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And since not even our Rogers' praise
TO THOMAS MOORE;
MR. LEIGH HUNT IN COLBATH-FIELDS PRISON,
To me, divine Apollo, granl–0!
TO LORD THURLOW.
“I lay my branch of laurel down:
Then thus to form Apollo's crown, * Let every other bring his own."
Lord Thurlow's lines to Mr. Rogers.
But now to my letter-to yours 't is an answer-
"I lay my branch of laurel down." Thoil" lay thy branch of laurel down!”
Why, what thou 'st stole is not enow; And, were it lawfully thine own,
Does Rogers want it most, or thou ? Keep to thyself thy wither'd bough,
Or send it back to Doctor Donne: Were justice done to both, I trow,
He'd have but little, and thou-none.
IMPROMPTU, IN REPLY TO A FRIEND.
Her dusky shadow mounts loo high,
And clouds the brow, or fills the eye;
My thoughts their dungeon know loo well;
“Then thus to form Apollo's crown.”
Inquire amongst your fellow-lodgers,
“Let every other bring his owon." When coals to Newscatle are carried,
And owls sent to Athens, as wonders,
Or Liverpool weeps o'er his blunders:
When Castlereagh's wife has an heir, Then Rogers shall ask us for laurel,
And thou shalt have plenty to spare.
SONNET, TO GENEVRA.
And the wan lustre of thy features-caught
From contemplation-where serenely wrought, Seems Sorrow's softness charmid from its despairHave thrown such speaking sadness in thine air,
That-but I know thy blessed bosom fraught.
With mines of unalloy'd and stainless thought-
some of the beauties of the work. One of the poems was a warm
(1). The reader who wishes 10 understand the full force of and, I need not add, well-deserved panegyric on himself. The
this scandalous insinuation, is referred to Murelus's noles on : opening line of the poem was, as well as I can recollect,
celebraled poem of Calullus, entitled In Cæsarem; but con• When Rogers o'er this labour bent.'
sisting, in fact, of savagely scornful abuse of the favourite HaAnd Lord Byron undertook to read it aloud; but he found it murra :impossible to get beyond the first two words. Our laughter
Quis hoc potest videre? quis potest pati, had now increased to such a pitch that nothing could restrain
Nisi impudicus et voras et helluo? it. Two or three times he began, but, no sooner had the words
Mamurram habere , quod comata Gallia When Rogers ' passed his lips, than our fit burst forth afresh
Habebat uncl'im, et ultima Britannia ? " etc.-E. lilleven Mr. Rogers himself, with all his feeling of our injustice, (2; “These verses are said to have dropped from the poet's found it impossible not to join us; and had the author himself pen, lo excuse a transient expression of melancholy which overbeen of the party, I question much whether he could have re- clouded the general gaiety". Walter Scoll.-E. sisted the infection."- Moore
With such an aspect, by his colours blent, And sausages made of a self-slain Jew
When from his beauty-breathing pencil born, And belhought himself what next to do. (Except that thou hast nothing to repent)
"And,” quoth he, “ I 'll take a drive. The Magdalen of Guido saw the morn
I walk'd in the morning, I'll ride to-night; Such seem'st thou—but how much more excellent! In darkness my children take most delight, With nought Remorse can claim-nor Virtue And I'll see how my favourites thrive.
December 17, 1813. (1)
“And what shall I ride in ?" quoth Lucifer then
“If I follow'd my taste, indeed,
I should mount in a waggon of wounded men, SONNET, TO THE SAME.
And smile to see them bleed.
But these will be furnish'd again and again, Tay cheek is pale with thought, but not from woe,
And at present my purpose is speed; And yet, so lovely, that if Mirth could flush
To see my manor as much as I may, lis rose of whiteness with the brightest blush,
And watch that no souls shall be poach'd away. My heart would wish away that ruder glow: And dazzle not thy deep-blue eyes—but, oh! "I have a state-coach at Carlton House,
While gazing on them sterner eyes will gush, A chariot in Seymour Place;
And into mine my mother's weakness rush, But they're lent to iwo friends, who make me Soft as the last drops round heaven's airy bow. By driving my favourile pace:
[amends For, through thy long dark lashes low depending, And they handle their reins with such a grace, The soul of melancholy Genileness
I have something for both at the end of their race. Cleams like a seraph from the sky descending,
"So now for the earth, to take my chance !" Above all pain, yet pitying all distress :
Then up to the earth sprung he, Al once such majesty with sweetness blending,
And making a jump from Moscow to France,
He stepp'd across the sea,
And rested bis hoof on a turnpike road,
No very great way from a bishop's abode.
