IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) V] 'a. ^, ^ J' ^ ,^ 1.0 liililM IIIII25 •^ ii^ 112.2 I.I 2.0 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 1^ 6" ► ll__A !.•_ Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 4jn ^^v/«Nr«s^j r«vr^v##vr4 "« \ r*^^^» POEMS, ■ BY LORD BYRON. 'i\*' ^o / lOM] II. A STAR C m THE I First PUBl leandJ POEMS ON HIS «> f\ r >*;•' ^ lOMESTIC CIRCUMSTANCES. ^M»^*^'f^*-**^ BY LORD BYRON. *^ #^.#>* *Nr #\# #vr I. FARE THEE WELL. II. A SKETCH FROM PRIVATE LIFE. WITH THr. STAR OF THE LEGION OF HONOUR^ if AND OTHER POEMS. TO WHICH IS PREFIXED, THE LIFE OF THE NOBLE AUTHOR. Tiu First Montreal^ from the Sight London Edilion. fc's. 1 MONTREAL : • ^ rVBLISHED BY H. H. CUNNINGHAM, AND BY LANE AND BOWMAN. 1816. ilfie and JBotnnon, Printers^ 7, St. Frangois Xavicr Street. i ,' . RIi \ 1 The f; in the Doomsi lordshi] j^ BjTon, ^i Nottinj ,! wick, I Byron of Riclj V in 1181 [' grant o shire, i and fiv< of Colo V whose : '% Sir 1 I nent lo ^ the wai •: > •- *■ -t -r* MEMOIE OF THE RIGHT HON. LORD BYRON. >ft^{'gC w» 1 1 HE family of Byron are so ancient as to occur jin the character of considerable landholders in [Doomsdaybook. They were early seated at the lordship of Clayton, in Lancashire. Sir Richard [Byron, who died in 1398, acquired possessions in [Nottinghamshire, by marrying the heiress of Cole- jwick, of Colewick. His descendant, Sir John Byron of Colewick, took part with Henry, Earl [of Richmond, at the battle of Bosworth ; and died [in 118C. His grandson. Sir John Byron, had a grant of the priory of Newstead, in Nottingham- shire, in 1540. His son. Sir John, had three sons [and five daughters, of whom Margery was mother of Colonel John Hutchinson, the parliamentarian, I whose memoirs were some time since published. Sir Nicholas Byron, the eldest son, was an emi- nent loyalist, who having distinguished himself in I the wars of the low countries, was appointed gov- A 3 M' I t 1 '■ t b MEMOIR OF cmor of Chester, in 1642. Lord Clarendon, says, he was " a soldier of very good command, who being a person of aflability and dexterity, as well as martial knowledge, gave great life to the designs of the well-affected there ; and with the encour- agement of some gentlemen of North Wales, in a short time raised such a power of horse and foot, as made often skirmishes with the enemy ; some- times with notable advantage ; never with any signal loss." He had two sons, who both died without issue ; and his younger brother, Sir John, became heir male ; this person was made a Knight of the BatJb, at the coronation of James I. He had eleven sons, of whom the major part distinguished themselves for their loyalty and gallantry on the side of Charles I. Sir Thomas, a younger son, command- ed the Prince of Wales' regiment at the battle of Hopton-heath ; and Lord Clarendon calls him " a gentleman of great courage, and \ery good con- duct who charged with good execution." His elder brother, Sir John Byron, makes a conspicu- ous figure in the pages of that noble historian, for his activity, and the important command entrusted to him. " In truth says he, " there was no gen- tlemen in the kingdom of a better reputation a- mong all sorts of men." t/)^ I } LORD BYRON. IS no gen- utatioi) a- ndon, says, Hand, who ty, as well the designs he encour- Vales, in a B and foot, ly ; some- • with any lOut issue ; jcame heir f the Bath, | leven sons, I hemselves jf le side of | command- f 3 battle of * Is him "at good con- *i )n." His i conspicu- torian, for entrusted On his appointment to the Lieutenancy of the Tower of London, the opponents of tjie court re- monstrated ; and the king answered, that *' he did not expect, having preferred a person of a known fortune and unquestionable reputation to that trust, he should have been pressed to remove him without any particular charge," but after- wards, when Sir John himself desired to be " freed from the agony and vexation of that place," his Majesty consented to the alteration. He was created Lord Byron, October 24, 1643, with a collateral remainder to his brothers. After various honourable services, he was, on the de- cline of the King's affairs, appointed governor to the Duke of York ; in which office he died in France, in 1652, without issue. His brother, Richard, became second Lord Byron ; he was knighted by Charles L and had a command at the battle of Edgehill. He was governor of Appleby- Castle, and also distinguished himself in the gov- ernment of Newark. He died 1679, aged seven- ty four, and it is recorded on his tomb, in the church of Hucknal-Torkard, that " with the rest of his family, being seven brothers, he faithfully served King Charles L in the civil wars," and that they " suffered much for their loyalty, and lost all their fortunes ; yet it pleased God so to bless A 4 1 ;i 8 MEMOIR OF the honest endeavours of the said Ricliard, Lord Byron, that he re-purchased part of their ancient inheritance, which he left to his posterity, with a laudable memory for great piety and charity." His son William, third Lord Byron., died 1695, leaving his son William, fourth peer, who