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NOTE TO "POEMS WRITTEN IN YOUTH."

Private reasons-some of which have reference to the sin of plagiarism, and others to the date of Tennyson's first poems— have induced me, after some hesitation, to republish these, the crude compositions of my earliest boyhood. They are printed verbatim, without alteration from the original edition, the date of which is too remote to be judiciously acknowledged.—E. A. P. His first publication, I believe, was as early as 1827.—ED.

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ROME. A hall in a palace. ALESSANDRA and CASTIGLIONE.

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Aless. Thou art sad, Castiglione.

Cas.

Sad-not I.

O, I'm the happiest, happiest man in Rome:
A few days more, thou knowest, my Alessandra,
Will make thee mine. O, I am very happy!

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99 "Politian was a juvenile production, and is the least meritorious work Poe has left.-ED.

Aless. Methinks thou hast a singular way of showing Thy happiness. What ails thee, cousin of mine?

Why didst thou sigh so deeply?

Cas.

Did I sigh?

I was not conscious of it. It is a fashion,
A silly-a most silly fashion, I have

When I am very happy.

Aless. Thou didst.

indulged

Did I sigh? (sighing.)

Thou art not well. Thou has

Too much of late, and I am vexed to see it.
Late hours and wine, Castiglione,-these
Will ruin thee. Thou art already altered-
Thy looks are haggard: nothing so wears away
The constitution as late hours and wine.

Cas. (musing) Nothing, fair cousin, nothing-not
even deep sorrow—

Wears it away like evil hours and wine.

I will amend.

Aless.

Do it. I would have thee drop
Thy riotous company too-fellows low-born
Ill suit the like with old Di Broglio's heir
And Alessandra's husband.

Cas.

I will drop them.

Aless. Thou wilt-thou must! Attend thou also

more

To thy dress and equipage,-they are over plain

For thy lofty rank and fashion: much depends
Upon appearances.

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Aless. Then see to it ! Pay more attention, sir,

To a becoming carriage: much thou wantest

In dignity.

Cas. Much, much-O, much I want

In proper dignity.

Aless. (haughtily) Thou mockest me, sir.

Cas. (abstractedly) Sweet, gentle Lalage!
Aless.
Heard I aright?

I speak to him-he speaks of Lalage!

Sir count! (places her hand on his shoulder) what, art thou dreaming? He's not well!

What ails thee, sir?

Cas. (starting) Cousin !-fair cousin!—madam!
I crave thy pardon-indeed, I am not well.
Your hand from off my shoulder, if you please.
This air is most oppressive.-Madam-the duke!

Enter DI BROGLIO.

Di Brog. My son, I've news for thee.—Hey, what's
the matter? (observing Alessandra.)

I' the pouts? Kiss her, Castiglione !—kiss her,
You dog! and make it up, I say, this minute.
I've news for you both: Politian is expected
Hourly in Rome-Politian, Earl of Leicester.
We'll have him at the wedding. "Tis his first visit
To the imperial city.

Aless.

Of Britain, Earl of Leicester ?

Di Brog.

What! Politian

The same, my love.

We'll have him at the wedding. A man quite young
In years, but gray in fame. I have not seen him,
But rumour speaks of him as of a prodigy
Pre-eminent in arts, and arms, and wealth,
And high descent. We'll have him at the wedding.
Aless. I heard much of this Politian.

Gay, volatile, and giddy, is he not,

And little given to thinking?

Di Brog.

Far from it, love.

No branch, they say, of all philosophy

So deep abstruse he has not mastered it:
Learned as few are learned.

Aless.

'Tis very strange !

I have known men have seen Politian,

And sought his company. They speak of him
As of one who entered madly into life,
Drinking the cup of pleasure to the dregs.

Cas. Ridiculous! Now I have seen Politian,
And know him well-nor learned nor mirthful he.
He is a dreamer, and a man shut out

From common passions.

Di Brog. Children, we disagree.

Let us go forth and taste the fragrant air
Of the garden. Did I dream, or did I hear

Politian was a melancholy man ?

[Exeunt.

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