Chapter 3

_Oh Boy! for ever loved, for ever dear! What fruitless tears have wash'd thy honour'd bier; What sighs re-echoed to thy parting breath, Whilst thou wert struggling in the pangs of death. Could tears have turn'd the tyrant in his course, Could sighs have checked his dart's relentless force; [iii] Could youth and virtue claim a short delay, Or beauty charm the spectre from his prey, Thou still had'st liv'd to bless my aching sight, Thy comrade's honour, and thy friend's delight: Though low thy lot since in a cottage born, No titles did thy humble name adorn, To me, far dearer, was thy artless love, Than all the joys, wealth, fame, and friends could prove. For thee alone I liv'd, or wish'd to live, (Oh God! if impious, this rash word forgive,) Heart-broken now, I wait an equal doom, Content to join thee in thy turf-clad tomb; Where this frail form compos'd in endless rest, I'll make my last, cold, pillow on thy breast; That breast where oft in life, I've laid my head, Will yet receive me mouldering with the dead; This life resign'd, without one parting sigh, Together in one bed of earth we'll lie! Together share the fate to mortals given, Together mix our dust, and hope for Heaven._

HARROW, 1803.--[4to. _P. on V. Occasions._]]

[Footnote 1: The heading which appears in the Quarto and _P. on V. Occasions_ was subsequently changed to "Epitaph on a Friend." The motto was prefixed in 'Hours of Idleness'. The epigram which Bergk leaves under Plato's name was translated by Shelley ('Poems', 1895, iii. 361)--

"Thou wert the morning star Among the living, Ere thy fair light had fled; Now having died, thou art as Hesperus, giving New splendour to the dead."

There is an echo of the Greek distich in Byron's exquisite line, "The Morning-Star of Memory."

The words, "Southwell, March 17," are added, in a lady's hand, on p. 9 of the annotated copy of P. 'on' V. 'Occasions' in the British Museum. The conjecture that the "'beloved' friend," who is of humble origin, is identical with "E----" of the verses on p. 4, remains uncertain.]

[Footnote ii: _have bath'd thy honoured bier._

[_P. on V. Occasions._] ]

[Footnote iii: _Could tears retard,_ [_P. on V. Occasions._] _Could sighs avert._ [_P. on V. Occasions._] ]

ADRIAN'S ADDRESS TO HIS SOUL WHEN DYING.

Animula! vagula, Blandula, Hospes, comesque corporis, Quæ nunc abibis in Loca-- Pallidula, rigida, nudula, Nec, ut soles, dabis Jocos?

TRANSLATION.

Ah! gentle, fleeting, wav'ring Sprite, Friend and associate of this clay! To what unknown region borne, Wilt thou, now, wing thy distant flight? No more with wonted humour gay, But pallid, cheerless, and forlorn.

1806.

A FRAGMENT. [1]

When, to their airy hall, my Fathers' voice Shall call my spirit, joyful in their choice; When, pois'd upon the gale, my form shall ride, Or, dark in mist, descend the mountain's side; Oh! may my shade behold no sculptur'd urns, To mark the spot where earth to earth returns! No lengthen'd scroll, no praise-encumber'd stone; [i] My _epitaph_ shall be my name alone: [2] If _that_ with honour fail to crown my clay, [ii] Oh! may no other fame my deeds repay! _That_, only _that_, shall single out the spot; By that remember'd, or with that forgot. [iii]

1803.

[Footnote 1: There is no heading in the Quarto.]

[Footnote 2: In his will, drawn up in 1811, Byron gave directions that "no inscription, save his name and age, should be written on his tomb." June, 1819, he wrote to Murray: "Some of the epitaphs at the Certosa cemetery, at Ferrara, pleased me more than the more splendid monuments at Bologna; for instance, 'Martini Luigi Implora pace.' Can anything be more full of pathos? I hope whoever may survive me will see those two words, and no more, put over me."--'Life', pp. 131, 398.]

[Footnote: i.

'No lengthen'd scroll of virtue and renown.'

[4to. P. on V. Occ.]]

[Footnote: ii.

'If that with honour fails,'

[4to]]

[Footnote: iii.

'But that remember'd, or fore'er forgot'.

[4to. 'P. on V. Occasions'.]]

TO CAROLINE. [1]

1.

Oh! when shall the grave hide for ever my sorrow? Oh! when shall my soul wing her flight from this clay? The present is hell! and the coming to-morrow But brings, with new torture, the curse of to-day.

2.

From my eye flows no tear, from my lips flow no curses, [i] I blast not the fiends who have hurl'd me from bliss; For poor is the soul which, bewailing, rehearses Its querulous grief, when in anguish like this--

3.

