host of their enraged assailanta ?

17.

And though some trifling share of praise,
To cheer my last declining days,

To me were doubly dear;
Whilst blessing your beloved name,
I'd wave at once a poet's fame,
To prove a prophet here.

"But if any old lady, knight, priest, or physician,

Should condemn me for printing a second edition;
If good Madam Squintum my work should abuse,
May I venture to give her a smack of my muse?"
Ansley's New Bath Guide, p. 169.

CANDOUR Compels me, BECHER ! to commend
The verse which blends the censor with the friend.
Your strong, yet just, reproof extorts applause
From me, the heedless and imprudent † cause.
For this wild error which pervades my strain,
I sue for pardon,-must I sue in vain ?

The wise sometimes from Wisdom's ways depart;
Can youth then hush the dictates of the heart?
Precepts of prudence curb, but can't control,
The fierce emotions of the flowing soul.
When love's delirium haunts the glowing mind,
Limping Decorum lingers far behind :
Vainly the dotard mends her prudish pace,
Outstript and vanquish'd in the mental chase.
The young, the old, have worn the chains of love:
Let those they ne'er confined my lay reprove:
Let those whose souls contemn the pleasing power
Their censures on the hapless victim shower.
Oh! how I hate the nerveless, frigid song,
The ceaseless echo of the rhyming throng,
Whose labour'd lines in chilling numbers flow,
To paint a pang the author ne'er can know !
The artless Helicon I boast is youth ;—
My lyre, the heart; my muse, the simple truth.
Far be 't from me the "virgin's mind" to "taint :"
Seduction's dread is here no slight restraint.
The maid whose virgin breast is void of guile,
Whose wishes dimple in a modest smile,
Whose downcast eye disdains the wanton leer,
Firm in her virtue's strength, yet not severe-
She whom a conscious grace shall thus refine
Will ne'er be "tainted" by a strain of mine.
But for the nymph whose premature desires
Torment the bosom with unholy fires,
No net to snare her willing heart is spread;
She would have fallen, though she ne'er had read.
For me, I fain would please the chosen few,
Whose souls, to feeling and to nature true,
Will spare the childish verse, and not destroy
The light effusions of a heedless boy.
I seek not glory from the senseless crowd;
Of fancied laurels I shall ne'er be proud;
Their warmest plaudits I would scarcely prize,
Their sneers or censures I alike despise.

November 26, 1806.

These dnes were printed in the private volume, and in the fret

adition of Hours of Idleness, but afterwards omitted. ↑ Imprudent. In the private volume, unworthy. Wild. Private volume, sole.

GRANT A.

A MEDLEY.

«'Αργυρέαις λόγχαισι μάχου καὶ πάντα Κρατήσεις.

1.

OH! Could LE SAGE'st demon's gift
Be realized at my desire,
This night my trembling form he'd lift
To place it on St. Mary's spire.

2.

Then would, unroof'd, old Granta's halls
Pedantic inmates full display;
Fellows who dream on lawn or stalls,
The price of venal votes to pay.

3.

Then would I view each rival wight,

Petty and Palmerston survey; Who canvass there with all their might, Against the next elective day.

4.

Lo! candidates and voters liet

All lull'd in sleep, a goodly number!

A race renown'd for piety,

Whose conscience won't disturb their slumber.

5.

Lord H, indeed, may not demur,
Fellows are sage reflecting men :
They know preferment can occur
But very seldom, now and then.

6.

They know the chancellor has got Some pretty livings in disposal: Each hopes that one may be his lot, And therefore smiles on his proposal.

7.

Now from the soporific scene§

I'll turn mine eye, as night grows later To view unheeded and unseen

The studious sons of Alma Mater.
8.

There, in apartments small and damp,
The candidate for college prizes
Sits poring by the midnight lamp;
Goes late to bed, yet early rises.

9.

He surely well deserves to gain them,
With all the honours of his college,
Who, striving hardly to obtain them,
Thus seeks unprofitable knowledge :
10.

Who sacrifices hours of rest
To scan precisely metres attic;
Or agitates his anxious breast

In solving problems mathematic:

• The motto was not given in the private volume.

The Diable Boiteux of Le Sage, where Asmodeus, the demon, places Don Cleofas on an elevated situation, and unroofs the houses for inspection.

Lo! candidates and voters lie, &c. The fourth and fifth stangas, which are given here as they were printed in the Hours of Idleness, ras as follows in the private volume :

"One on his power and place depends,

The other on the Lord knows what;
Each to some eloquence pretends,

Though neither will convince by that,
"The first, indeed, may not demur."

From the soporific scene. In the private volume, From corruption's shameless scene.

