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So just applause her honourd name shall lose, My voice was heard again, though not so loud ;
My page, though nameless, never disavow'd,
And now at once I tear the veil away: And rise more worthy, Albion, of thy name!
Cheer on the pack! the quarry stands at bay, What Athens was in science, Rome in power,
Unscared by all the din of MELBOURNE-house, What Tyre appear'd in her meridian hour,
By LAMBE's resentment, or by Holland's spouse, Tis ibine at once, fair Albion, to have been,
By Jeffrey's harmless pistol, Hallam's rage, Earth's chief dictatress, Ocean's mighty queen :
Edina's brawny sons and brimstone page.
Our men in buckram shall have blows enough,
Who conquers me shall find a stubborn foe.
The time hath been, when no harsh sound would fall With warning ever scoffd at, 'till too late;
From lips that now may seem imbued with gall, To themes less lofty still my lay confine,
Nor fools nor follies tempt me to despise | And urge thy bards to gain a name like thine. The meanest thing that crawld beneath my eyes :
But now, so callous grown, so changed since youth, Then, hapless Bricain! be thy rulers blest,
I've learned to think and sternly speak the truth; The senate's oracles, the people's jest!
Learn'd to deride the critic's starch decree, Sull bear thy motley orators dispense
And break him on the wheel he meant for me; The flowers of rhetoric, though not of sense,
To spurn the rod a scribbler bids me kiss, | While CANNING's colleagues hate him for his wit,
Nor care if courts and crowds applaud or hiss : And old dame PORTLAND Glls the place of Pitt.
Nay, more, though all my rival rhymesters frown, Yet once again adieu ! ere this the sail
I too can hunt a poetaster down; That wafls me hence is shivering in the gale:
And, arm'd in proof, the gauntlet cast at once And Afric's coast and Calpe's ? adverse height,
To Scotch marauder, and to southern dunce. Ånd Stamboul's 3 minarets must greet my sight:
Thus much I've dared to do ; how far my lay Thence shall I stray through beauty's 4 nalive clime,
Hath wrong'd these righteous times, let others say; Wbere kaffs is clad in rocks, and crown'd with snows
This let the world, which knows not how to spare, sublime.
Yet rarely blames unjustly, now declare.
I HAVE been informed, since the present edition went Waste useless thousands on their Phidian freaks,
to the press, that my trusty and well beloved cousins, Misshapen monuments and maim'd antiques;
the Edinburgh Reviewers, are preparing a most veheAnd make their grand saloons a general mart
ment critique on my poor, gentle, unresisting muse, | For all the mutilated blocks of art:
whom they have already so bedeviled with their ungodly Of Dardan tours let dilettanti tell,
I suppose I must say of Jeffrey as Sir Andrew AGUB
CHEEK saith, «an I had known he was so cunning of Tbus far I've held my updisturb'd career,
fence, I had seen him damned ere I had fought him.» Prepared for rancour, steel'd 'gainst selfish fear : What a pity it is that I shall be beyond the Bosphorus This thing of rhyme I ne'er disdain'd to own
before the next number has passed the Tweed! But Though not obtrusive, yet not quite unknown: yet I hope to light my pipe with it in Persia. 1 ' A friend of mine being asked why his Grace of P. was likened
My northern friends have accused me, with justice, of to as old woman 1 replied, " he sapposed it was bocause he was past personality towards their great literary Anthropophagus, bearia
JEFFREY: but what else was to be done with him and his • Calpe is the ancient same of Gibraltar,
dirty pack, who feed « by lying and slandering,» and • Starboal is the Tarkish word for Constantinople. • Georgia, remarkable for the beauty of its inhabitants.
slake their thirst by « evil-speaking ?» I have adduced Noapt Caucasas.
facts already well known, and of Jeffrey's mind I have * Lord Valentia (whose tremendous travels are forthcoming. stalcd my free opinion; nor has he thence sustained with dee decorations, graphical, topographical, and typographical) any injury: what scavenger was ever soiled by being dessed, co sir doas Corne odlucky suit, that Doors Satire pre-pelted with mud ? It may be said that I quit England realed his parchase of the • Stranger in Ireland.»-Ob fie, my Lord! bas your lordship no more feeling for a fellow-tourist? but because I have censured there « persons of honour and two of a inade.. they say, etc.
wit about town;» but I am coming back again, and | Lord Ecars would fain persuade us that all the figures, with their vengeance will keep hot till my return.
