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ON A CHANGE OF MASTERS AT A GREAT|When Health, affirighted, spreads her rosy wing, PUBLIC SCHOOL.*

And flies with every changing gale of spriug;

Not to the aching frame alone confined, WHERE are those honors, Ida! once your own, Unyielding pangs assail the drooping mind: When Probust fill'd your magisterial throne ?

What grisly forms, the spectre-train of wo, As ancient Rome, fast falling to disgrace, Bid shuddering Nature shrink beneath the blow, Hail'd a barbarian in her Cæsar's place,

With Resignation wage relentless strife, So you, degenerate, share as hard a fate,

While Hope retires appall’d and clings to life. And seat Pomposusi where your Probus sate. Yet less the pang when through the tedious hour Of narrow brain, yet of a narrower soul,

Remembrance sheds around her genial power, Pomposus holds you in his harsh control;

Calls back the vanish'd days to rapture given, Pomposus, by no social virtue sway'd,

When love was bliss, and Beauty formed our'heaven With florid jargon, and with vain parade ;

Or, dear to youth, portrays each childish scene, With noisy nonsense, and new-angled rules, |Those fairy bowers, where all in turn have been. Such as were ne'er before enforced in schools. As when through clouds that pour the summer Mistaking pedantry for learning's laws,

storm He governs, sanction’d but by self-applause. The orb of day unveils his distant form, With him the same dire fate attending Rome, Gilds with faint beams the crystal dews of rain, Ill-fated Ida! soon must stamp your doom : And dimly twinkles o'er the watery plain; Like her o'erthrown, forever lost to fame,

Thus, while the future dark and cheerless gleams, No trace of science left you but the name.

The sun of memory, glowing through my dreams,
July, 1805.

Though sunk the radiance of his former blaze,
To scenes far distant points his paler rays;
Still rules my senses with unbounded sway,

The past confounding with the present day.

Oft does my heart indulge the rising thought, “I cannot but remember such things were,

Which still recurs, unlook'd for and unsought: And were most dear to me."

My soul to Fancy's fond suggestion yields, il WHEN slow Disease, with all her host of pains.

And roams romantic o'er her airy fields :

Scenes of my youth, developed, crowd to view, Chills the warm tide which flows along the veins;

To which I long have bade a last adieu ! * These lines were only printed in the private volume. Lord Byron most Seats of delight, inspiring youthful themes; aucerely regretted having written this and the subsequent attack on Dr. Friends lost to me for aye, except in dreams : Butler, contained in the poem called Childish Recollections. A reconciliation (Some who in marble prematurely sleep, took place between them before Lord Byron's first departure for Greece; and Mr. Moore informs us that, "not content with this private atonement to Dr. Whose forms I now remember but to weep; Butler, it was Lord Byron's intention, had he published another edition of the Some who yet urge the same scholastic course Hours of Idleness, to substitute for the offensive verses against that gentleman,

Of early science, future fame the source; a frank avowal of the wrong he had been guilty of, in giving vent to them." Life of Byron, vol. i. p. 188.

Who, still contending in the studious race, † Probus, Dr. Drury.

In quick rotation fill the senior place. | Pomposis, Dr. Butler.

These with a thousand visions now unite, § This poem was published in the private volume ; and, with many additions and corrections, in the first editions of Hours of Idleness; but was after

Hours of Idleness ; but was after- To dazzle, though they please, my aching sight. wards suppressed. I In the private volume the poem opened with the following lines :

IDA! bless'd spot, where Science holds her reign, “ Hence I thou unvarying song of varied loves, Which youth comiends, maturer age reproves ;

How joyous once I join'd thy youthful train! Which every rhyming barı repeats by rote,

Bright in idea gleams thy lofty spire,
By thousands echo'd to the self-same note !

Again I mingle with thy playful choir;
Tired of the dull, unceasing, copious strain,
My soul is panting to be free again.

Our tricks of mischief, every childish game,
Farewell I ye nymphis propitious to my verse,

Unchanged by time or distance, seem the same; Some other Damon will your charms rehearse ;

Through winding paths along the glade, I trace
Some other paint his pangs, in hope of bliss,
Or dwell in rapture on your nectar'd kiss.