11.

Who reads false quantities in Sele,*
Or puzzles o'er the deep triangle;
Deprived of many a wholesome meal;

In barbarous Latinf doom'd to wrangle:

12.

Renouncing every pleasing page From authors of historic use; Preferring to the letter'd sage

The square of the hypothenuse.

13.

Still, harmless are these occupations,

That hurt none but the hapless student, Compared with other recreations,

Which bring together the imprudent;
14.

Whose daring revels shock the sight,
When vice and infamy combine,
When drunkenness and dice invite,
As every sense is steep'd in wine.
15.

Not so the methodistic crew,

Who plans of reformation lay;
In humble attitude they sue,

And for the sins of others pray :
16.

Forgetting that their pride of spirit,
Their exultation in their trial,
Detracts most largely from the merit
Of all their boasted self-denial.

17.

"T is morn: from these I turn my sight. What scene is this which meets the eye? A numerous crowd, array'd in white,§ Across the green in numbers fly.

18.

Loud rings in air the chapel bell;

'T is hush'd:-what sounds are these I hear?

The organ's soft celestial swell

Rolls deeply on the list'ning ear.

19.

To this is join'd the sacred song,
The royal minstrel's hallow'd strain;
Though he who hears the music long
Will never wish to hear again.

20.

Our choir would scarcely be excused,
Even as a band of raw beginners;

All mercy now must be refused

To such a set of croaking sinners. 21.

If David, when his toils were ended,

Had heard these blockheads sing before him, To us his Psalms had ne'er descended,

In furious mood he would have tore 'em.

22.

The luckless Israelites, when taken By some inhuman tyrant's order, Were asked to sing, by joy forsaken, On Babylonian river's border.

Sele's publication on Greek metres displays considerable talent and ingenuity, but, as might be expected in so difficult a work, is not remarkable for accuracy.

In the private volume, "Sele's publication on Greek metres is not remarkable for its accuracy."

†The Latin of the schools is of the canine species, and not very intelligible.

In the private volume, "Every Cambridge man will assent to this. The Latin of the schools is almost unintelligible."

The discovery of Pythagoras, that the square of the hypothen use is equal to the squares of the other two sides of a right-angled triangle. On a saint's day, the students wear surplices in chapel.

Lachin y. Gair, or, as it is pronounced in the Erse, Lock w Garr, towers proudly pre-eminent in the Northern Highlands, near lover. cauld. One of our modern tourists mentions it as the highes: mountain, perhaps, in Great Britain. Be this as it may, it is certainly one of the most sublime and pictures que among our Caledonian Alps." Its appearance is of a dusky hue, but the summit is the seal of eternal snows. Near Lachin 7. Gair I spent some of the early part of my life, the recollection of which has given birth to the foflowing stanzas.

"Shades of the dead! have I not heard your voices Rise on the night-rolling breath of the gale?"

Surely the soul of the hero rejoices,

And rides on the wind o'er his own Highland vale. Round Loch na Garr while the stormy mist gathers, Winter presides in his cold icy car:

Clouds there encircle the forms of my fathers;

They dwell in the tempests of dark Loch na Garr. 4.

"Ill starr'd, though brave, did no visions foreboding
Tell you that fate had forsaken your cause?"
Ah! were you destined to die at Culloden.||
Victory crown'd not your fall with applause;

If I scribble longer. In the private volume, If I write much longe † First published in Hours of Idleness.

ation (according to the Scotch) is known by the orthography. This word is erronoously pronounced plad: the proper pronunci

of whom fought for the unfortunate Prince Charles, better known by the SI allude here to my maternal ancestors, "the Gordons," many as attachment, to the Stuarts. George, the second earl of Huntley name of the Pretender. This branch was nearly allied by blood, as well married the Princess Annabella Stuart, daughter of James the First of Scotland. By her he left four sons: the third, Sir William Gordon, I have the honour to claim as one of my progenitors.

but, as many fell in the insurrection, I have used the name of the prin Whether any perished in the battle of Culloden, I am not certain; cipal action," pars pro toto,"

Still were you happy in death's earthy slumber,
You rest with your clan in the caves of Braemar ;*
The pibrocht resounds, to the piper's loud number,
Your deeds on the echoes of dark Loch na Garr.

5.

Years have roll'd on Loch na Garr, since I left you,
Years must elapse ere I tread you again:
Nature of verdure and flow'rs has hereft you,
Yet still are you dearer than Albion's plain.
England! thy beauties are tame and domestic

To one who has roved on the mountains afar.
Oh for the crags that are wild and majestic!
The steep frowning glories of dark Loch na Garr!