died at Newstead-Abbey, 1736, leaving five sons, of whom John, the second, was the well-known ad- miral ; but William, the eldest, became fifth peer, and died without surviving issue male. May 19, 1798, on which the honour fell to his great nephew, George Gordon Byron, the present and sixth Lord Byron. i His present Lordship's father married first. Bar- oness Conycrs, the daughter of Lord Holdernesse, by whom he had only a daughter ; and secondly. Miss Gordon, of Gight, by whom he had George Gordon Byron, the present lord, born January 22, 1788. Miss Gordon was the last of that branch of the family who are descended from the Princess Jane Stuart, daughter of James IL of Scotland, who married the Earl of Huntley ; from the elder branch, the Countess of Sutherland is descended - John Byron died soon after his son was born. William, the heir apparent, who had gone into the army, was killed in the island of Corsica, a considerable time before the death of his grand- :h ird, Lord r ancient Yf with a mtyr ed 1695, who died sons, of lown ad- ifth peer, May 19, nephew, xth Lord irst, Bar- dernesse, iecondly, d George luary 22, branch of Princess Scotland, the elder scended. 'as born. ;one into ■orsica, a s grand- LORD BYROff. • father ; on which event his cc: in became the heir presumptive to the title ; which some time after, by the death of the old lord, his grand-uncle, de- volved upon him, while he was yet very young. Lord Byron's childhood continued to keep the title out of public view ; but in time he began to distinguish it by his eccentricities at school and college. Some of his early years were spent in Scotland ; but he received at Harrow school the chief part of his education, which he finished at ^he university of Cambridge. Soon after quitting school, he manifested his ambition for " a leaf of Daphne's deathless plant,'* by publishing a volume of poems, under the title of " Hours of Idleness." This met with some rough treatment from the Edinburgh Review, and other critics, which his lordship retorted by a sat- ire, that evinced a spirit not lo be repressed, and talents that excited greater expectations. The volume of juvenile poems, indeed, displays several specimens of considerable poetical talent, of which the following beautiful lines on leaving Newstead Abbey* will afford the reader Very suf- ficient evidence. ^ 'J- X * Newstead Abbey, in Nottinghamshire, wis found- ed as a priory of Black Canons, about 1170, by Henry the Second. At the dissolution, its revenues were eg- A 3 m 10 MEHOm OF /I ) ■ I. Through thy battlements, Newstead, the hollow winds whistle, Thou, the hall of my fathers, are gone to decay j In thy once smiling garden, the hemlock and thistle Have chok'd up the rose. Avhich late bloomM in thy way. II. Of the mail-coverM barors, who proudly to battle. Led their vassals from Europe to Palestine's plain. The escutcheon and shield, which with every blast rattle. Are the only sad vestiges now thax remain. III. No more doth old Robert, with harp-stringing numbers, Raise a flame iii the breast, for the war-laurel'd wreath ; Near Askelon's towers, John of Horiston * slumbers, Unnerv'd is the hand of his minstrelv by death. IV. Paul and Hubert too sleep, j , the vally of Creasy, For the safety of Edward and England they fell ; timated at 229/. and it was granted to Sir John Byron, at that time, Lieutenant of Sherwood forest. It is sit- uated in a vale, in the midst of an extensive park, fine- ly planted. Mr. Young thus describes it in its days of splendour. *' On one side of the house a very large vjinding lake was then maVing : on the other side a very fine lake (still in exif-tence) flowed almost up to the house : the banks on on^ eide consisted of fine woods which spread over the edge of a hill, down to the wa- ter ; on the other shore were scattered groves and a park. On the banks are two piiuresque castles wash- ed by the wf.^er of the lake. A twenty gun ship with several yachts aad boats lying at anchor, threw an air of most pleasing cheerfulness over the whole scene." * Horiston-Castle, Derbyshire, an ancient seat of thft Byron family. LORD BYRON. n )lIow winds I decay j id thistle )mM in thy ) battle, le's plain, blast rattle, n. >g numbers, rar-laurel'd slumbers, [leath. >re«!sy", hey fell ; •hn Bvron, It is sit- park, fine- its days of v^ery large ther side a aost np to fine woods to the vva- Dves and a ties wa?h- t ship with irew an air 5 scene." seat of the I My fathers ! the tears of your country redress you ; How you fought 1 how you died ! still her ann annals can tell. V. On Marston,* withRupert,t Against traitors contending, Four brothers enriched with their blood the bleak field ; For the rights of a monorch, their country defending, Till death their attachment to royalty seaj^d? VI. Shades of heroes, farexvell ! your descendant, departing From the seat of his ancestors, bids you adieu ! Abroad, or at home, your remembrance imparting New courage, he'll think upon glory and you. VII. Though a tear dim his eye, at this sad separation, 'Tis nature, not fear, that excites his regret ; Far distant he goes, with