The social smile of every welcome face;
Those beauties, grateful to my ardent sight,

My wonted haunts, my scenes of joy and wo,
No more entrance my senses in delight;

Each early boyish friend, or youthful foe,
Those bosoms, form's of animated snow,
Alike are tasteless, are unfeeling now.

Our feuds dissolved, but not my friendship pass'd:
These to some happier lover I resign-

I bless the former, and forgive the last.
The memory of those joys alone is mine.

Hours of my youth! when, nurtured in my breast,
Censure no more shall brand my humble name,
The child of passion and the fool of fame.

To love a stranger, friendship made me bless'd :Weary of love, of life, devour'd with spleen,

Friendship, the dear peculiar bond of youth, I rest a perfect Timon, nut nineteen.

When every artless bosom throbs with truth;
World I I renounce thee! all my hope's o'ercast;

Untaught by worldly wisdom how to feign,
One sigh I give thee, but that sigh's the last.
Friends, foes, and females now alike adieu !

And check each impulse with prudential rein; Would I could add, remembrance of you too!

When all we feel, our honest souls disclose
Yet, though the future dark and cheerless gleams
The curse of memory, hov'ring in my dreams,

In love to friends, in open hate to foes;
Depicts with glowing pencil all those years,

No varnish'd tales the lips of youth repeat, Ere yet my cup, empoison'd, Hows with tears;

No dear-bought knowledge purchased by deceit , Still rules my senses with tyrannic sway, The past confounding with the present day.

* The next fifty-six lines, to Alas ! in vain I check the maddening thought : It still recurs, unlook'd for and unsought :

“ Here first remember'd be the joyous band," Mv soci to Fancy's," &c., &c., &c., as at line twenty-nine.

were added in the first edition of Hours of Idleness.

Mypocrisy, the gift of lengthen’d years,

With him, for years, we search'd the classic page, Matured by age, the garb of prudence wears. | And fear'd the master, though we loved the sage; When now the boy is ripen'd into man,

Retired at last, his small yet peaceful seat His careful sire chalks forth some wary plan; From learning's labor is the blest retreat. Instructs his son from candor's path to shrink, * Pomposus fills his magisterial chair; Smoothly to speak, and cautiously to think; Pomposus governs,--but, my muse, forbear: Still to assent, and never to deny

Contempt, in silence, be the pedant's lot;
A patron's praise can well reward the lie:

His name and precepts be alike forgot :t
And who, when Fortune's warning voice is heard, No more his mention shall my verse degrade,
Would lose his opening prospects for a word ? To him my tribute is already paid. I
Although against that word his heart rebel,
And truth indignant all his bosom swell.

ș High, through those elms, with hoáry branches

Away with themes like this: not mine the task Fair IDA's bower adorns the landscape round;
From flattering fiends to tear the hateful mask; There Science, from her favor'd seat, surveys
Let keener bards delight in satire's sting;

The vale where rural Nature claims her praise;
My fancy soars not on Detraction's wing:

To her awhile resigns her youthful train,
Once, and but once, she aimed a deadly blow, Who move in joy, and dance along the plain;
To hurl defiance on a secret foe;

In scatter'd groups each favor'd haunt pursue;
But when that foe, from feeling or from shame, Repeat old pastimes, and discover new;
The cause unknown, yet still to me the same, Flush'd with his rays, beneath the noontide sun,
Warn’d by some friendly hint, perchance, retired, In rival bands between the wickets run,
With this submission all her rage expired.

Drive o'er the sward the ball with active force,
From dreaded pangs that feeble foe to save, Or chase with nimble feet its rapid course.
She hush'd her young resentment, and forgave; But these with slower steps direct their way
* Or, if my muse a pedant's portrait drew,

Where Brent's cool waves in limpid current's stray,
Pomposus' virtues are but known to few; While yonder few search out some green retreat,
I never fear'd the young usurper's nod,

And arbors shade them from the summer heat;
And he who wields must sometimes feel the rod. Others again, a pert and lively crew,
If since on Granta's failings, known to all

Some rough and thoughtless stranger placed in view,
Who share the converse of a college hall,

With frolic quaint their antic jests expose, She sometimes trifled in a lighter strain,

And tease the grumbling rustic as he goes; 'Tis past, and thus she will not sin again,