Was my eye, 'stead of tears, with red fury flakes bright'ning, Would my lips breathe a flame which no stream could assuage, On our foes should my glance launch in vengeance its lightning, With transport my tongue give a loose to its rage.

4.

But now tears and curses, alike unavailing, Would add to the souls of our tyrants delight; Could they view us our sad separation bewailing, Their merciless hearts would rejoice at the sight.

5.

Yet, still, though we bend with a feign'd resignation, Life beams not for us with one ray that can cheer; Love and Hope upon earth bring no more consolation, In the grave is our hope, for in life is our fear.

6.

Oh! when, my ador'd, in the tomb will they place me, Since, in life, love and friendship for ever are fled? If again in the mansion of death I embrace thee, Perhaps they will leave unmolested--the dead.

1805.

[Footnote 1: [To------.--[4to].]]

[Footnote i: 'fall no curses'.--[4to. 'P. on V. Occasions'.]]

TO CAROLINE. [1]

1.

When I hear you express an affection so warm, Ne'er think, my belov'd, that I do not believe; For your lip would the soul of suspicion disarm, And your eye beams a ray which can never deceive.

2.

Yet still, this fond bosom regrets, while adoring, That love, like the leaf, must fall into the sear, That Age will come on, when Remembrance, deploring, Contemplates the scenes of her youth, with a tear;

3.

That the time must arrive, when, no longer retaining Their auburn, those locks must wave thin to the breeze, When a few silver hairs of those tresses remaining, Prove nature a prey to decay and disease.

4.

Tis this, my belov'd, which spreads gloom o'er my features, Though I ne'er shall presume to arraign the decree Which God has proclaim'd as the fate of his creatures, In the death which one day will deprive you of me. [i]

5.

Mistake not, sweet sceptic, the cause of emotion, [ii] No doubt can the mind of your lover invade; He worships each look with such faithful devotion, A smile can enchant, or a tear can dissuade.

6.

But as death, my belov'd, soon or late shall o'ertake us, And our breasts, which alive with such sympathy glow, Will sleep in the grave, till the blast shall awake us, When calling the dead, in Earth's bosom laid low.

7.

Oh! then let us drain, while we may, draughts of pleasure, Which from passion, like ours, must unceasingly flow; [iii] Let us pass round the cup of Love's bliss in full measure, And quaff the contents as our nectar below.

1805.

[Footnote 1: [There is no heading in the Quarto.]]

[Footnote i: _will deprive me of thee_.--[4to]]

[Footnote ii:

_No jargon of priests o'er our union was mutter'd, To rivet the fetters of husband and wife; By our lips, by our hearts, were our vows alone utter'd, To perform them, in full, would ask more than a life_.--[4to]]

[Footnote iii: _will unceasingly flow_.--[4to]]

ON A DISTANT VIEW OF THE VILLAGE AND SCHOOL OF HARROW ON THE HILL, 1806.

Oh! mihi præteritos referat si Jupiter annos.[1]

VIRGIL.

1.

Ye scenes of my childhood, whose lov'd recollection Embitters the present, compar'd with the past; Where science first dawn'd on the powers of reflection, And friendships were form'd, too romantic to last; [2]

2.

Where fancy, yet, joys to retrace the resemblance Of comrades, in friendship and mischief allied; [3] How welcome to me your ne'er fading remembrance, [i] Which rests in the bosom, though hope is deny'd!

3.

Again I revisit the hills where we sported, The streams where we swam, and the fields where we fought; [4] The school where, loud warn'd by the bell, we resorted, To pore o'er the precepts by Pedagogues taught.

4.

Again I behold where for hours I have ponder'd, As reclining, at eve, on yon tombstone [5] I lay; Or round the steep brow of the churchyard I wander'd, To catch the last gleam of the sun's setting ray.

5.

I once more view the room, with spectators surrounded, Where, as Zanga, [6] I trod on Alonzo o'erthrown; While, to swell my young pride, such applauses resounded, I fancied that Mossop [7] himself was outshone.

6.

Or, as Lear, I pour'd forth the deep imprecation, By my daughters, of kingdom and reason depriv'd; Till, fir'd by loud plaudits and self-adulation, I regarded myself as a _Garrick_ reviv'd. [ii]

7.

Ye dreams of my boyhood, how much I regret you! Unfaded your memory dwells in my breast; [iii] Though sad and deserted, I ne'er can forget you: Your pleasures may still be in fancy possest.

8.

To Ida full oft may remembrance restore me, [iv] While Fate shall the shades of the future unroll! Since Darkness o'ershadows the prospect before me, More dear is the beam of the past to my soul!