But first as he flew, I forgot to say,
That he hover'd a moment upon his way In moments to delight devoted,
To look upon Leipsic plain; “My life!” with tenderest tone, you cry;
And so sweet to his eye was its sulphury glare Dear words! on which my heart had doted,
Anil so soft to his ear was the cry of despair, If youth could neither fade nor die.
That he perch'd on a mountain of slain; To death even hours like these must roll,
And he gazed with delight from its growing height: ! Ah! then repeat those accents never ;
Nor often on earth had he seen such a sight, Or change “my life!”inlo “my soul!”
Nor his work done half as well; Which, like my love, exists for ever.
For the field ran so red with the blood of the dead,
That it blush'd like the waves of hell!
Then loudly, and wildly, and long laugh'd he: You call me still your life.-Oh! change the word “Methinks they have here little need of me!”
Life is as transient as the inconstant sigh :
But the softest note that soothed his ear
Was the sound of a widow sighing;
Which horror froze in the blue eye clear
Of a maid by her lover lying
As round her fell her long fair hair;
And she look'd lo heaven with that frenzied air, The devil return'd to hell by two,
Which seem':? to ask if a God were there! And he stay'd at home till five;
And, stretch'd by the wall of a ruin'd hut, When he dined on some homicides donein ragout, With its hollow cheek, and eyes half shul, And a rebel or so in an Irish stew,
A child of famine dying:
(1) “Redde some Italian, and wrote iwo sonnets. I never (2) "I have lately written a wild, rambling, unfinished rhapwrote but one sonnet before, and that was not in earnest, and sody, called The Devil's Drive,' the notion of which I took many years ago, as an exercise-and I will never write another. From Porson's Devil's Walk.” B. Diary, 1813.-" This strange They are the most puling, petrifying, stupidly platonic compo- wild poem,” says Moore, "is, for the most part, rather clumsily sitions.” Diary, 1813.-E.
executed, wanting the point and condensation of those clever
And the carnage, begun when resistance is done, and the Devil was shock’d-and quoth he, “I
For I find we have much better manners below;
If lhus he harangues when he passes my border,
I shall hint to friend Moloch lo call him to order."
What we see every day:
Lines composed on the occasion of Ilis Royal Highness the Prince
Regent being seen standing between the collins of Henry VIII.
Famed for contemptuous breach of sacred lies,
By headless Charles see heartless Henry lies;
Belween them stands another sceptred thing-
It moves, it reigns, in all but name, a king:
Charles to his people, Henry to his wife,
Justice and death have mix'd their dust in vain,
Each royal vampire wakes to life again.
The blood and dust of both-10 mould a George.
ODE TO NAPOLEON BONAPARTE.(2)
“Expende Annibalem :--quot libras in duce summo
Juvenal, Sat. X. (3)
“The Emperor Nepos was acknowledged by the Senate, by
the Italians, and by the Provincials of Gaul: bis moral virtues,
and military talents, were loudly celebrated; and those who
Gibbon's Decline and Fall, vol. vi. p. 230. (4)
'T is done-but yesterday a king!
And arm'd with kings to strive-
And now Thou art a nameless thing:
So abject-yet alive!
Is this the man of thousand throres,
verses of Mr. Coleridge, which Lord Byron, adopling a notion do with great facility, as the inside of the costin was smooth,
11; "I cannot conceive how the Vault has got about—bul so whole did not exceed in weight one ounce and a ball! ANDIS THIS
(5) "I don't know-but I think I, even 1 (an inseci compared
with this creature, have set my life on casts nol a millionth part
for. Yet, to outlivc Lodi for this!!! Oh that Juvenal or Johnson
He who of old would rend the oak (3)
Dream'd not of the rebound!
Alone-how look'd he round?
And darker fate hast found:
Since he, miscall'd the Morning Star,
Who bow'd so low the knee?
Thou taught'st the rest to see.
To those that worshipp'd thee:
To after-warriors more
And vainly preach'd before.
That led them to adore
The Roman, (3) when his burning heart
Was slaked with blood of Rome,
In savage grandeur, home.
Yet left him such a doom!
The triumph, and the vanity,
The rapture of the strife (1)
To thee the breath of life;
Wherewith renown was rife-
The victor overthrown!
A suppliant for his own!
Or dread of death alone ?
