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3 ["At Harrow I was a most unpopular boy, but led latterly, and have retained many of my school friendships, and all my dislikes except to Dr. Butler, whom I treated rebelliously, and have been sorry ever since."- Byron Diary. The reconciliation which took place between him and Dr. Butler, before his departure for Greece, in 1809, is, says Mr. Moore," one of those instances of placability and pliableness with which his life abounded. Not content with this private atonement to the Doctor, it was his intention, had he published another edition of the Hours of Idleness, to substitute, for the offensive verses against that gentleman.
As ancient Rome, fast falling to disgrace,
TO THE DUKE OF DORSET. +
DORSET 5! whose early steps with mine have stray'd,
When youthful parasites, who bend the knee
a frank avowal of the wrong he had been guilty of in giving vent to them."]
4 In looking over my papers to select a few additional poems for this second edition, I found the above lines, which I had totally forgotten, composed in the summer of 1805, a short time previous to my departure from Harrow. They were addressed to a young schoolfellow of high rank, who had been my frequent companion in some rambles through the neighbouring country: however, he never saw the lines, and most probably never will. As, on a re-perusal, I found them not worse than some other pieces in the collection, I have now published them, for the first time, after a slight revision. [George-John-Frederick, fourth Duke of Dorset, born November 15. 1793. This amiable nobleman was killed by a fall from his horse, while hunting near Dublin, February 22. 1815, being on a visit at the time to his mother, the duchessdowager, and her second husband, Charles Earl of Whitworth, then Lord Lieutenant of Ireland.]
6 At every public school the junior boys are completely subservient to the upper forms till they attain a seat in the higher classes. From this state of probation, very properly, no rank is exempt; but after a certain period, they command in turn those who succeed.
Allow me to disclaim any personal allusions, even the most distant: I merely mention generally what is too often the weakness of preceptors.
Turn to the few in Ida's early throng,
Yes! I have mark'd thee many a passing day,
'T is not enough, with other sons of power, To gleam the lambent meteor of an hour; To swell some peerage page in feeble pride, With long-drawn names that grace no page beside; Then share with titled crowds the common lot In life just gazed at, in the grave forgot; While nought divides thee from the vulgar dead, Except the dull cold stone that hides thy head, The mouldering 'scutcheon, or the herald's roll, That well-emblazon'd but neglected scroll, Where lords, unhonour'd, in the tomb may find One spot, to leave a worthless name behind. There sleep, unnoticed as the gloomy vaults That veil their dust, their follies, and their faults, A race, with old armorial lists o'erspread, In records destined never to be read. Fain would I view thee, with prophetic eyes, Exalted more among the good and wise, A glorious and a long career pursue, As first in rank, the first in talent too: Spurn every vice, each little meanness shun; Not Fortune's minion, but her noblest son.
Turn to the annals of a former day; Bright are the deeds thine earlier sires display. One, though a courtier, lived a man of worth, And call'd, proud boast! the British drama forth. 1 Another view, not less renown'd for wit; Alike for courts, and camps, or senates fit; Bold in the field, and favour'd by the Nine; In every splendid part ordain'd to shine; Far, far distinguish'd from the glittering throng, The pride of princes, and the boast of song. Such were thy fathers; thus preserve their name; Not heir to titles only, but to fame. The hour draws nigh, a few brief days will close To me, this little scene of joys and woes;
["Thomas Sackville, Lord Buckhurst, was born in 1527. While a student of the Inner Temple, he wrote his tragedy of Gorboduc, which was played before Queen Elizabeth at Whitehall, in 1561. His tragedy, and his contribution of the Induction and legend of the Duke of Buckingham to the "Mirror for Magistrates," compose the poetical history of Sackville. The rest of it was political. In 1604, he was created Earl of Dorset by James I. He died suddenly at the council table, in consequence of a dropsy on the brain." CAMPBELL.J
2 [Charles Sackville, Earl of Dorset, was born in 1637, and died in 1706. He was esteemed the most accomplished man of his day, and alike distinguished in the voluptuous court of Charles II. and the gloomy one of William III. He behaved with considerable gallantry in the sea-fight with the Dutch in 1665; on the day previous to which he is said to have composed his celebrated song, To all you Ladies now at Land. His character has been drawn in the highest colours by Dryden, Pope, Prior, and Congreve.]
