The Starlight of his Boyhood;-as he stood
Even at the altar, o'er his brow there came
The self-same aspect, and the quivering shock
That in the antique Oratory shook

His bosom in its solitude; and then-
As in that hour-a moment o'er his face
The tablet of unutterable thoughts

Was traced, and then it faded as it came,
And he stood calm and quiet, and he spoke
The fitting vows, but heard not his own words,
And all things reel'd around him; he could see
Not that which was, nor that which should have been-
But the old mansion, and the accustom'd hall,
And the remember'd chambers, and the place,
The day, the hour, the sunshine, and the shade,
All things pertaining to that place and hour,
And her who was his destiny,-came back

And thrust themselves between him and the light:
What business had they there at such a time?4

VII.

A change came o'er the spirit of my dream.
The Lady of his love;-Oh! she was changed
As by the sickness of the soul; her mind
Had wander'd from its dwelling, and her eyes
They had not their own lustre, but the look
Which is not of the earth; she was become
The queen of a fantastic realm; her thoughts
Were combinations of disjointed things;
And forms impalpable and unperceived
Of others' sight familiar were to hers.
And this the world calls frenzy; but the wise
Have a far deeper madness, and the glance
Of melancholy is a fearful gift;

What is it but the telescope of truth?
Which strips the distance of its fantasies,
And brings life near in utter nakedness,
Making the cold reality too real! 5

VIII.

A change came o'er the spirit of my dream,
The Wanderer was alone as heretofore,

The beings which surrounded him were gone,
Or were at war with him; he was a mark
For blight and desolation, compass'd round
With Hatred and Contention; Pain was mix'd
In all which was served up to him, until,
Like to the Pontic monarch of old days,6
He fed on poisons, and they had no power,
But were a kind of nutriment; he lived
Through that which had been death to many men,
And made him friends of mountains: with the stars
And the quick Spirit of the Universe

He held his dialogues; and they did teach
To him the magic of their mysteries;

To him the book of Night was open'd wide,
And voices from the deep abyss reveal'd
A marvel and a secret-Be it so.

IX.

My dream was past; it had no further change.
It was of a strange order, that the doom

Of these two creatures should be thus traced out
Almost like a reality-the one

To end in madness-both in misery.

July, 1816.

NOTES TO THE DREAM.

1.-Page 358, line 25.

But trembled on her words; she was his sight,
"she was his sight,

For never did he turn his glance until
Her own had led by gazing on an object."-MS.]

2.-Page 359, line 23.

That he was wretched, but she saw not all.

["I had long been in love with M. A. C., and never told it, though she had discovered it without. I recollect my sensations, but cannot describe them, and it is as well."-B. Diary, 1822.]

3.-Page 360, line 16.

That God alone was to be seen in heaven.

[This is true keeping-an Eastern picture perfect in its foreground, and distance, and sky, and no part of which is so dwelt upon or laboured as to obscure the principal figure. It is often in the slight and almost imperceptible touches that the hand of the master is shown, and that a single spark, struck from his fancy, lightens with a long train of illumination that of the reader.-SIR WALTER SCOTT.]

4.-Page 361, line 19.

What business had they there at such a time?

[This touching picture agrees closely, in many of its circumstances, with Lord Byron's own prose account of the wedding in his Memoranda; in which he describes himself as waking, on the morning of his marriage, with the most melancholy reflections, on seeing his wedding-suit spread out before him. In the same mood he wandered about the grounds alone, till he was summoned for the ceremony, and joined, for the first time, on that day, his bride and her family. He knelt downhe repeated the words after the clergyman; but a mist was before his eyes-his thoughts were elsewhere: and he was but awakened by the congratulations of the bystanders to find that he was-married.MOORE.]

5.-Page 361, line 36.

Making the cold reality too real!
"the glance

Of melancholy is a fearful gift;

For it becomes the telescope of truth,

And shows us all things naked as they are."

6.-Page 362, line 6.

Like to the Pontic monarch of old days,

Mithridates of Pontus.

END OF VOL. I.

"-M3

BRADBURY, AGNEW, & Co., PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.