the same emulation. The fame of his fathers he ne'er can forget, VIII. That fame, and that memory, still will be cherigh, He vows, that he ne'er will disgrace your renown ; Like you will he live, or like you will he perish ; When decay'd, may he mingle his dust with your own I When Lord Byron came of age, he took his seat in the House of Peers, and afterwards went abroad, spending some time in the classical coun- tries, in the south and east of Europe. He re- turned to England, in 1810; and in the spring of * The battle of Marston-moor, where the adherents of Charles I. were defcpfed. t Son of the Elector Palatinate, and related to vnarles I. he aftcrvvarils coiumundcd the ilect, in tho reign of Charles II. A 6 12 MEMOIR OF the following year, he published his " Childe Ha- raid's Pilgrimage,^^ which, like all his subsequent works, have met with the most unprecedented Success, and have for ever established his lord- ship's fame, as the first poet of modern times. The Giaour, the Bride of Abydos, the Corsain^ Lara, Hebrew Melodies, the Siege of Corinth, and Parisina, have quickly followed the Childe Ha- rold, and have become, equally, the theme of ad' iriration. These, together with the " Hours of Idli.nf ss," already noticed, the " English Bards, and Scotch Reviewers,"* a keen satire on the northern critics, (but who made the amende hon- ourable for their conduct, in their review of the Childe Harold) and the following small poems, compose the whole of Lord Byron's works. On January ?, 1815, Lord Byron was married to the beautiful and accomplished Anne-Isabella, only child of Sir Ralph Noel, Baronet, (late Mil- banke ;) by whom he has one daughter. This union, which, at first, promised every happiness, has unfortunately deceived the hopes of both par- ties , but has given birth to two poems on Lord * The first work has been long since out of print, and | the second has been suppressed^ and is not to be pro- cured on any terms. Two specimens from both these productions will be seen at the end of this memoir* LORD BYRON. 13 "^hilde Ha- subsequent pecedented i his lord- ern times, le CorsaiPj orinth, and [^hilde Ha- leme of ad- " Hours of lish Bards, ire on the mende hon- 7\e^/v of the lall poems, i'orks. ras married ne-Isabella, t, (late Mil- iter. This happiness, of both par- ns on Lord Byron's " Domestic Circumstances, hich will not easily be forgotten : the first, as lemarkable for its delicacy and pathos, as the second is for the powerful and cutting vein of satire, which pervades every line. It is now our painful duty to allude to those " circumstances" which gave rise to these two poems. Towards the close of last year, the tongue of rumour had begun to whisper some intimations of that wedded discord which is now unfortunately the subject of conveisation from one extremity of the empire to another. The newspaper next — whose vigilance in ferreting out discrepances of all kinds, seems no less admirable than their dexterity in describing them — the newspapers soon started in pursuit of such excellent sport, by joining in the hue-and-cry of the fashionable world. February the 12th, 1816, those telegnpbs of insinuation, the daily prints, first announced to llie public the following piece of intelligence : " A matrimonial separation in high life, at least for the present, has, we hear, taken place, in con- sequence of one of those domestic fracas which will sometimes occur in the best regulated fami- lies. The happy pair have scarcely passed " Twelve vaning moons in biisp supreme ;" n n *o 14 MEMOIR OF bH r s and the Lady has recently blessed her Lord with an infant daughter ; his Lords=hip in a poetical flight of fancy, is said to have pretty broadly in- timated, that her Ladyship had his free consent to leave the house, and return to her relatives ! This, report says, the Lady soon afterwards did, taking with her, in a post-chaise, the child and its nurse, to the great astonishment of his Lordship." The paragraph just transcribed still left the town ignorant of the circumstances which had pro- duced this sad separation in elevated life. Feb- bruary the 24th, however, something like an ex- planation of the denouncement] was attempted to be ne ; and yet, perhaps, few females could peruse the beautiful and affecting stanzas entitled, " Fare Thee Well 1'* flowing from the impetus of his feelings, and not incline to forgive the bosom tliat dictated them.* Compassion is the genial balm of human life ; and never can its sympathy be ex- ercised with more propriety and loveliness, than when it condescends to welcome the very first ap- * The cold in clime, are cold in blood, Their love can scarce deserve t!ie name ; Bui mine was like the lava-flood, Thftt boiiB in ^tua's breast of ilaiue I- LORD BYRON. 