The luckless Israelites, when taken Oh! had they sung in notes like these, They might have set their hearts at ease, But if I scribble longer now, The deuce a soul will stay to read; Therefore, farewell, old Granta's spires! 1806. ON A DISTANT VIEW OF THE VILLAGE AND SCHOOL OF HARROW ON THE HILL. ."-VIRGIL. "Oh! mihi præteritos referat si Jupiter annos."— YE scenes of my childhood, whose loved recollection Where fancy yet joys to retrace the resemblance Again I revisit the hills where we sported, The streams where we swam, and the fields where we fought; The school where, loud warn'd by the bell, we resorted, To pore o'er the precepts by pedagogues taught. 7 ["My school-friendships were with me passions (for I was always violent), but I do not know that there is one which has endured (to be sure, some have been cut short by death) till now."-Byron Diary, 1821.] Again I behold where for hours I have ponder'd, I once more view the room, with spectators surrounded, Or, as Lear, I pour'd forth the deep imprecation,' Ye dreams of my boyhood, how much I regret you! To Ida full oft may remembrance restore me,' But if, through the course of the years which await me, I will say, while with rapture the thought shall elate me, 1806. 8 [A tomb in the churchyard at Harrow was so well known to be his favourite resting-place, that the boys called it "Byron's Tomb:" and here, they say, he usel to sit for hours, wrapt up in thought.-MOORE.] 9 Mossop, a contemporary of Garrick, famous for his performance of Zanga. 1 [For the display of his declamatory powers, on the speech-days, he selected always the most vehement passages; such as the speech of Zanga over the body of Alonzo, and Lear's address to the storm.-MOORE.] 2 [In the private volume the two last stanzas ran "I thought this poor brain, fever'd even to madness, But the drops which now flow down this bosom of sadness, "Sweet scenes of my childhood! your blest recollection In torrents the tears of my warmest affection, TO M. OH! did those eyes, instead of fire, For thou art form'd so heavenly fair, When Nature stamp'd thy beauteous birth, The skies might claim thee for their own: Therefore, to guard her dearest work, These might the boldest sylph appal, But who can dare thine ardent gaze? "Tis said that Berenice's hair In stars adorns the vault of heaven; For did those eyes as planets roll, Thy sister-lights would scarce appear: E'en suns, which systems now control, Would twinkle dimly through their sphere.' 3Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do intreat her eyes To twinkle in their spheres till they return."- 1806. TO M. S. G. WHEN I dream that you love me, you'll surely forgive; For in visions alone your affection can live, Then, Morpheus! envelope my faculties fast, Should the dream of to-night but resemble the last, They tell us that slumber, the sister of death, Mortality's emblem is given; To fate how I long to resign my frail breath, If this be a foretaste of heaven! Ah! frown not, sweet lady, unbend your soft brow, If I sin in my dream, I atone for it now, Though in visions, sweet lady, perhaps you may smile, When dreams of your presence my slumbers beguile, To awake will be torture sufficient. TO WOMAN. WOMAN! experience might have told me Thy firmest promises are nought; But, placed in all thy charms before me, All I forget, but to adore thee. Oh memory! thou choicest blessing When join'd with hope, when still possessing; Woman, that fair and fond deceiver, TO MARY, ON RECEIVING HER PICTURE.5 THIS faint resemblance of thy charms, Here I can trace the locks of gold Here I can trace-ah, no! that eye, Must all the painter's art defy, And bid him from the task retire. Here I behold its beauteous hue; But where's the beam so sweetly straying, Which gave a lustre to its blue, Like Luna o'er the ocean playing? The last line is almost a literal translation from a Spanish proverb. 5 [Of this "Mary," who is not to be confounded with the heiress of Annesley, or "Mary" of Aberdeen, all I can record is, that she was of an humble, if not equivocal, station in life, and that she had long light golden hair, of which he used to show a lock, as well as her picture, among his friends.-MOORE.] [But where's the beam of soft desire ? Which gave a lustre to its blue, Love, only love, could e'er inspire.-First edit.] |