"["I have just been, or rather ought to be, very much
Each knell of Time now warns me to resign
Hope, that could vary like the rainbow's hue,
For me, in future, neither friend nor foe,
To veil those feelings which perchance it ought,
WRITTEN SHORTLY AFTER THE MARRIAGE OF MISS
HILLS of Annesley! bleak and barren,
Where my thoughtless childhood stray'd, How the northern tempests, warring,
Howl above thy tufted shade!
Now no more, the hours beguiling, Former favourite haunts I see; Now no more my Mary smiling
Makes ye seem a heaven to me.
shocked by the death of the Duke of Dorset. We were at school together, and there I was passionately attached to him. we have never met, once, think, since 1805 and it would be a paltry affectation to pretend that I had any feeling for him worth the name. But there was a time in my life when this event would have broken my heart; and all I can say for it now is that it is not worth breaking. 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. Byron Letters, 1815. The Verses referred to were those mélan choly ones, beginning," There's not a joy the world can give, like those it takes away."]
[The circumstances which lent so peculiar an interest to Lord Byron's introduction to the family of Chaworth, ar sufficiently explained in the " Notices of his Life."" The young lady herself combined," says Mr. Moore," with the many worldly advantages that encircled her, much personal beauty, and a disposition the most amiable and attaching. Though already fully alive to her charms, it was at this period
GRANTA. A MEDLEY.
'Αργυρίαις λόγχαισι μάχου καὶ πάντα Κρατήσαις. OH! Could Le Sage's demon's gift
Be realised at my desire,
This night my trembling form he'd lift To place it on St. Mary's spire.
Then would, unroof'd, old Granta's halls
The price of venal votes to pay.
Then would I view each rival wight,
Lo! candidates and voters lie 3
All lull'd in sleep, a goodly number :
A race renown'd for piety,
Whose conscience won't disturb their slumber.
Lord H4, indeed, may not demur;
But very seldom,-now and then.
They know the Chancellor has got
Some pretty livings in disposal: Each hopes that one may be his lot,
And therefore smiles on his proposal.
Now from the soporific scene
I'll turn mine eye, as night grows later, To view, unheeded and unseen,
The studious sons of Alma Mater.
There, in apartments small and damp
He surely well deserves to gain them, With all the honours of his college, Who, striving hardly to obtain them, Thus seeks unprofitable knowledge :
Who sacrifices hours of rest
To scan precisely metres attic ; Or agitates his anxious breast
In solving problems mathematic:
(1804) that the young poet seems to have drunk deepest of that fascination whose effects were to be so lasting: six short weeks which he passed in her company being sufficient to lay the foundation of a feeling for all life. With the summer holidays ended this dream of his youth. He saw Miss Chaworth once more in the succeeding year, and took his last farewell of her on that hill near Annesley, which, in his poem of The Dream,' he describes so happily as crowned with a peculiar diadem.'" In August, 1805, she was married to John Musters, Esq.; and died at Wiverton Hall, in February, 1832, in consequence, it is believed, of the alarm and danger to which she had been exposed during the sack of Colwick Hall by a party of rioters from Nottingham. The unfortunate lady had been in a feeble state of health for several years, and she and her daughter were obliged to take shelter from the violence of the mob in a shrubbery, where, partly from cold, partly from terror, her constitution sustained a shock which it wanted vigour to resist.]
The Diable Boiteux of Le Sage, where Asmodeus, the demon, places Don Cleofas on an elevated situation, and unroofs the houses for inspection.
2 [On the death of Mr. Pitt, in January, 1806, Lord Henry
For did those eyes as planets roll,
Thy sister-lights would scarce appear: E'en suns, which systems now control,
Would twinkle dimly through their sphere. 1
WOMAN! experience might have told me,
But, placed in all thy charms before me,
Oh memory! thou choicest blessing