Nor rest with this, but many a passing fray
Soon must her early song forever cease,

Tradition treasures for a future day:
And all may rail when I shall rest in peace. “'Twas here the gather'd swains for vengeance

fought, Here first remember'd be the joyous band,

And here we earn'd the conquest dearly bought;
Who hail'd me chief, obedient to command; Here have we fled before superior might,
Who join'd with me in every boyish sport-

And here renew'd the wild tumultuous flight."
Their first adviser, and their last resort;

While thus our souls with early passions swell, tNor shrunk beneath the upstart pedant's frown, In lingering tones resounds the distant bell; Or all the sable glories of his gown;

Th' allotted hour of daily sport is o'er,
Who, thus transplanted from his father's school And Learning beckons from her temple's door.
Unfit to govern, ignorant of rule,

No splendid tablets grace her simple hall,
Succeeded him, whom all unite to praise,

But ruder records fill the dusky wall;
The dear preceptor of my early days;
PROBUS,I the pride of science, and the boast,

* Pomposus fills his magisterial chair; To IDA now, alas.! forever lost.

Pomposus governs, &c.
Had Lord Byron published another edition of Hours of Idleness, it was his

intention to give the following turn to this passage :. Or if my muşe a pedant's portrait drew,

" Another fills his magisterial chair; Poriposus' virtues, &c.

Reluctant Ida owns a stranger's care ; Mr. Moore informs us, that instead of this passage, Lord Byron meant tu

Oh! may like honors crown his future name, isert,

If such his virtues, such shall be his fame." « If once my muse a harsher portrait drew,

Moore's Life of Byron, vol. i. p. 189.
Warm with her wrongs, and deem'd the likeness true,
By cooler judgment taught, her fault she owns,

His name, &c. Instead of this line, the private volume reads,
With noble minds a fault, confess'd, atones."

“Soon shall his shallow precepts be forgot." Life of Byron, vol. i. p. 188.

I This alludes to a character printed in a former private edition for the † Instead of the present couplet, the private volume has the following four

perusal of some friends, which, with many other pieces, is withheld from the Lines :

present volume.“ To draw the attention of the public to insignificance, " Careless to soothe the pedant's furious frown,

would be deservedly reprobated; and another reason, though not of equal 8 carcely respecting his majestic gown;

consequence, may be given in the following couplet :-
By which, in vain, he gain'd a borrowed grace,
Adding new terror to his sneering face."

“ Satire or sense, alas ! can Sposus feel?

Who breaks a butterfly upon the wheel ? " This most able and excelleut man retired from his situation in March,

POPE.--Prologue to the Satires. 1805, after having resided thirty-five years at Harrow; the last twenty as

tol head-master; an office he held with equal honor to himself, and advantage to

The ensuing hundred and twenty-two lines, to

9 The ensuing hund the very extensive school over which he presided. Panegyric would here be

" Alonzo ! best and dearest of my friends," nuperfluous : it would be useless to enumerate qualifications which were never

are not found in the private volume, but were introduced in the firpt edition or doubted. A considerable contest took place between three rival candidates

Hours of Idleness. för his vacant chair : of this I can only say, Si mea, cum vestris valuissent vota, Pelasgi !

• Those pieces are reprinted in the second edition. The character alluded Non foret ambiguus tanti certaminis Hæres.

I to is contained in the preceding poem.

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There, deeply carved, behold! each tyro's name The tender guidance of a father's care:
Secures its owner's academic fame ;

Can rank, or e'en a guardian's name, supply
Here, mingling view the names of sire and son The love which glistens in a father's eye?
The one long graved, the other just begun;

For this can wealth or title's sound atone, These shall survive alike when son and sire

Made by a parent's early loss my own: Beneath one common stroke of fate expire : What brother springs a brother's love to seek? Perhaps their last memorial these alone,

What sister's gentle kiss has prest my cheek? Denied in death a monumental stone,

For me how dull the vacant moments rise, Whilst to the gale in mournful cadence wave To no fond bosom link'd by kindred ties ! The sighing weeds that hide their nameless grave. Oft in the progress of some fleeting dream And here my name, and many an early friend's, Fraternal smiles collected round me seem; Along the wall in lengthen'd line extends.