9.

But if, through the course of the years which await me, Some new scene of pleasure should open to view, I will say, while with rapture the thought shall elate me, "Oh! such were the days which my infancy knew." [8]

1806.

[Footnote 1: The motto was prefixed in 'Hours of Idleness'.]

[Footnote 2:

"My school-friendships were with me _passions_ (for I was always violent), but I do not know that there is one which has endured (to be sure, some have been cut short by death) till now."

'Diary', 1821; 'Life', p. 21.]

[Footnote 3: Byron was at first placed in the house of Mr. Henry Drury, but in 1803 was removed to that of Mr. Evans.

"The reason why Lord Byron wishes for the change, arises from the repeated complaints of Mr. Henry Drury respecting his inattention to business, and his propensity to make others laugh and disregard their employment as much as himself."

Dr. Joseph Drury to Mr. John Hanson.]

[Footnote 4:

"At Harrow I fought my way very fairly. I think I lost but one battle out of seven."

'Diary', 1821; 'Life', p. 21.]

[Footnote 5: A tomb in the churchyard at Harrow was so well known to be his favourite resting-place, that the boys called it "Byron's Tomb:" and here, they say, he used to sit for hours, wrapt up in thought.--'Life', p. 26.]

[Footnote 6: For the display of his declamatory powers, on the speech-days, he selected always the most vehement passages; such as the speech of Zanga over the body of Alonzo, and Lear's address to the storm.--'Life', p. 20, 'note'; and 'post', p. 103, 'var'. i.]

[Footnote 7: Henry Mossop (1729-1773), a contemporary of Garrick, famous for his performance of "Zanga" in Young's tragedy of 'The Revenge'.]

[Footnote 8: Stanzas 8 and 9 first appeared in 'Hours of Idleness'.]

[Footnote i: 'How welcome once more'.

[4to]]

[Footnote ii:

'I consider'd myself'.

[4to]]

[Footnote iii:

'As your memory beams through this agonized breast; Thus sad and deserted, I n'er can forget you, Though this heart throbs to bursting by anguish possest.

[4to]

Your memory beams through this agonized breast.--

[P. on V. Occasions.']

[Footnote iv:

'I thought this poor brain, fever'd even to madness, Of tears as of reason for ever was drain'd; But the drops which now flow down _this_ bosom of sadness, Convince me the springs have some moisture retain'd'.

'Sweet scenes of my childhood! your blest recollection, Has wrung from these eyelids, to weeping long dead, In torrents, the tears of my warmest affection, The last and the fondest, I ever shall shed'.

[4to. 'P. on V. Occasions'.]

THOUGHTS SUGGESTED BY A COLLEGE EXAMINATION.

High in the midst, surrounded by his peers, Magnus [1] his ample front sublime uprears: [i] Plac'd on his chair of state, he seems a God, While Sophs [2] and Freshmen tremble at his nod; As all around sit wrapt in speechless gloom, [ii] _His_ voice, in thunder, shakes the sounding dome; Denouncing dire reproach to luckless fools, Unskill'd to plod in mathematic rules.

Happy the youth! in Euclid's axioms tried, Though little vers'd in any art beside; 10 Who, scarcely skill'd an English line to pen, [iii] Scans Attic metres with a critic's ken.

What! though he knows not how his fathers bled, When civil discord pil'd the fields with dead, When Edward bade his conquering bands advance, Or Henry trampled on the crest of France: Though marvelling at the name of _Magna Charta_, Yet well he recollects the _laws_ of _Sparta_; Can tell, what edicts sage _Lycurgus_ made, While _Blackstone's_ on the _shelf_, _neglected_ laid; 20 Of _Grecian dramas_ vaunts the deathless fame, Of _Avon's bard_, rememb'ring scarce the name.

Such is the youth whose scientific pate Class-honours, medals, fellowships, await; Or even, perhaps, the _declamation_ prize, If to such glorious height, he lifts his eyes. But lo! no _common_ orator can hope The envied silver cup within his scope: Not that our _heads_ much eloquence require, Th' ATHENIAN'S [3] glowing style, or TULLY'S fire. 30 A _manner_ clear or warm is useless, since [iv] We do not try by _speaking_ to _convince_; Be other _orators_ of pleasing _proud_,-- We speak to _please_ ourselves, not _move_ the crowd: Our gravity prefers the _muttering_ tone, A proper mixture of the _squeak_ and _groan_: No borrow'd _grace_ of _action_ must be seen, The slightest motion would displease the _Dean_; Whilst every staring Graduate would prate, Against what--_he_ could never imitate. 40

The man, who hopes t' obtain the promis'd cup, Must in one _posture_ stand, and _ne'er look up_; Nor _stop_, but rattle over _every_ word-- No matter _what_, so it can _not_ be heard: Thus let him hurry on, nor think to rest: Who speaks the _fastest's_ sure to speak the _best_; Who utters most within the shortest space, May, safely, hope to win the _wordy race_.

