deuce a soul will stay to read; My pen is blunt, my ink is low; 'Tis almost time to stop indeed. Therefore, farewell, old GRANTA's spires! No more thy theme my muse inspires: 1806. ANSWER TO SOME ELEGANT VERSES SENT BY A FRIEND TO THE AUTHOR, COMPLAINING THAT ONE OF HIS DESCRIPTIONS WAS RATHER TOO WARMLY DRAWN.† "But if any old lady, knight, priest, or physician, CANDOUR compels me, BECHER! to commend • If I scribble longer. In the private volume, If I write much longer. †These lines were printed in the private volume, and in the first edition The discovery of Pythagoras, that the square of the hypothenuse is equal of Hours of Idleness, but afterwards omitted. to the squares of the other two sides of a right-angled triangle. § On a saint's day, the students wear surplices in chapel. Imprudent. In the private volume, unworthy. Wild. Private volume, sole. No net to snare her willing heart is spread; November 26, 1806. Still were you happy in death's earthy slumber, You rest with your clan in the caves of Braemar ;* The pibrocht resounds to the piper's loud number, Your deeds on the echoes of dark Loch na Garr. Years have roll'd on, Loch na Garr, since I left you, Yet still are you dearer than Albion's plain. LACHIN Y. GAIR.* Lachin y. Gair, or, as it is pronounced in the Erse, Loch na Garr, towers proudly preeminent in the Northern Highlands, near Invercauld. One of our modern tourists mentions it as the highest mountain, perhaps, in Great Britain. Be this as it may, it is certainly one of the most sublime and picturesque among our "Caledonian Alps." Its appearance is of a dusky hue, but the summit is the seat of eternal snows. Near Lachin y. Gair I spent some of the early part of my life, the recollection of which has given birth to the following stanzas. AWAY, ye gay landscapes, ye gardens of roses! Round their white summits though elements war; Though cataracts foam 'stead of smooth-flowing fountains, I sigh for the valley of dark Loch na Garr. Ah! where my young footsteps in infancy wander'd; My cap was the bonnet, my cloak was the plaid; † On chieftains long perish'd my memory ponder'd, As daily I strode through the pine-covered glade: I sought not my home till the day's dying glory Gave place to the rays of the bright polar star; For fancy was cheer'd by traditional story, Disclosed by the natives of dark Loch na Garr. "Shades of the dead! have I not heard your voices| Rise on the night-rolling breath of the gale?" Surely the soul of the hero rejoices, And rides on the wind o'er his own Highland vale. Round Loch na Garr while the stormy mist gathers, Winter presides in his cold icy car: Clouds there encircle the forms of my fathers; They dwell in the tempests of dark Loch na Garr. "Ill-starr'd, though brave, did no visions fore boding, Tell you that fate had forsaken your cause?" Ah! were you destined to die at Culloden,§ Victory crown'd not your fall with applause : • First published in Hours of Idleness. This word is erroneously pronounced plad; the proper pronunciation (according to the Scotch) is known by the orthography. I allude here to my maternal ancestors "the Gordons," many of whom fought for the unfortunate Prince Charles, better known by the name of the Pretender. This branch was nearly allied by blood, as well as attachment, to the Stuarts. George, the second earl of Huntley, married the Princess Annabella Stuart, daughter of James the First of Scotland. By her he left four sons: the third, Sir William Gordon, I have the honor to claim as one of my progenitors. Whether any perished in the battle of Culloden, 1 am not certain; but, as many fell in the Insurrection, I have used the name of the principal action, pars pro toto." TO ROMANCE.I PARENT of golden dreams, Romance! But leave thy realms for those of Truth. And yet 'tis hard to quit the dreams Whose eyes through rays immortal roll And even woman's smiles are true. And must we own thee but a name, And from thy hall of clouds descend? A Pylades § in every friend? To mingling bands of fairy elves? And friends have feeling for-themselves? With shame I own I've felt thy sway; Repentant, now thy reign is o'er: No more thy precepts I obey, No more on fancied pinions soar. Fond fool! to love a sparkling eye, And think that eye to truth was dear; To trust a passing wanton's sigh, And melt beneath a wanton's tear. Romance! disgusted with deceit, Far from thy motley court I fly, Where Affectation holds her seat, And sickly Sensibility; A tract of the Highlands so called. There is also a Castle of Braemar. ↑ The bagpipe. First published in the Hours of Idleness. § It is hardly necessary to add, that Pylades was the companion of Orestes, and a partner in one of those friendships which, with those of Achilles and Patroclus, Nisus and Euryalus, Damon and Pythias, have been handed down to posterity as remarkable instances of attachments, which in all proba bility never existed beyond the imagination of the poet, or the page of as historian or modern novelist. • As one poem on this subject is printed in the beginning, the author had, riginally, no intention of inserting the following: it is now added at the particular request of some friends. See page 413 of this edition. The motto was not given in the private volume. Henry 11. founded Newstead soon after the murder of Thomas à Becket. § This word is used by Walter Scott in his poem, "The Wild Huntsman," ynenymous with vassal. The red cross was the badge of the crusader. But not from thee, dark pile! departs the chief; Yes, in thy gloomy cells and shades profound A monarch bade thee from that wild arise, [prowl; Where now the grass exhales a murky dew, The humid pall of life-extinguish'd clay, In sainted fame the sacred fathers grew, Nor raised their pious voices but to pray. Where now the bats their wavering wings extend, Years roll on