While still the visions to my heart are prest, Though still our deeds amuse the youthful race, The voice of love will murmur in my rest : Who tread our steps, and fill our former place, I hear—I wake-and in the sound rejoice; Who young obey'd their lords in silent awe,

I hear again,--but, ah! no brother's voice.
Whose nod commanded, and whose voice was law, A hermit, 'midst of crowds, I fain must stray
And now in turn possess the reins of power, Alone, though thousand pilgrims fill the way;
To rule the little tyrants of an hour;-

While these a thousand kindred wreaths entwine,
Though sometimes with the tales of ancient day I cannot call one single blossom mine :
They pass the dreary winter's eve away-

What then remains ? in solitude to groan,
" And thus our former rulers stemm'd the tide, To mix in friendship, or to sigh alone?
And thus they dealt the combat side by side; Thus must I cling to some endearing hand,
Just in this place the mouldering walls they scaled, And none more dear than IDA's social band.
Nor bolts nor bars against their strength. avail'd;
Here Probus came, the rising fray to quell, * Alonzo! best and dearest of my friends,
And here he falter'd forth his last farewell ;

Thy name ennobles him who thus commends:
And here one night abroad they dared to roam, From this fond tribute thou canst gain no praise,
While bold Pomposus bravely stayed at home;" The praise is his who now that tribute pays.
While thus they speak, the hour must soon arrive, Oh! in the promise of thy early youth,
When names of these, like ours, alone survive: If hope anticipate the words of truth,
Yet a few years, one general wreck will whelmi Some loftier bard shall sing thy glorious name,
The faint remembrance of our fairy realm. To build his own upon thy deathless fame.t

Friend of my heart, and foremost of the list
Dear honest race, though now we meet no more, Of those with whom I lived supremely blest,
One last long look on what we were before-

Oft have we drain'd the font of ancient lore;
Our first kind greetings, and our last adieu-

Though drinking deeply, thirsting still the more.
Drew tears from eyes unused to weep with you. Yet when confinement's lingering hour was done,
Through splendid circles, fashion's gaudy world, Our sports, our studies, and our souls were one:
Where folly's glaring standard waves unfurld, Together we impell’d the flying ball;
I plunged to drown in noise my fond regret, Together waited in our tutor's hall;
And all I sought or hoped was to forget.

Together join'd in cricket's manly toil,
Vain wish! if chance some well-remember'd face, Or shared the produce of the river's spoil;
Some old companion of my early race,

Or plunging from the green declining shore,
Advanced to claim his friend, with honest joy, Our pliant I limbs the buoyant billows bore;
My eyes, my heart proclaim'd me still a boy ; In every element, unchanged, the same,
The glittering scene, the fluttering groups around, All, all that brothers should be but the name.
Were quite forgotten when my friend was found;
The smiles of beauty--(for, alas! I've known Nor yet are you forgot, my jocund boy!
What 'tis to bend before Love's mighty throne)- Davus, the harbinger of childish joy;
The smiles of beauty, though those smiles were dear, For ever foremost in the ranks of fun,
Could hardly charm me when that friend was near: The laughing herald of the harmless pun:
My thoughts bewilder'd in the fond surprise, Yet with a breast of such materials made
The woods of Ida danced before my eyes ;

Anxious to please, of pleasing half afraid;
I saw the sprightly wanderers pour along,

Candid and liberal, with a heart of steel I saw and join'd again the joyous throng;

In danger's path, though not untaught to feel.
Panting, again I traced her lofty grove,

Still I remember in the factious strife
And friendship’s feelings triumph'd over love. The rustic's musket aim'd against my life:

High poised in air the massy weapon hung,
Yet why should I alone with such delight

A cry of terror burst from every tongue; Retrace the circuit of my former flight?

Whilst I, in combat with another foe,
Is there no cause beyond the common claim

Fought on, unconscious of th' impending blow,
Endear’d to all in childhood's very name?
Ah! sure some stronger impulse vibrates here, Alonzo. In the private volume, Johannes.
Which whispers friendship will be doubly dear

The following four lines of the private volumes were omitted in the

Hours of Idleness :-
To one who thus for kindred hearts must roam,
And seek abroad the love denied at home.