The Sons of _Science_ these, who, thus repaid, Linger in ease in Granta's sluggish shade; 50 Where on Cam's sedgy banks, supine, they lie, Unknown, unhonour'd live--unwept for die: Dull as the pictures, which adorn their halls, They think all learning fix'd within their walls: In manners rude, in foolish forms precise, All modern arts affecting to despise; Yet prizing _Bentley's, Brunck's_, or _Porson's_ [4] note, [v] More than the _verse on which the critic wrote_: Vain as their honours, heavy as their Ale, [5] Sad as their wit, and tedious as their tale; 60 To friendship dead, though not untaught to feel, When Self and Church demand a Bigot zeal. With eager haste they court the lord of power, [vi] (Whether 'tis PITT or PETTY [6] rules the hour;) To _him_, with suppliant smiles, they bend the head, While distant mitres to their eyes are spread; [vii] But should a storm o'erwhelm him with disgrace, They'd fly to seek the next, who fill'd his place. _Such_ are the men who learning's treasures guard! _Such_ is their _practice_, such is their _reward_! 70 This _much_, at least, we may presume to say-- The premium can't exceed the _price_ they _pay_. [viii]

1806.

[Footnote 1:

No reflection is here intended against the person mentioned under the name of Magnus. He is merely represented as performing an unavoidable function of his office. Indeed, such an attempt could only recoil upon myself; as that gentleman is now as much distinguished by his eloquence, and the dignified propriety with which he fills his situation, as he was in his younger days for wit and conviviality.

[Dr. William Lort Mansel (1753-1820) was, in 1798, appointed Master of Trinity College, by Pitt. He obtained the bishopric of Bristol, through the influence of his pupil, Spencer Perceval, in 1808. He died in 1820.]

[Footnote 2: Undergraduates of the second and third year.]

[Footnote 3: Demosthenes.]

[Footnote 4: The present Greek professor at Trinity College, Cambridge; a man whose powers of mind and writings may, perhaps, justify their preference. [Richard Porson (1759-1808). For Byron's description of him, see letter to Murray, of February 20, 1818. Byron says ('Diary', December 17, 18, 1813) that he wrote the 'Devil's Drive' in imitation of Porson's 'Devil's Walk'. This was a common misapprehension at the time. The 'Devil's Thoughts' was the joint composition of Coleridge and Southey, but it was generally attributed to Porson, who took no trouble to disclaim it. It was originally published in the 'Morning Post', Sept. 6, 1799, and Stuart, the editor, said that it raised the circulation of the paper for several days after. (See Coleridge's Poems (1893), pp. 147, 621.)]

[Footnote 5: Lines 59-62 are not in the Quarto. They first appeared in 'Poems Original and Translated']

[Footnote 6: Since this was written, Lord Henry Petty has lost his place, and subsequently (I had almost said consequently) the honour of representing the University. A fact so glaring requires no comment. (Lord Henry Petty, M.P. for the University of Cambridge, was Chancellor of the Exchequer in 1805; but in 1807 he lost his seat. In 1809 he succeeded his brother as Marquis of Lansdowne. He died in 1863.)]

[Footnote i: 'M--us--l.--'[4to]]

[Footnote ii: 'Whilst all around.'--[4to]]

[Footnote iii:

'Who with scarse sense to pen an English letter, Yet with precision scans an Attis metre.'

[4to]]

[Footnote iv:

'The manner of the speech is nothing, since',

[4to. 'P, on V. Occasions'.]]

[Footnote v:

'Celebrated critics'.

[4to. 'Three first Editions'.]]

[Footnote vi:

'They court the tool of power'.

[4to. 'P. on V. Occasions.']]

[Footnote vii:

'While mitres, prebends'.

[4to. 'P. on V. Occasions.']]

[Footnote viii:

The 'reward's' scarce equal to the 'price' they pay.

[4to]]

TO MARY,

ON RECEIVING HER PICTURE. [1]

1.

This faint resemblance of thy charms, (Though strong as mortal art could give,) My constant heart of fear disarms, Revives my hopes, and bids me live.

2.

Here, I can trace the locks of gold Which round thy snowy forehead wave; The cheeks which sprung from Beauty's mould, The lips, which made me 'Beauty's' slave.