17 preaches of contrition. Who but admires the be- nignity with which our great epic poet has con- trived that Adam should forgive the errors of re- penting Eve ? Matrimony too often finds occasion for indulgencies of this kind, even where no radical or great deficiency of attachment is discoverable. With the merits of Lord Byron's muse, most readers of poetry have long been familiar ; but it may nevertheless be expected that some opinion should be here hazarded with regard to the two efiusions now offered to the public. Criticism would feel no hesitation in affirming, on this head, that the pretensions of these pieces are varied and great ; — that the stanzas of " Fare Thee Well !" are equal to those which were ad- dressed by the late Mrs. Robinson, when going abroad, to General Tarleton ; and that the satire of " A Sketch from Private Life," is only next in poignancy to Savage's poem of " The Bastard." This encomium his Lordship claims. Describing his Lady's accomplishments and worth, it may be asserted of him, that ** He pours a sensibility divine Along the nerve of every feeling line ;" while, adverting to the Hecate of his pandemoni- um, be has, indeed, left *' Festering in the infamy of years/* ,t .H i- ' 18 MEMOIR OF an oflfender whom his talents have consigned to the perpetuity of reprobation. Sir Ralph Noel, the father of Lady Byron has just published a letter addressed to the Editor of the Morning Chronicle, in answer to a paragraph which appeared in that paper, stating that a con- spiracy existed against the domestic peace of Lord B . In the letter, the worthy baronet H explains a conversation he had with the Editor, and says — " I told you in the most decided man- ner, that / knew no conspiracy of the kind had ever existed, that the report was utterly false, and I gave you my word of honour that the step tak- en by Lady Byron was the result of her own un- biassed judgment, and that her parents and friends interfered only when called upon by her to aflford her their support. In the necessity of the step, indeed, her friends fully concurred, but in the sug- gestion of it they had no concern. I repeat that no conspiracy whatever existed againt Lord Byron's domestic peace." *#* The legal instrument of separation is signed by Lord and Lady Byron ; and this day^ the Noble Lord takes his departure for the Continent. Husband and wife are separated ; and the Noble Lord, we are sorry to say^ quits his country, perhaps for erer.— Morning Chron- JCLE, April 23, 1816. LORD BYRON. 19 \m To [From " Hours of Idleness."] By Lord Byron. " Oh I had my fate been joined with thint As once this pledge appearM a token ; These follies had not, then been mine, For, then, my peace had not been broken. To thee, these early faults I owe. To thee, the wise and old reproving ; They know my sins, but do not know, 'Twas thine to break the bonds of loving. For, once my soul like thine was pure. And all its raising fires could smother ; But, now, thy vows no more endure, BestowM by thee upon another. Perhaps, his peace I could destroy, And spoil the blisses that await him Yet, let my rival smile in joy, For thy dear sake, I cannot hate him. Ah ! since thy angel form is gone, My heart no more can rest with any : But what it sought in thee alone, Attempts, alas ! to find in many. !■ ■ 20 MEMOIR OF , Then, fare thee well, deceitful maid, 'Twere vain and fruitless to regret thee ; Nor hope, nor memory yield their aid, But pride may teach me to forget thee. Yet all this giddy waste of years. This tiresome round of palling pleasures ; These varied loves, these matron's fears. These thoughtless strains to passion's meaeurf. If thou wert mine, had all been huj^h'd, This cheek now pale from early riot ; With passion's hectic ne'er had flush'd, But bloom'd in calm domestic quiet. Yes, once the rural scene was sweet, For Nature seem'd to smile before thee ; And once my breast abhor'd deceit. For then it beat but to adore thee : ^ But, now, I seek for other joys ; To think, would drive ray soul to madness: In thoughtless throngs, and empty noise, I conquer half my bosom's sadness. Yet, even in these, a thought will steal In spite of every vain endeavour ; And fiends might pity what I feel, To know, that thou art lost for ever." • The British Critic (volume xxxiii. psge 4t0.) thus speaks of Lord Byron's *' English Bards^ and Scotch Beviezs^ers*^* tORD BYRON. 21 " Since the time of the Baviad, we have not met with a production combining so much severi- ty with so much genuine wit, humour, and real tal- ent. If we, however, had possessed the opportu- nity, we should certainly have pleaded very pow- erfully in behalf of one or two, who are lashed with more bitterness than justice ; but, on the whole, it must be confessed, that truth is on the side of the author. Nothing can be more certain, than that genuine taste was once mere in danger, and high commendation and great popularity have attended certain poetical productions, which would hardly endure the test of sound and honest criticism. " We shall enter into no detail of this poem, because it will be universally read ; but we think it necessary to subjoin a specimen, in justification of what we have said above. There is exagger- ation in the following passage, but its poetical merit is singular.'