Mar

TO ROMANCE.

1.

PARENT of golden dreams, Romance!
Auspicious queen of childish joys,
Who lead'st along, in airy dance,

Thy votive train of girls and boys;
At length, in spells no longer bound,
I break the fetters of my youth;
No more I tread thy mystic round,

But leave thy realms for those of Truth. 2.

And yet 't is hard to quit the dreams

Which haunt the unsuspicious soul,
Where every nymph a goddess seems,
Whose eyes through rays immortal roll;
While Fancy holds her boundless reign,
And all assume a varied hue;
When virgins seem no longer vain,

And even woman's smiles are true.
3.

And must we own thee but a name,
And from thy hall of clouds descend?
Nor find a sylph in every dame,

A Pylades in every friend?
But leave at once thy realms of air
To mingling bands of fairy elves?
Confess that woman's false as fair,

And friends have feeling for-themselves?
4.

With shame I own I've felt thy sway;
Repentant, now thy reign is o'er:
No more thy precepts I obey,

No more on fancied pinions soar.
Fond fool! to love a sparkling eye,
And think that eye to truth was dear;
To trust a passing wanton's sigh,

And melt beneath a wanton's tear.
5.

Romance! disgusted with deceit,

Far from thy motley court I fly,
Where Affectation holds her seat,
And sickly Sensibility;
Whose silly tears can never flow
For any pangs excepting thine;
Who turns aside from real wo,

To steep in dew thy gaudy shrine

A tract of the Highlands so called. There is also a Castle of Brae

Now join with sable Sympathy,
With cypress crown'd, array'd in weeds,
Who heaves with thee her simple sigh,
Whose breast for every bosom bleeds;
And call thy sylvan female choir,

To mourn a swain for ever gone,
Who once could glow with equal fire,
But bends not now before thy throne.

7.

Ye genial nymphs, whose ready tears
On all occasions swiftly flow;
Whose bosoms heave with fancied fears
With fancied flames and phrensy glow;
Say, will you mourn my absent name,
Apostate from your gentle train?
An infant bard at least may claim
From you a sympathetic strain.

8.

Adieu, fond race! a long adieu!

The hour of fate is hovering nigh;
E'en
'en now the gulf appears in view,
Where unlamented you must lie:
Oblivion's blackening lake is seen,

Convulsed by gales you cannot weather; Where you, and eke your gentle queen, Alas! must perish altogether.

ELEGY ON NEWSTEAD ABBEY.*

"It is the voice of years that are gone! they roll before me with al their deeds."-Ossian.

1.

NEWSTEAD! fast-falling, once resplendent dome! Religion's shrine! repentant HENRY's pride! Of warriors, monks, and dames the cloister'd tomb, Whose pensive shades around thy ruins glide,

2.

Hail to thy pile! more honour'd in thy fall

Than modern mansions in their pillar'd state; Proudly majestic frowns thy vaulted hall, Scowling defiance on the blasts of fate.

3.

No mail-clad serfs,§ obedient to their lord,
In grim array the crimson cross|| demand;
Or gay assemble round the festive board

Their chief's retainers, an immortal band:
4.

Else might inspiring Fancy's magic eye
Retrace their progress through the lapse of time;
Marking each ardent youth, ordain'd to die,
A votive pilgrim in Judea's clime.

5.

But not from thee, dark pile! departs the chief;
His feudal realm in other regions lay:
In thee the wounded conscience courts relief,
Retiring from the garish blaze of day.

6.

Yes, in thy gloomy cells and shades profound
The monk abjured a world he ne'er could view;
Or blood-stain'd guilt repenting solace found,
Or innocence from stern oppression flew.

As one poem on this subject is printed in the beginning, the author had, originally, no intention of inserting the following: it is now added at the particular request of some friends. See p. 383 of this edition. 1 The motto was not given in the private volume.

Henry II. founded Newstead soon after the murder of Thomas à Becket. 5 This word is used by Walter Scott in his poem, "The Wild II inteman:" synonymous with vassal.

The red cross was the badge of the crusader.

7.

A monarch bade thee from that wild arise,
Where Sherwood's outlaws once were wont to prowl;
And superstition's crimes, of various dyes,
Sought shelter in the priest's protecting cowl.

8.

Where now the grass exhales a murky dew, The humid pall of life-extinguish'd clay, In sainted fame the sacred fathers grew, Nor raised their pious voices but to pray.

9.

Where now the bats their wavering wings extend
Soon as the gloaming* spreads her waning shade,t
The choir did oft their mingling vespers blend,
Or matin orisons to Mary paid.

10.