" Could aught inspire me with poetic Nre,

For thee alone I'd strike the hallow'd lyre; Those hearts, dear Ida, have I found in thee

But to some abler hand the task I waive, A home, a world, a paradise to me.

Whose strains immortal may outlive the grave.* Stern death forbade my orphan youth to share 1 Pliant. Private volume, lusty.

Your arm, brave boy, arrested his career

Domestic happiness will stamp thy fate; Forward you sprung, insensible to fear;

Sacred to love, unclouded e'er by hate; Disarm’d and baffled by your conquering hand, The world admire thee, and thy friends adore; The grovelling savage roll'd upon the sand : * Ambition's slave alone would toil for more. * An act like this can simple thanks repay ? Or all the labors of a grateful lay?

Now last, and nearest of the social band, Oh no! whene'er my breast forgets the deed, See honest, open, generous CLEON stand ; That instant, Davus, it deserves to bleed.

With scarce one speck to cloud the pleasing scene

No vice degrades that purest soul serene. Lycus! on me thy claims are justly great:

On the same day our studious race begun, Thy milder virtues could my muse relate,

On the same day our studious race was run; To thee alone, unrivall’d, would belong

Thus side by side we pass'd our first career, The feeble efforts of my lengthen'd song.t

Thus side by side we strove for many a year; Well canst thou boast to lead in senates fit

At last concluded our scholastic life, A Spartan firmness with Athenian wit:

We neither conquer'd in the classic strife; Though yet in embryo these perfections shine, As speakers † each supports an equal name, Lycus! thy father's fame will soon be thine. And crowds allow to both a partial fame : Where learning nurtures the superior mind, To soothe a youthful rival's early pride, What may we hope from genius thus refined ! Though Cleon's candor would the palm divide, When time at length matures thy growing years, Yet candor's self compels me now to own How wilt thou tower above thy fellow peers! Justice awards it to my friend alone. Prudence and sense, a spirit bold and free, With honor's soul, united beam in thee.

Oh! friends regretted, scenes for ever dear,

Remembrance hails you with her warmest tear. Shall fair EURYALUS pass by unsung?

Drooping, she bends o’er pensive Fancy's urn From ancient lineage, not unworthy, sprung: To trace the hours which never can return; What though one sad dissension bade us part, § Yet with the retrospection loves to dwell, That name is yet embalm’d within my heart; And soothe the sorrows of her last farewell Yet at the mention does that heart rebound, Yet greets the triumph of my boyish mind, And palpitate responsive to the sound.

As infant laurels round my head were twined ; Envy dissolved our ties, and not our will:

When Probus' praise repaid my lyric song, We once were friends,—I'll think we are so still. Or placed me higher in the studious throng, A form unmatch'd in nature's partial mould, Or when my first harangue received applause, A heart untainted, we in thee behold:

His sage instruction the primeval cause, Yet not the senate's thunder thou shalt wield, What gratitude to him my soul possest, Nor seek for glory in the tented field;

While hope of dawning honors fill'd my breast! To minds of ruder texture these be given

|| For all my humble fame, to him alone Thy soul shall nearer soar its native heaven. Haply in polish'd courts might be thy seat,

* 6 Where is the restless fool would wish for more?"-Private volume. But that thy tongue could never forge deceit;

† This alludes to the public speeches delivered at the school where the

author was educateil. The courtier's supple bow and sneering smile,

I The six concluding lines of this passage were given as follows in the The flow of compliment, the slippery wile,

private volume :Would make that breast with indignation burn,

" As speakers, each supports a rivill name, And all the glittering snares to tempt thee spurn.

Though neither seeks to damn the other's fame.
Pomposus sits, unequal to decirle :

With youthful candor, we the palm diviile; * An act like this, &c. In the private volume, the last four lines of this

Yet canilor's self compels me now to own character were as follows:

Justice awards it to my friend alone" “ Thus did you save that life I scarcely prize

$ " Yet in retrospection finds relief,
A life ur:worthy such a sacrifice :

And revels in the luxury of grief."-Private volume.
Oh! when my breast forgets the generous deed,

| From this place to the enıl, the copy of the poem, ils printed in the That instant, Davus, it deserves to bleed."

Hours of Idleness, differs entirely from that in the private volume, which ? In the private volume, we find the following lines concluding the charac- contains and concludes thus:der of Lycus; and the remainder of the passage relating to him was origi.