* i -I k? " Health to Great Jeffrey ! Heaven preserve hii life, To flourish on the fertile shores of Fife, And guard it sacred in his future wars, Since authors sometimes seek the field of Mars, Can none remember that eventful day, That ever glorious, almost fatal fray, When Little's ieadless pistol met his eye, And Bow-street myrmidons stood laup-hino- hv ? m ■■n . j;.^iJ«a5«»^ i J, ,-. 4, Mfr_^rf**^^.i^,. I» H 22 MEMOIR OF LORD BYRON. Oh ! day disastrous ! on her firm ect rock, Dunedin'e castle felt a sacred bhock * Dark roU'd the sympathetic waves of Forth, Low groanM the startled whirlwinds of the North ; Tweed ruffled half his waves to form a tear, The other half purfucd its calm career ; Arthur's steep summit nobbed to its base, The surly Tolbooth scarcely kept her place ; The Tolbooth felt^ — for marSle somttimes can. On such occasions, feel as much as man — The Tolbooth felt defrauded of his charms, If Jeffrey died, except with her arms : Nay, last, not least, on' that portentous morn, The sixteenth story, where himself was born, His patrimonial garret fell to ground, And pale Edina shudder'd at the sound ; StrewM wt^rc the streets around with milk-white reams, FlowM all the Canongate with inky streams ; , This of his candour seem'd the sable dew. That cf his valour showed the bloodless hue ; And all with justice deem'd the two combinM, The mingled emblems of his mighty mind. But Caledonia's Goddess hover'd o'er The field, and sav'd him from the wrath of Moore ; From either pistol snatch'd the vengeful lead^ And straight restor'd it to her favourite's "head. That head, with greater than magnetic power. Caught it, as Danac caught the golden shower, And though the thickening dross will scarce refine, Augments his ore, and is itself a mine." POEMS. ■»>'*v*#sr*^ FARE THEE WELL. Farf thee well ! and if for ever— Stili for ever, fare thee well — Even though unforgiving, never 'Gainst thee shall my heart rebel.— Would that breast were bared before tliee Where thy head so oft hath lain, While that placid sleep cam* o'er thee Which thou ne'er can'st know again : AVould that breast by thee glanc'd over, Every inmost thought could show ! Then, thou would'st at last discover 'Twas not well to spurn it so — Though the world for this commend thec- Though it smile upon the blow, Even its praises must offend thee, Founded on another's woe — Though my many faults defacM me, Could no other arm be found. Than iho one which once embrac'd me, To iniiict a ciirelet-3 wound ? r \ m' 91 :■"! t -11 24 FARE THE WELL. • Yet — oh, yet — thyself deceive not — Love may sink by slow decay, But by sudden wrench, believe not, Hearts can thus be torn away : Still thine own its life retaineth— Still niust mine — though bleeding — beat, And the undying thought which painetb Is — that we no more may meet.-— - These are words of deeper sorrow Than the wail above the dead : Both shall live — but every morrow Wake us from a widowed bed. — And when thou would'st solace gather- When our child^s first accents flow— i Wilt thou teach her to say — " Father !" Though his care she must forego ? When her little hands shall press thee — When her lip to thine is prest — Think of him whose prayer shall bless thee- Think of him thy love hath blessed. Should her lineaments resemble Those thou never m<>re may'st see- Then thy heart will softly tremble FARE THEE WELL. All my faults— perchance thou knowest— All my madness— none can know ; All my hopes— wherever thou goest— Whither— yet with thee they go— Every feeling hath been shaken, Pride— which not a world could bow- Bows to thee— by thee forsaken Even my soul forsakes me now.— But 'tis done— all words are idle- Words from me are vainer still ; But the thoughts we cannot bridle Force the way without the will.— Fare thee well !— thus disunited— Torn from every nearer tie- Seared in heart— and lone— and blighted— More than this I scarce can die.— / P^ B wn im\ Ml SKETCH FROM PRIVATE LIFE. I si" I *vr*^*^*v**v^#^*^,#s#> ** Honest-*hone8t lago I ♦* If thou bf^st a dqvil, I cannot kill thee." Shakespeare. Born in the garret, in the kitchen bred, Promoted thence to deck her mistress' head ; Next — for some gracious service unexprest, And from its wages only to be guess'd — RaisM from the toilet to the table, — where Her wondering betters wait behind her chair. With eye unmoved, and forehead unabashed. She dines from ofF the plate she lately wash'jcl. Ctuick with the tale, and ready with the lie— The genial confidante, and general spy — Who could, ye gods ! her next employment guess— An only infant's earliest governess ! She taught the child to read, and taught so well, That she herself, by teaching, learnt to spell. An adept next in penmanship she grows, As many a nameless slander deftly shows : What she had made the pupil of her art, None know — but that high Soul secured the heart, And panted for the truth it could not hear, With longing breast and undeluded ear. I thee." [AKESFEARE. A SKETCH PROM PftlVATfe LirE. FoilM was perversion by that youthful mind TE LIFE.r ^'^^ ^^'^"^^•y ^«^>*d not^Basene^s could nol blind n)eceit infect not— nor Contagion soil— * :ndulgence Weaken— nor Example spoil— W mastered Science tempt her to look down >n humbler talents with a pitying frown— or Genius swell-nor Beauty render vain- or envy ruffle to retaliate pain— Jor Fortune change-Pride raise-nor Passion bow, f«or Virtue teach austerity— till now. erenely purest of her sex that live, ^ut wanting one sWeet wcakness-to forgive '00 shockM at faults her soul can never know [he deems that all should be like her below : ' oe to all Vice, yet hardly Virtue' friend, or Virtue pardons those she would amend. ead ; rest, ;rc ihair. 