The Spaniard, when the lust of sway
Had lost its quickening spell,(4)
An empire for a cell;
His dolage trifled well: (5)
The Thunderbolt is wrung-
To which thy weakness clung;
To see thine own unstrung;
Who thus can hoard his own!
rate it worth a ducal. Psha! something loo much of this.' But Charles the Fifth but so so; but Napoleon worst of all." B I won't give him up, even now; though all his admirers have, Diary, April, 9). like the Thanes, fallen from him." B. Diary, April 9.-E. (4) “Alter 'polent spell’to quickening spell:' the first (as
(1) “Certaminis gaudia”-the expression of Altila in his ha- Polonius says, 'is a vile phrase,' and means nothing, besides rangue to his army, previous to the battle of Clialons, given in being common-place and Kosa-Malildaish. After the resoluCassiodorus.
tion of not publishing, though our Ode is a thing of liule length (2) “Out or lown six days. On my return, find my poor little and less consequence, it will be beller allogether that it is pagod, Napoleon, pushed off his pedestal it is bis own saull. anonymous.” Lord B. to Mr. M. April 11.-E. Like Milo, he would rend the oak; but it closed again, wedged (5) Charles the Fifth, Emperor of Germany, and King of Spain, l.is hands, and now the beasts-lion, bear, down to the dirtiest resigned, in 1585, bis imperial crown to his brother Ferdinand, jackall-may all lear him. That Muscovite winter wedged his and the kingdom oi Spain to his son Philip, and relired to a arms;-ever since, he has sought with his feet and teetti. The monastery in Estremadura, where he copformed, in his manner last may still leave their marks: and I guess now' (as the of living, to all the rigour of monastic austerity. Not satisfied Yankees say), that he will yet play them a pass.” B. Diary, with this, he dressed himself in his shroud, was laid in his collin April 8.
with much solemnily, joined in the prayers wbich were offered (5) Sylla.—(We find the germ of this stanza in the diary of up for the rest of his soul, and mingled his lears with those the evening before it was written :-'Methinks Sylla did better; i which bis aliendants shed, as if they had been celebrating : for he revenged, and resigned in the height of his sway, red real funeral.-E. with the slaughter of his foes-the finest instance of glorious (6) "I looked," says Boswell, “ into Lord Kaimes's Sketches contempt of the rascals upon recoril. Dioclesian did well 100- of The History of Man, and mentioned to Dr. Johnson his cerAinuraih not amiss, bad he become aught except a dervise- sure of Charles the Fifth, for celebrating his funeral obsequies
In loitering mood upon the sand
That Earth is now as free!
And monarchs bow'd the trembling linib,
And thank'd hiin for a throne!
In humblest guise have shown.
Nor written thus in vain-
Or deepen every stain:
To shame the world again-
Is vile as vulgar clay;
To all that pass away:
To dazzle and dismay:
Thy still imperial bride;
Still clings she lo thy side ?
Thou Throneless homicide?
the sea ;
It ne'er was ruled by thee!
Thou, Timour! in his captive's cage (4)
What thoughts will there be thine,
But one-". The world was mine!”
Life will not long confine
Wilt thou withstand the shock?
His vulture and his rock!
The very fiend's arch mock;(7)
While earth was Gaul's-Gaul thine-
Unsaled to resign
And gilded thy decline
But thou, forsooth! must be a king,
And don the purple vest, –
Remembrance from thy breast.
The star-the string-the crest ?
in his life-time, wbich, I told him, I had been used to think a
(5) Prometheus. solemn and affecting act.” Jounson. “Why, sir, a man may
(6) In the first draughtdispose bis mind lo ibink so of that act of Charles; but it is so
" He suffered for kind acts to men liable lo ridicule, that is one man out often thousand laughs a!
Who have nol seen his like again, it, be 'll make the other nine thousand nine hundred and ninety
At least of kingly stock; nine laugh too."-Croker's Boswell, vol. iv. p. 102.- E.
Since be was good, and thou but great, (1) In the MS.
Thou canst out quarrel with thy iule."-E, “But who would rise in brightest day
(7) The very fiend's arch mockTo set wilbuut one parting ray?"-E.
To lip a wanton, and suppose her chaste."-Shakspeure. (2) Count Neipperg, a gentleman in the suite of the Emperor | We believe there is no doubt of the anecdote bere alluded 10 of Austria, who was first presented to Maria Louisa within a -of Napoleon's having sound leisure for an unworthy amour, few days after Napoleon's abdication, became, in the sequel, the very evening of his arrival al Fontainebleau.-E.) her Chamberlain, and then her husband. He is said to have (8) The three last stanzas, which Lord Byron had been solibeen a man of remarkably plain appearance. The Count died cited by Mr. Murray to write, to avoid the stamp duty then imin 1831.-E.
posed upon publicalions not exceeding a sheel, were nol pub(3) Dionysius the Younger, esteemed a greater tyrant than lished with the rest of the poem. "I don't like them at all," his father, on being for the second time banished (rom Syracuse, says Lord Byron, “and they had better be lest out. The fact is, retired to Corinth, where he was obliged to turn schoolmaster I can't do any thing I am asked 10 do, however gladly I would : for a subsistence.--E.
and at the end of a week my interest in a composition goes (4) The cage of Bajazel, by order of Tamerlane.