Years roll on years; to ages, ages yield; Abbots to abbots, in a line, succeed: Religion's charter their protecting shield Till royal sacrilege their doom decreed.

11.

One holy HENRY§ reared the Gothic walls, And bade the pious inmates rest in peace; Another HENRY the kind gift recalls,

And bids devotion's hallow'd echoes cease. 12.

Vain is each threat or supplicating prayer;
He drives them exiles from their blest abode,
To roam a dreary world in deep despair-
No friend, no home, no refuge, but their God.

13.

Hark how the hall, resounding to the strain,
Shakes with the martial music's novel din!
The heralds of a warrior's haughty reign,
High crested banners, wave thy walls within.
14.

Of changing sentinels the distant hum,

The mirth of feasts, the clang of burnish'd arms, The braying trumpet and the hoarser drum,

Unite in concert with increased alarms.

15.

An abbey once, a regal fortress|| now,
Encircled by insulting rebel powers,
War's dread machines o'erhang thy threatning brow,
And dart destruction in sulphureous showers.

16.

Ah vain defence! the hostile traitor's siege,
Though oft repulsed by guile, o'ercomes the brave;
His thronging foes oppress the faithful liege,
Rebellion's recking standards o'er him wave.
17.
Not unavenged the raging baron yields;

The blood of traitors smears the purple plain:
Unconquer'd still, his falchion there he wields,
And days of glory yet for him remain.

18.

Still in that hour the warrior wish'd to strew
Self-gather'd laurels on a self-sought grave;
But Charles' protecting genius hither flew,

The monarch's friend, the monarch's hope, to save.

As" gloaming," the Scottish word for twilight, is far more poetical, and has been recommended by many eminent literary men, particularly by Dr. Moore in his Letters to Burns, I have ventured to use it on account of its harmony.

+ Gloaming spreads her waning shade. In the private volume, TwiAight winds a waning shade.

The priory was dedicated to the Virgin.

19.

Trembling, she snatch'd him* from th' unequal strife In other fields the torrent to repel;

For nobler combats, here, reserved his life,
To lead the band where godlike FALKLAND† fell
20.

From thee, poor pile! to lawless plunder given,
While dying groans their painful requiem sound,
Far different incense now ascends to heaven,
Such victims wallow on the gory ground.

21.

There many a pale and ruthless robber's corse,
Noisome and ghast, defiles thy sacred sod;
O'er mingling man, and horse commix'd with horse
Corruption's heap, the savage spoilers trod.

22.

Graves, long with rank and sighing weeds o'erspread,
Ransack'd, resign perforce their mortal mould :
From ruffian fangs escape not e'en the dead,
Raked from repose in search for buried gold.

23.

Hush'd is the harp, unstrung the warlike lyre, The minstrel's palsied hand reclines in death; No more he strikes the quivering chords with fire Or sings the glories of the martial wreath.

24.

At length the sated murderers, gorged with prey
Retire; the clamour of the fight is o'er;
Silence again resumes her awful sway,
And sable Horror guards the massy door.

25.

Here Desolation holds her dreary court; What satellites declare her dismal reign. Shrieking their dirge, ill-omen'd birds resort, To flit their vigils in the hoary fane.

26.

Soon a new morn's restoring beams dispel
The clouds of anarchy from Britain's skies
The fierce usurper seeks his native hell,
And Nature triumphs as the tyrant dies.
27.

With storms she welcomes his expiring groan
Whirlwinds, responsive, greet his labouring treath;
Earth shudders as her caves receive his bones,
Loathings the offering of so dark a death.

28.

The legal ruler now resumes the helm,

He guides through gentle seas the prow of state;
Hope cheers, with wonted smiles, the peaceful realm,
And heals the bleeding wounds of wearied hate.
29.

The gloomy tenants, Newstead! of thy cells,
Howling, resign their violated nest;
Again the master on his tenure dwells,

Enjoy'd, from absence, with enraptur'd zest.

• Lord Byron and his brother: Sir William held high command in the royal army the former was general in chief in Ireland, lieutenant of the Tower, and governor to James, Duke of York, afterwards the unhappy James 11.; the latter had a principal share in many actions.-Vide Clarendon, Hume, &c.

Lucius Cary, Lord Viscount Falkland, the most accomplished man of his age, was killed at the battle of Newberry,charging in the ranks of Lord Byron's regiment of cavalry.

1 Martial. The private volume reads laurell'd.

Sable Horror. In the private volume. Horror stalking. This is an historical fact. A violent tempest occurred immediately subsequent to the death or interment of Cromwell, which occasioned many disputes between his partisans and the cavaliere: both interpreted