Those and witboat noses, in his stone-shop, are the work of Phidias!
who know me can testify that my motives for leaving *Credar Jadæus.. ' Ir Gent's Topography of Troy and Ithaca cannot fail to ensure England are very different from fears, literary or perthe approbation of every man possessed of classical tasto, as well sonal; those who do not, may one day be convinced. ker le information Mr G. conveys to the mind of the reader, as for the ability and research the respective works display.
1 Published to the Second Edition.
Tantæne animis cælestibus irae !
Since the publication of this thing, my name has not with him, treated me with kindness when a boy, and been concealed; I have been mostly in London, ready whatever he may say or do, « pour on, I will endure.» to answer for my transgressions, and in daily expecta- I have nothing further to add, save a general note of tion of sundry cartels; but, alas! « The age of chi-thanksgiving to readers, purchasers, and publisher; and, valry is over ;» or, in the vulgar tongue, there is no in the words of Scort, I wish spirit now-a-days.
• To all and each a fair good nicht, There is a youth yclept llewson Clarke (subaudi,
And rosy dreams and slumbers light.» Esq.), a sizer of Emanuel College, and I believe a denizen of Berwick upon Tweed, whom I have introduced in these pages to much better company than he has been the following Lines were written by Mr FırZGERALD, in accustomed to meet; he is, notwithstanding, a very sad
Copy of Englisu BARDS AND Scotch REVIEWERS:dog, and, for no reason that I can discover, except a
I find Lord Byron scorns my musepersonal quarrel with a bear, kept by me at Cambridge
Our fates are ill agreed ! io sit for a fellowship, and whom the jealousy of his His verse is safe—I can't abuse Trinity contemporaries prevented from success, has been
Those lines I never read. abusing me, and, what is worse, the defenceless innocent
W. F. F. above mentioned, in the Satirist, for one year and some months. I am utterly unconscious of having given him His Lordship accidentally met with the Copy, and any provocation; indeed I am guiltless of having hcard
subjoined the following pungent Reply:his name,
till it was coupled with the Satirist. He has, what's writ on me, cried Fiuz, I never read;therefore, no reason to complain, and I dare say that, what's wrote by thee, dear Fitz, vone will indeed. like Sir Fretful Plagiary, he is rather pleased than otherwise. I have now mentioned all who have done me the The case stands simply thus, then, honest Fil :honour to notice me and mine, that is, my bear and my or rather would be, if, for time to come,
Thou and thine enemies are fairly quits, book, except the editor of the Satirist, who, it seems, is a gentleman. God wot! I wish he could impart a little They luckily were deaf, or thou wert dumb, of his gentility to his subordinate scribblers. I hear But, to their pens, while scribblers add their tongues,
The waiter only can escape their lungs. that Mr JERNINGHAM is about to take
up the cudgels for his Mccenas, Lord Carlisle: I hope not; he was one
* Mr F1TZGERALD is in the habit of reciting his own poetry.- Ses of the few who, in the very short intercourse I had note to English Bards,
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage;
L'univers est une espèce de livre, dont on n'a lu que la première page, quand on n'a vu que son pays. J'en
ai feuilleté un assez grand nombre, que j'ai trouvées également mauvaises. Cet examen ne m'a point été
Harold is the child of imagination, for the purpose have stated. In some very trivial particulars, and those
merely local, there might be grounds for such a potion; The following poem was written, for the most part, but in the main points, I should hope, none whatever. amidst the scenes which it attempts to describe. 11 It is almost superfluous to mention that the appellawas beguo in Albania ; and the parts relative to Spain | lion «Childe,» as « Childe Waters, « Childe Childers, and Portugal were composed from the author's obser- etc., is used as more consonant with the old structure of vations in those countries. Thus much it may be ne- versification which I have adopted. The « Good Night, » cessary to state for the correctness of the descriptions. in the beginning of the first canto, was suggested by The scenes attempted to be sketched are in Spain, « Lord Maxwell's Good Night,» in the Border Minstrelsy, Portugal, Epirus, Acarnania, and Greece. There edited by Mr Scott. for the present the poem stops : its reception will With the different poems which have been published determine whether the author may venture to conduct on Spanish subjects, there may be found some slight his readers to the capital of the East, through Ionia and coincidence in the first part, which treats of the peninPhrygia : these two cantos are merely experimental. sula, but it can only be casual; as, with the exception
A fictitious character is introduced for the sake of of a few concluding stanzas, the whole of this poem giving some connexion to the piece; which, however, was written in the Levant. makes no pretension to regularity. It has been suge The stanza of Spenser, according to one of our most gested to me by friends, on whose opinions I set a high successful poets, admits of every variety. Dr Beattie value, that in this fictitious character, «Childe Harold,» makes the following observation : «Not long ago I I may incur the suspicion of having intended some real began a poem in the style and stanza of Spenser, in personage: this I beg Icave, once for all, to disclaim, which I propose to give full scope to my inclination,