years; to ages, ages yield; One holy HENRY reared the Gothic walls, Vain is each threat or supplicating prayer; Hark how the hall, resounding to the strain, Of changing sentinels the distant hum, An abbey once, a regal fortress | now, War's dread machines o'erhang thy threat'ning brow, Ah vain defence! the hostile traitor's siege, Though oft repulsed by guile, o'ercomes the brave, His thronging foes oppress the faithful liege, Rebellion's reeking standards o'er him wave. As "gloaming," the Scottish word for twilight, is far more poetical, and has been recommended by many eminent literary men, particularly by Dr. Moore in his Letters to Burns, I have ventured to use it on account of ita harmony. ↑ Gloaming spreads her waning shade. In the private volume, Twilight winds a waning shade. The priory was dedicated to the Virgin. At the dissolution of the monasteries, Henry VIII. bestowed Newstead Abbey on Sir John Byron. Newstead sustained a considerable siege in the war between Charien 1. and his parliament. Not unavenged the raging baron yields; The blood of traitors smears the purple plain : Unconquer'd still, his falchion there he wields, And days of glory yet for him remain. Still in that hour the warrior wish'd to strew Self-gather'd laurels on a self-sought grave; But Charles' protecting genius hither flew, The monarch's friend, the monarch's hope, to save. Trembling, she snatch'd him from th' unequal From thee, poor pile! to lawless plunder given, There many a pale and ruthless robber's corse, Graves, long with rank and sighing weeds o'erspread, Raked from repose in search for buried gold. Hush'd is the harp, unstrung the warlike lyre, At length, the sated murderers, gorged with prey, And sable Horror § guards the massy door. Here Desolation holds her dreary court; What satellites declare her dismal reign! Shrieking their dirge, ill-omen'd birds resort, To flit their vigils in the hoary fane. Soon a new morn's restoring beams dispel And Nature triumphs as the tyrant dies. With storms she welcomes his expiring groans; Lord Byron and his brother: Sir Willlam held high command in the royal army; the former was general-in-chief in Ireland, lieutenant of the The regal ruler now resumes the helm, He guides through gentle seas the prow of state Hope cheers, with wonted smiles, the peaceful realm, And heals the bleeding wounds of wearied hate. The gloomy tenants, Newstead! of thy cells, Vassals, within thy hospitable pale, Loudly carousing, bless their lord's return; A thousand songs on tuneful echo float, Beneath their coursers' hoofs the valleys shake; Ah happy days! too happy to endure! Their joys were many, as their cares were few. From these descending, sons to sires succeed; Another crowd pursue the panting hart. Newstead! what saddening change of scene is thine! Now holds thy mouldering turrets in his sway. Deserted now, he scans thy gray worn trowers; Yet are his tears no emblem of regret; Yet he prefers thee to the gilded domes Or gewgaw grottos of the vainly great; Tower, and governor to James, Duke of York, afterwards the unhappy Haply thy sun, emerging, yet may shine, ↑ Lucius Cary, Lord Viscount Falkland, the most accomplished man of his age, was killed at the battle of Newberry, charging in the ranks of Lord Byron's regiment of cavalry. Martial. The private volume reads laurell'd. § Sable Horror. In the private volume, Horror stalking. Thee to irradiate with meridian ray; • Charles II. This is an historical fact. A violent tempest occurred immediately subsequent to the death or interment of Cromwell, which occasioned many disputes Hours splendid, &c. In the private volume and the first edition ● between his partisans and the cavaliers: both interpreted the circumstance Hos of Idleness, the stanza ended with the following lines: Into divine interposition; but whether as approbation or condemnation, we eave to the casuist of that age to decide. I have made such use of the occurrence as suited the subject of my poern. ON A CHANGE OF MASTERS AT A GREAT | When Health, affirighted, spreads her rosy wing, PUBLIC SCHOOL.* WHERE are those honors, Ida! once your own, July, 1805. CHILDISH RECOLLECTIONS.§ "I cannot but remember such things were, And were most dear to me." WHEN Slow Disease, with all her host of pains. Chills the warm tide which flows along the veins; • These lines were only printed in the private volume. Lord Byron most ncerely regretted having written this and the subsequent attack on Dr. Butler, contained in the poem called Childish Recollections. A reconciliation took place between them before Lord Byron's first departure for Greece; and Mr. Moore informs us that, "not content with this private atonement to Dr. Butler, it was Lord Byron's intention, had he published another edition of the Hours of Idleness, to substitute for the offensive verses against that gentleman, a frank avowal of the wrong he had been guilty of, in giving vent to them." -Life of Byron, vol. i. p. 188. † Probus, Dr. Drury. Pomposus, Dr. Butler. $ This poem was published in the private volume; and, with many additions and corrections, in the first editions of Hours of Idleness; but was afterwards suppressed. In the private volume the poem opened with the following lines: "Hence! thou unvarying song of varied loves, Which youth commends, maturer age reproves; Alas! in vain I check the maddening thought: It still recurs, unlook'd for and unsought: My soul to Farcy's," &c., &c., &c., as at line twenty-nine. And flies with every changing gale of spring; storm The orb of day unveils his distant form, Oft does my heart indulge the rising thought, IDA! bless'd spot, where Science holds her reign, I bless the former, and forgive the last. • The next fifty-six lines, to "Here first remember'd be the joyous band," were added in the first edition of Hours of Idleness. |