3.

Here I can trace--ah, no! that eye, Whose azure floats in liquid fire, Must all the painter's art defy, And bid him from the task retire.

4.

Here, I behold its beauteous hue; But where's the beam so sweetly straying, [i.] Which gave a lustre to its blue, Like Luna o'er the ocean playing?

5.

Sweet copy! far more dear to me, Lifeless, unfeeling as thou art, Than all the living forms could be, Save her who plac'd thee next my heart.

6.

She plac'd it, sad, with needless fear, Lest time might shake my wavering soul, Unconscious that her image there Held every sense in fast controul.

7.

Thro' hours, thro' years, thro' time,'twill cheer-- My hope, in gloomy moments, raise; In life's last conflict 'twill appear, And meet my fond, expiring gaze.

[Footnote 1: This "Mary" is not to be confounded with the heiress of Annesley, or "Mary" of Aberdeen. She was of humble station in life. Byron used to show a lock of her light golden hair, as well as her picture, among his friends. (See 'Life', p. 41, 'note'.)]

[Footnote i.:

'But Where's the beam of soft desire? Which gave a lustre to its blue, Love, only love, could e'er inspire.--'

[4to. 'P. on V, Occasions]]

ON THE DEATH OF MR. FOX,[1]

THE FOLLOWING ILLIBERAL IMPROMPTU APPEARED IN THE "MORNING POST."

"Our Nation's foes lament on _Fox's_ death, But bless the hour, when PITT resign'd his breath: These feelings wide, let Sense and Truth unclue, We give the palm, where Justice points its due."

TO WHICH THE AUTHOR OF THESE PIECES SENT THE FOLLOWING REPLY [i] FOR INSERTION IN THE "MORNING CHRONICLE."

Oh, factious viper! whose envenom'd tooth Would mangle, still, the dead, perverting truth; [ii] What, though our "nation's foes" lament the fate, With generous feeling, of the good and great; Shall dastard tongues essay to blast the name [iii] Of him, whose meed exists in endless fame? When PITT expir'd in plenitude of power, Though ill success obscur'd his dying hour, Pity her dewy wings before him spread, For noble spirits "war not with the dead:" His friends in tears, a last sad requiem gave, As all his errors slumber'd in the grave; [iv] He sunk, an Atlas bending "'neath the weight" [v] Of cares o'erwhelming our conflicting state. When, lo! a Hercules, in Fox, appear'd, Who for a time the ruin'd fabric rear'd: He, too, is fall'n, who Britain's loss supplied, [vi] With him, our fast reviving hopes have died; Not one great people, only, raise his urn, All Europe's far-extended regions mourn. "These feelings wide, let Sense and Truth undue, To give the palm where Justice points its due;" [vii] Yet, let not canker'd Calumny assail, [viii] Or round her statesman wind her gloomy veil. FOX! o'er whose corse a mourning world must weep, Whose dear remains in honour'd marble sleep; For whom, at last, e'en hostile nations groan, While friends and foes, alike, his talents own.--[ix] Fox! shall, in Britain's future annals, shine, Nor e'en to PITT, the patriot's 'palm' resign; Which Envy, wearing Candour's sacred mask, For PITT, and PITT alone, has dar'd to ask. [x]

(Southwell, Oct., 1806. [1])

[Footnote 1: The stanza on the death of Fox appeared in the _Morning Post_, September 26, 1806.]

[Footnote 2: This MS. is preserved at Newstead.]

[Footnote i:

_The subjoined Reply._

[4to] ]

[Footnote ii:

_Would mangle, still, the dead, in spite of truth._

[4to] ]

[Footnote iii:

_Shall, therefore, dastard tongues assail the name Of him, whose virtues claim eternal fame?_

[4to] ]

[Footnote iv: _And all his errors._--[4to] ]

[Footnote v: _He died, an Atlas bending 'neath the weight Of cares oppressing our unhappy state. But lo! another Hercules appeared._

[4to] ]

[Footnote vi:

_He too is dead who still our England propp'd With him our fast reviving hopes have dropp'd._

[4to] ]

[Footnote vii: _And give the palm._ [4to] ]

[Footnote viii:

_But let not canker'd Calumny assail And round.--

[4to] ]

[Footnote ix: _And friends and foes._ [4to] ]

[Footnote x: '--would dare to ask.' [410]]

TO A LADY WHO PRESENTED TO THE AUTHOR A LOCK OF HAIR BRAIDED WITH HIS OWN, AND APPOINTED A NIGHT IN DECEMBER TO MEET HIM IN THE GARDEN. [1]