20d be either droll or pathetic, descriptive or senti- and express less, but he never was intended as an exmental, tender or satirical, as the humour strikes me; ample, further than to show that early perversion of for, if I mistake not, the measure which I have adopted, mind and morals leads to satiety of past pleasures and admits equally of all these kinds of composition. »'- disappointment in new ones, and that even the beanties Strengthened in my opinion by such authority, and by of nature, and the stimulus of travel (except ambition, the example of some in the highest order of Italian the most powerful of all excitements), are lost on a soul poets, I shall make no apology for attempts at similar so constituted, or rather misdirected. Had I proceeded variations in the following composition; satisfied that, with the poem, this character would have deepened as if they are unsuccessful, their failure must be in the he drew to the close, for the outline which I once esecution, rather than in the design sanctioned by the meant to fill up for him was, with some exceptions, practice of Ariosto, Thomson, and Beattie.
the sketch of a modern Timon, perhaps a poetical
Zeluco. ADDITION TO THE PREFACE. 1
I have now waited till almost all our periodical journals have distributed their usual portion of criticism.
TO JANTIE. | To the justice of the generality of their criticisms I Nor in those climes where I have late been straying,
have nothing to object; it would ill become me to Though beauty long hath there been matchless deem'd; quarrel with their very slight degree of censure, when
Not in those visions to the heart displaying perhaps, if they had been Jess kind they had been more Forms which it sighs but to have only dream'd, andid. Returning, therefore, to all and each my best Hath aught like thee, in truth or fancy seem'd: thanks for their liberality, on one point alone shall I Nor, having scen thee, shall I vainly seek ventare an observation. Amongst the many objections To paint those charms which varied as they beam'djustly urged to the very indifferent character of the To such as see thee not my words were weak; a ragrant Childe» (whom, notwithstanding many hints To those who gaze on thee what language could they to the contrary, I still maintain to be a fictitious per
speak? ! sonage), it lias been stated that, besides the anachron
Ah! in, te is very unknightly, as the times of the knights mayst thou ever be what now thou art, I were times of love, honour, and so forth. Now it so Nor unbeseem the promise of thy spring, bappeas that the good old times, when « l'amour du
As fair in form, as warm yet pure in heart, boo vieux temps, l'amour antique» flourished, were the
Love's image upon earth without his wing, I most profligate of all possible centuries. Those who
And guileless beyond hope's imagining! bare any doubts on this subject may consult St Palaye,
And surely she who now so fondly rears | pessime, and more particularly vol. ii, page 69. The
Thy youth, in thee, thus hourly brightening, vous of chivalry were no better kept than any other
Beholds the rainbow of her future years, 108 xhatsoever, and the songs of the Troubadours Before whose heavenly hues all sorrow disappears. were not more decent, and certainly were much less retined, than those of Ovid. - The «Cours d'amour, parle
Young Peri of the West !-'t is well for me mens d'amour, ou de courtoisie et de gentilesse,» had My years already doubly number thine ; much more of love than of courtesy or gentleness.-Sce
My loveless eye unmoved
may gaze on thee, Roland on the same subject with St Palaye.—Whatever
And safely view thy ripening beauties shine; other objection may be urged to that most unamiable
Happy, I ne'er shall see them in decline, personage, Childe Harold, he was so far perfectly knight
Hlappier, that while all younger hearts shall bleed, ly in his attributes—«No waiter, but a knight tem
Mine shall escape the doom thine eyes assign
To those whose admiration shall succeed, plar.n?-By the bye, I fear that Sir Tristram and Sir Lancelot were no better than they should be, although. But mix'd with pangs to love's even loveliest hours de
creed. very poetical personages and true knights « sans peur,» though not « sans reproche.»—If the story of the insti
Oh! let that eye, which, wild as the gazelle's, tution of the « Garter» be not a fable, the knights of
Now brightly bold or beautifully shy, that order have for several centuries borne the badge of
Wins as it wanders, dazzles where it dwells, a Countess of Salisbury, of indifferent memory. So
Glance o'er this page, nor to my verse deny much for chivalry. Burke need not have regretted
That smile for which my breast might vainly sigh, that its days are over, though Marie Antoinette was
Could I to thee be ever more than friend : quite as chaste as most of those in whose honours
This much, dear maid, accord ; nor question why lapces were shivered, and knights unhorsed.