5h»d, Etsh'jcl. 5 lie- lent guess — so well, spell. » 3 : the heart, ap, j But to the theme :-now laid aside too lohg, |he baleful burthen of this honest song— ■bough all her former functions are no more, k rules the circle which she served before. ' jmothers-none know why-before her quake ; daughters dread her for the mother's sake ; [early habits-those false links, which bind It times the loftiest to the meanest mind- ^ve given her power too deeply to instil, be angry essence of her deadly will ; like a snake, she steal within your walls. [ii the black slime betray her as she crawls : ' B 2 i W ]■ 111 i „ 1. i: IF 2B A SKETCH FROM PRIVATE LIFE. If, like a viper, to the heart she wind, And leave the venom there she did not find ; What marvel that this hag of hatred works Eternal evil latent as she lurks, To make a Pandemonium where she dwells, And reign the Hecate of domestic hells ? SkiliM by a touch to deepen scandal's tints "With all the kind mendacity of hints, While mingling truth with falsehood, sneers with smiles; A thread of candour with a web of wiles ; A plain blunt show of brieQy-spoken seeming, To hide her bloodless heart's soul-harden'd scheming ; A lip of lies— a face formed to conceal ; And, without feeling, mock at all who feel : With a vile mask the Gorgon would disown ; A cheek of parchment— and an eye of stone. Mark, how the channels of her yellow blood Ooze to her skin, and stagnate there to mud, Cased like the centipede in saffron mail. Or darker greenness of the scorpion's scale— (For drawn from reptiles only may we trace Congenial colours in that soul or face)— Look on her features ! and behold her mind As in a mirror of itself defined : . Look on the picture ! deem it not o'ercharged— There is no trait which might not be enlarged ;— Yet true to " Nature's journymen," who made This monster when their mistress left off trade,— This fema Where all Oh I wi Save joy a The time i Shall feel J Feel for tl And turn May the s Back on t And make As loathsc Till all th: Black — as Till thy hi And thy s Oh, mayt The widov rhen,whe Look on t Down to t Even won But for th To her th} Thy name The clima: Sxalted o' A.nd fester Mar with smiles; scheming ; 1: a; * • Dd id, ce •ged— ged ;—■ made :ade.— " A SKETCH FROM PRIVATE LIFE. 29 This female dog-star of her little aky, Where all beneath her influence droop or die. Oh I wretch without a tear — without a thought, Save joy above the ruin thou hastiWrought — The time shall come, nor long remote, when thou Shall feel far more than thou inflictest now ; Feel for thy vile self-loving self in vain, And turn thee howling in unpitied pain. May the strong curse of crushed afFections light Back on thy bosom with reflected bliglit ! And make thee in thy leprosy of mind As loathsome to thyself as to mankind I Till all thy self-thoughta curdle mto hate. Black — as thy will for others would create : Till thy hard heart be calcined into dust, And thy soul welter in its hideous crust. Oh, may thy grave be sleepless as the bed,— ^ The widowed couch of fire, that thou hast spread ! Then, when thou fain would'st weary heaven with prayer, lOok on thine earthly victims— and despair ! Down to the dust ! — and, as thou rott'st away, Iven worms shall perish on thy poisonous clay. lut for the love I bore, and still must 'lear, To her thy malice from all ties would tear — Thy name — tliy human name — to every eye The climax of all scorn should hang on high, Sxalted o'er thy less abhorred coospeers— ^nd festering in the infamy of years, March 30, 1816. b 3 ON THE STAR 09 *' THE LEGION OF HONOUR.' 1 1. Star of the brave ! — whose beam hath shed Such glory o'er the quick and dead— Thou radiant and adored deceit I Which millions rushed in arms to greet,— Wild meteor of immortal birth ! Why rise in Heaven to set on Earth. Souls of slain heroes formed thy rays ; Eternity flashed through thy blaze ; The music of thy martial sphere Was fame on high, and honour here ; And thy light broke on human eyes, Like a Volcano of the skies. 3. Like lava rolled thy stream of blood, And swept down empires with its flood ; > Earth rocked beneath thee to her base, As thou didst lighten through all space ; And the shorn Sun grew dim in air. And set while thou wert dwelling there. i STAR OF THE LEGION OS HONOUR. A. Before thee rose, and with thee grew, A rainbow of the loveliest hue. Of three bright colours,* each divine, And fit for that celestial sign ; ' For Freedom's hand had blended them, Like tints in an immortal gem. 5. One tint was of the sunbeam's dyes ; One, the blue depth of Seraph's eyes ; One, the pure Spirit's veil of white Had robed in radiance of its light : The three so mingled did beseem The texture of a heavenly dream. 