By nature vile, ennobled but by name, Each kindred brute might bid thee blush for shame. Newstead Abbey, November 30. 1808. TO A LADY, ON BEING ASKED MY REASON Each scene recall'd the vanish'd hours, But, wandering on through distant climes, Just gave a sigh to other times, And found in busier scenes relief. Thus, lady! (2) will it be with me, And I must view thy charms no more; I sigh for all I knew before. (1) In Mr. Hobhouse's Miscellany, in which the epitaph was first published, the last line ran thus: "I knew but one unchanged- and here he lies." The reader will not fail to observe, that this inscription was written at a time when the poet's early feelings with respect to the lady of Annesley had been painfully revived.-E. (2) In the first copy, "Thus, Mary!" (Mrs. Musters). The reader will find a portrait of this lady in Finden's Illustrations of Lord Byron's Works, No. iii. - E In flight I shall be surely wise, I cannot view my paradise Without the wish of dwelling there. (1) December 2. 1808. REMIND ME NOT, REMIND ME NOT. REMIND me not, remind me not, Of those beloved, those vanish'd hours Can I forget-canst thou forget, How quick thy fluttering heart did move? (1) In Mr. Hobhouse's volume, the line stood,-"Without a wish to enter there." The following is an extract from an unpublished letter of Lord Byron, written in 1823, only three days previous to his leaving Italy for Greece:-"Miss Chaworth was two years older than myself. She married a man of an ancient and respectable family, but her marriage was Her conduct, however, was irreproachnot a happier one than my own. able; but there was not sympathy between their characters. I had not seen her for many years, when an occasion offered. I was upon the point, with her consent, of paying her a visit, when my sister, who has always had more influence over me than any one else, persuaded me not to do it. 'For,' said she, if you go you will fall in love again, and then there will be a scene; one step will lead to another, et cela fera un éclat.' I was guided by those reasons, and shortly after married,-with what success it is useless to say."- E. Oh! by my soul, I see thee yet, With eyes so languid, breast so fair, And lips, though silent, breathing love. When thus reclining on my breast, Those eyes threw back a glance so sweet, And still we near and nearer prest, And then those pensive eyes would close, While their long lashes' darken'd gloss I dreamt last night our love return'd, Was sweeter in its phantasy Than if for other hearts I burn'd, For eyes that ne'er like thine could beam In rapture's wild reality. Then tell me not, remind me not, Of hours which, though for ever gone, Till thou and I shall be forgot, And senseless as the mouldering stone Which tells that we shall be no more. THERE WAS A TIME, I NEED NOT NAME. THERE was a time, I need not name, Since it will ne'er forgotten be, When all our feelings were the same As still my soul hath been to thee. And from that hour when first thy tongue None, none hath sunk so deep as this And yet my heart some solace knew, Remembrance of the days that were. Yes! my adored, yet most unkind! Yes! 'tis a glorious thought to me, Thou hast been dearly, solely mine. AND WILT THOU WEEP WHEN I AM LOW? AND wilt thou weep when I am low? I would not give that bosom pain. My heart is sad, my hopes are gone, Wilt sigh above my place of rest. And yet, methinks, a gleam of peace Doth through my cloud of anguish shine; And for awhile my sorrows cease, To know thy heart hath felt for mine. Oh lady! blessed be that tear It falls for one who cannot weep: Sweet lady! once my heart was warm Yet wilt thou weep when I am low? Sweet lady! speak those words again; |