To one so young, my strain I would commend, Before the days of Bayard, and down to those of Sir
But bid me with my wreath one matchless lily blend. Joseph Banks (the most chaste and celebrated of ancient and modern times), few exceptions will be found
Such is thy name with this my verse entwined; to this statement, and I fear a little investigation will
And long as kinder eyes a look shall cast teach us not to regret those monstrous mummeries of the middle ages.
On Harold's page, Ianthe's here enshrined
Shall thus be first beheld, forgotten last: I now leave «Childe Harold» to live bis day, such as
My days once number'd, should this homage past he is; it had been more agreeable, and certainly more
Attract thy fairy fingers near the lyre tasy, to have drawn an amiable character. It had been
Of him who hail'd thee, loveliest as thou wast, easy to varnish over his faults, to make him do more
Such is the most my memory may desire; Beattie's Letters.
Though more than hope can claim, could friendship • The Rovers. - Antijacobin.
less require ?
Lady Charlotte Harleq (hedern, ir.132).
With pleasure druggʻd he almost long'd for woe,
And monks might deem their time was come agen,
Nor mote my shell awake the weary Nine,
Save concubines and carnal companie,
Nor sought he friend to counsel or condole,
Nor florid prose, nor bonicd lies of rhyme,
Maidens, like moths, are ever caught by glare,
Though parting from that mother he did shun; Nor deem'd before his little day was done,
A sister whom lie loved, but saw her not One blast might chill him into misery.
Before his weary pilgrimage begun: But long ere scarce a third of his pass'd by,
If friends he had, he bade adieu 10 vone. Worse than adversity the Childe befel;
Yet deem not thence his breast a breast of steel; He felt the fulness of satiety:
Ye who have known what 't is to dote upon Then loathed he in his native land to dwell,
A few dear objects, will in sadness feel Which seem'd to him more lone than eremite's sad cell. Such partings break the heart they fondly hope to heal.
And spoil'd her goodly lands to gild his waste,
Without a sigh he left, to cross the brine,
5. My father bless'd me fervently,
Yet did not much complain; But sorely will my mother sigh
Till I come back again:« Enough, enough, my little lad
Such tears become thine eye; If I thy guileless bosom had,
Mine own would not be dry.
XII. The sails were filled, and fair the light winds blew, As glad to waft him from his native home; And fast the white rocks faded from his view, And soon were lost in circumambient foam : And then, it may be, of bis wish to roam Repeated he, but in his bosom slept The silent thought, nor from his lips did come
One word of wail, whilst others sate and wept, And to the reckless gales unmanly moaning kept.
XIII. But when the sun was sinking in the sea, He seized his barp, which he at times could string And strike, albeit with untaught melody, When deem'd he no strange ear was listening: And now his fingers o'er it he did fling, And tuned his farewell in the dim twilight. While flew the vessel on her snowy wing,
And fleeting shores reçeded from his sight, Thins to the elements he pour'd his last «Good Night.»
6. «Come hither, hither, my staunch yeoman,
Why dost thou look so pale ?
Or shiver at the gale?»—
Sir Childe, I'm not so weak;
Will blanch a faithful cheek.