« PreviousContinue »
Along the bordering lake,
What answer shall she make ?'
Thy grief let none gainsay ;
Will laugh to flee away.'
Of wife or paramour ?
We late saw streaming o'er.?
Nor perils gathering near ;
No thing that claims a tear. 3 crying, I don't know which. I did what I could to console him, but found him incorrigible. He sends six sighs to Sally. I shall settle him in a farm ; for he has served me faithfully, and Sally is a good woman." After all his adventures by flood and field, short commons included, this humble Achates of the poet has now established himself as the keeper of an Italian warehouse, in Charles Street, Berkeley Square, where, if he does not thrive, every one who knows any thing of his character will say he deserves to do so.]
[“ Enough, enough, my yeoman good,
All this is well to say ;
I'd laugh to get away.” – MS.]
Or e'en a wedded freere,
And torn her yellow hair ? ” — MS.] 3 [" I leave England without regret - I shall return to it without pleasure. I am like Adam, the first convict sentenced to transportation ; but I have no Eve, and have eaten no apple but what was sour as a crab.” – Lord B. to Mr. Hodgson.]
Upon the wide, wide sea :
When none will sigh for me?
Till fed by stranger hands;
He'd tear me where he stands. 2
Athwart the foaming brine ;
So not again to mine.
And when you fail my sight,
1 [From the following passage in a letter to Mr. Dallas, it would appear that that gentleman had recommended the suppression or alteration of this stanza :-“ I do not mean to exchange the ninth verse of the Good Night.' I have no reason to suppose my dog better than his brother brutes, mankind ; and Argus we know to be a fable."] 2 [Here follows, in the original MS. :
“ Methinks it would my bosom glad
To change my proud estate,
With one beloved playmate.
Without disgust or pain,
Or when the bowl I drain.”]
“ And of his train there was a henchman page,
A peasant boy, who served his master well;
On, on the vessel Aies, the land is gone,
And soon on board the Lusian pilots leap, (reap. And steer 'twixt fertile shores where yet few rustics
Oh, Christ ! it is a goodly sight to see
With treble vengeance will his hot shafts urge Gaul's locust host, and earth from fellest foemen
Then would he smile on him, and Alwin smiled,
The gloomy film from Harold's eye beguiled ;
To travel eastward to a far countrie;
Of which our vaunting voyagers oft have told,
Who lick yet loathe the hand that waves the sword To save them from the wrath of Gaul's unsparing
But whoso entereth within this town,
Doth care for cleanness of surtout or shirt,
1 ["A friend advises Ulissipont; but Lisboa is the Portuguese word, consequently the best. Ulissipont is pedantic; and as I had lugged in Hellas and Eros not long before, there would have been something like an affectation of Greek terms, which I wished to avoid. On the submission of Lusitania to the Moors, they changed the name of the capital, which till then had been Ulisipo, or Lispo; because, in the Arabic alphabet, the letter p is not used. Hence, I believe, Lisboa; whence, again, the French Lisbonne, and our Lisbon, — God knows which the earlier corruption ! - Byron, MS.]
2 [“ Which poets, prone to lie, have paved with gold." - MS.] 3 [By comparing this and the thirteen following stanzas with the account of his progress which Lord Byron sent home to his mother, the reader will see that they are the exact echoes of the thoughts which occurred to his mind as he went over the spots described. - MOORE.]
4 [“ 'Mid many things that grieve both nose and ee.” — MS.]
Poor, paltry slaves ! yet born ʼmidst noblest scenes -
Than those whereof such things the bard relates, Who to the awe-struck world unlock'd Elysium's
The horrid crags, by toppling convent crown'd,
The vine on high, the willow branch below,
! [“ To make amends for the filthiness of Lisbon, and its still filthier inhabitants, the village of Cintra, about fifteen miles from the capital, is, perhaps, in every respect, the most delightful in Europe. It contains beauties of every description, natural and artificial : palaces and gardens rising in the midst of rocks, cataracts, and precipices ; convents on stupendous heights; a distant view of the sea and the Tagus ; and, besides (though that is a secondary consideration), is remarkable as the scene of Sir Hew Dalrymple's convention. It unites in itself all the wildness of the western Highlands with the verdure of the south of France.” - Lord B. to Mrs. Byron, 1809.]