6. Star of the brave ! thy ray is pale, And darkness must again prevail ! But, Oh, thou Rainbow of the free ! Our tears and blood must flow for thee. When thy bright promise fades away, Our life is but a load of clay. 7. And Freedom hallows with her tread The silent cities of the dead ; For beautiful in death are they Who proudly fall in her array ; And soon, Oh Goddess I may we be For evermore with them or thee I * The tri'Colour. 31 H ODE. *^./\r#uf*s*^^r*^**j» Oh, ehame to thee, Land of the Gaul ! Oh, shame to thy children and thee ! Unwise in thy glory, and base in thy fall, How wretched thy portion shall be ! Derision shall strike thee forlorn, A mockery that never shall die ; The curses of Hate, and the hisses of Scorn Shall burthen the winds of thy sky ; And, proud o'er thy ruin, for ever be hurPd The laughter of Triumph, the jeers of the World ! Oh, where is thy spirit of yore. The spirit that breathed in thy dead. When gallantry's star was the beacon before, And honour the passion that led ? Thy storms have awakenM their sleep, They groan from the place of their rest. And wrathfully murmur, and suddenly weep, To see the foul stain on thy breast ; For where is the glory they left thee in trust ? *Ti« scattered in darkness, "tis trampled in dust ! Go, look through the kingdoms of. earth. From Indus, all round to the Pole, And something of goodness, of honour, of worth, Sh Buti Th Abhorr Ee Stupend A prov( Whil( Wt Thy pra ' An ThoM Am Yet brig Till TheUj b! The fore Forgo The Thou tui And Butth Adv And hon And To him t And the I ODE. 33 But thou art alone in thy shame, The world cannot liken thee there ; Abhorrence and vice have disfigured thy name Beyond the low reach of compare ; Stupendous in guilt, thou shalt lend us through time A proverb, a bye-word, for treachery and crime • While conquest illumined his sword, While yet in his prowess he stood. Thy praises still fcf!lowM the steps of thy Lord, And welcomed the torrent of blood ; ThoVtyranny sat on his crown. And wither'd the nations afar. Yet bright in thy view was that Despot^s renown, Till Fortune deserted his car ; Then, back from the Chieftain thou slunkest away— The foremost to insult, the first to betray ! Forgot were the feats he had done. The ir\ borne in thy cause ; Thou turned'si / Vip a new rising sun, And waft oti^i songs of applause ; But the storm was beginning to lour, Adversity clouded his beam : And honour and faith were the brag of an hour, And loyalty^s self but a dream : To him thou hadst banished thy vows were restored ; And the first that had scoff 'd, «ere the first that ador'd ! f! I I , ! /i f/l 34 ODE. What tumult thus bQrthenA the air, What throng thus encircles his thrdbe ? 'Tis the shout of delight, His the millions that SWeaT His sceptre shall rule them alon<^. Reverses shall brighten their zeal, Misfortune shall hallow his name, And the worll that pursues him shall mournfully feel How quenchless the spirit and flame That Frenchmen will breathe, when their hearts are on fire. For the Hero they love, and the Chief they admire ! Their hero has rushed to the field ; His laurels are covered with shade — But where is the spirit that never should yield, The loyalty never to fade ! In a moment desertion and guile '^ Abandon^ him up to the foe ; The dastards that flourish'd and grew at bis smile, Forsook and renounced him in woe ; And the millions that swore they would perish to save, Beheld him a fugitive, captive, and slave ! The Savage all wild in his glen Is nobler and better than thou ; Thou standest a wonder, a marvel to men. Such perfidy blackens thy brow I If thou wert the place of my birth, At once from thv arms would I sever : — ■ - - at swear ifully feel earts are on admire ! Id, ODE. Vd fly to the uttermost ends of the earth, And quit thee for ever and ever ; And thinking of thee in my long after-years, Should but kindle my blubhes and waken my tears. Oh, shame to thee, land of the Gaul ! Oh, shame to thy children and thee ! Unwise in thy glory and base in thy fall. How wretched thy portion shall be ! Derision shall strike thee forlorn, A mockery that never shall die ; The curses of Hate and the hisses of Scorn Shall burthen the winds of the sky ; And proud o»er thy ruin for ever be hurPd The laughter of Triumph, the jeers of the World • 3? n smile, ish to save, ^ MADAM LAV ALETTE. #>^^^^ LtT Edinburgh Critics overwhelm with their praises Their madame de St a el, and their famM L'Epin asse ; Like a meteor at best, proud Phibsophy blazes, And the fame of a Wit is as brittle as glass : But checring^s the beam, and unfading the splendour Of thy torch, Wedded Love ! and it never has yet Shone with lustre more holy, more pure, or more tender, Than it sheds on the name of the fair Lavalettb. Then fill high the wine-cup, e'en Virtue shall bless it, And hallow the goblet which foams to her name ; The warm lip of Beauty shall piously press it, And Hymen shall honour the pledge to her fame : To the health of the Woman, who freedom and life too Has risk'd for her Husband, we'll pay the just debt ; And hail with applauses the Heroine and Wife too, The constant, the noble, the fair Lavalette. Her foes have awarded in impotent malice, To thoir captive a doom, which all Europe abhors. And turns from the Stairs of the Priest-haunted palace, Wliile those who replaced them there, blush for their | cause. But, in ages to come, when the blood-tarnishM glory Of Dukes, and of Marshals, in darkness hath set, Hearts shall throb, eyes shall glisten, at reading the story] Of the fond self-devotiou of fair Layalette. FAREV/ELL TO FRANCE. Farewell to the Land, where the gloom of my glory Arose and o'ershadovved the earth with her name :— She abandons me now, — but the page of her story, The brightest, or blackest, is filled with my fame. I liave warred with a world which vanquished me only When the meteor of Conquest allured me too far, — llhave coped with the Nations which dread me thus lonely, The last single Captive to millions in war ! iFarewell to thee, France-when thy diadem crownM me, I made thee the gem and the wonder of earth. iBut thy weakness deci-ees I should leave as I found thee, Decayed in thy glory, and sunk in thy worth. )h ! for the veteran hearts that were wasted In strife with the storm, when their battles were won.- Then the Eagle, whose gaze in that moment was blasted, Had still soared with eyes fixed on Victory's Sun ; ^'arewell to thee, France— but when Liberty rallies Once more in thy regions, remember me tliea— The Violet grows in the depth of thy valleys. Though withered, thy tears will unfold it again— Vet, yet I may baffle the hosts that surround us. And yet may thy heart leap awake to my voice- There are links which myst break in the chain that has bound us. i I J. " 'hen tmn ihee and call off the Chief of thy choiee ! WATERLOO. #^#«r./N#s«Nr^.^««^ I? \- Wk do not curse thee, "VTaterloo ; Though freedom's blood thy plain bedew j There 'twas shed, but is not gunk- Rising from each gory trunk— Xike the water-spout from ocean, With a strong and growing motion- It soars, and mingles in the air, With that of lost liABEDOYBRE— With that of him whose honoured grave Contains the " bravest of the brave ;»' A crimson cloud it spreads and glows, But shall return to whence it rose ; When His full Hwill burst asur.der— Never yet was heard such thunder As then shall shake the world with wonder- Never yet was seen such lightning As o'er heaven shall then be bright'ning J The Chief has fallen, but not by you, Vanquishers of Waterloo I • When the soldier -citizen. Swayed not o'er his fellow men- Save in deeds that led them on Whert glory smil'd on JFrcedom's sou-* bedew ; rave 1 wonder— t'ning \ ou. wa- WATERtOO. 39 Who of all the despots banded, With that youthful chief competed ? Who could "boart o>er Frapce defeated * Till lone tyranny commanded ? TilL goaded by ambition's sting, The Hero sunk into the King ? Then he fell— so perish all, Who would men by man enthral ! And thou too of the snow-white plume! Whose realm refusM thee evn a tomb ;* Better hadst thou still been leading France o'er hosts of hirelings bleeding, Than sold thyself to death and s^ame ^ For ^ meanly royal name ; Such as he of Naples wears, Who thy blood-bought title bears.-^ ^ • Little didst thou deem when- dashing On thy war-horse through the ranks, Like a stream which bursts its banks. While helmets cleft and sabres clashing* Shone and shivered fast around thee— * Of the fate at last which found thee J Was that haughty plume laid low • By a slave's dishonest blow ? Once it onward bore the brave, Like foam upon the highest wave.- 1 8iau''::svuZ:''' "" "'' '^ '''^ '^^ '-• /-- \ 40 WATERLOO. m:* And the battle's wreck lay thickest, StrewM beneath the advancing banner Of the Eagle's burning crest— (There with thunder-clouds to fan her, Who could then her wing arrest- Victory beaming from her breast ?) While the broken line enlarging Fell or fled along the plain ; There be sure was Murat charging ; There he ne'er shall diarge again I O'er glories gone, the invaders march, Weeps triumph o'er each levelled ar a-r- But let Freedom rejoice, With her heart in her voice ; But her hand on her sword, Doubly shall she be adored. France hath twice too well been taugh* The " moral lesson" dearly bought— Her safety sits not on a throne. With Capet or Napoleon ; But in equal rights and laws. Hearts and hands in one great cause- Freedom, such as God hath given Unto all beneath his heaven, With their breath, and from their birth, Though guilt would sweep it from the earth ; There, where death's brief pang was quickest, IT If WATERLOO. [With a fierce and lavish hand, I Scattering nations* wealth like sand ; iPouring nations' blood like water, jIn imperial seas pf slaughter I [But the heart, and the mind, Lnd the voice of mankind Shall arise in communion— Lftd who shall resist that proud union 9 jThe time is past when swords subdued--* [an may die— the souPs renewed ; [Even in this low world of care, ?'reedom ne'er shall want an heir ; [illions breathe, but to inherit [er unconquerable spirit — When once more her hosts assembljB jet the tyrants only tremble ;— Smile they at this idle threat ? 'rii^son tears will follow yet, 41 1 ^ , THE END.