6 When, yet a novice in the mimic art, cally given as descriptive of a friend entitled Clarus, of whom no mention is

I feign'd the transports of a vengeful heart; made in the last published copy of the poem :-

When as the Royal Slave 1 trou the stage,
6 For ever to possess a friend in thee,

To vent in Zanga more than mortal rage;
Was bliss unhoped, though not unsought by me.

The praise of Probus made me feel more proud
Thy softer soul was form’ıl for love alone,

Than all the plaudits of the listning crowd.
To ruder passions and to hate unknown;

6 Ah ! vain endeavor in this chilelish strain
Thy mind, in union with thy beauteous forin,

To soothe the woes of which I thus complain.
Was gentle, but unfit to stem the storm;

What can avail the fruitless loss of time,
That face, an index of celestial worth,

To measure sorrow in a jingling rhyme !
Proclaim'd a heart abstracted from the earth.

No social solace from a friend is near,
Oft, when depress'd with sad foreboding gloom,

And heartless strangers clrop no feeling tear.
I sat reclined upon our favorite tomb,

I seek not joy in woman's sparkling eye:
I've seen those sympathetic eyes o’erflow

The smiles of cauty cannot check the sigli.
With kind compassion for thy cornrade's wo;

Adieu ! thou world ! thy pleasure's still a dream,
Or, when less mournful subjects form'd our themes,

Thy virtue but a visionary theme;
We tried a thousand fond romantic schemes,

The years of vice on years of folly roll,
Oft hast thou sworn, in friendship's soothing tone,

Till griuning death assigns the distant goal,
Whatever wish was mine must be thine own.

Where all are hastening to the cread aboile,
" The next can boast to lead in senates fit

To meet the judgment of a righteous God;
A Spartan firmness with Athenian wit :

Mix'd in the concourse of the thoughtless throng,
Though yet in embryo these perfections shine,

A mourner midst of mirth, I glide along 1
Clarus ! thy father's fame will soon be thine.

A wretched, isolated, gloomy thing,
When learning, &c., &c.

Curst by reflection's deep-corruiling sting i

The praise is due, who made that fame my own. Ah, no! amid the gloomy calm of age
Oh! could I soar above these feeble lays,

You turn with faltering hand life’ş varied page; These young effusions of my early days,

Peruse the record of your days on earth, To him my muse her noblest strain would give : Unsullied only where it marks your birth; The song might perish, but the theme must live. Still lingering pause above each checker'd leaf, Yet why for him the needless verse essay ?

And blot with tears the sable lines of grief; His honor'd name requires no vain display: Where Passion o'er the theme her mantle threw; By every son of grateful Ida blest,

Or weeping Virtue sigh'd a faint adieu ; It finds an echo in each youthful breast;

But bless the scroll which fairer words adorn, A fame beyond the glories of the proud,

Traced by the rosy finger of the morn, Or all the plaudits of the venal crowd.

When Friendship bow'd before the shrine of truth,

And Love,* without his pinion smiled on youth Ida, not yet exhausted is the theme, Nor closed the progress of my youthful dream. How many a friend deserves the grateful strain, What scenes of childhood still unsung remain, Yet let me hush this echo of the past, This parting song, the dearest and the last; And brood in secret o'er those hours of joy, To me a silent and a sweet employ,

WRITTEN BY MONTGOMERY, AUTHOR OF "TH. While, future hope and fear alike unknown,

WANDERER IN SWITZERLAND," &c., &c., ENI think with pleasure on the past alone;

Yes, to the past alone my heart confine,
And chase the phantom of what once was mine.

MONTGOMERY! true, the common lot

Of mortals lies in Lethe's wave: IDA! still o'er thy hills in joy preside,

Yet some shall never be forgot
And proudly steer through time's eventful tide;

Some shall exist beyond the grave.
Still may thy blooming sons thy name revere,
Smile in thy bower, but quit thee with a tear;-

“Unknown the region of his birth,” That tear perhaps the fondest which will flow

The hero i rolls the tide of war; O’er their last scene of happiness below.

Yet not unknown his martial worth,
Tell me, ye hoary few who glide along,

Which glares a meteor from afar.
The feeble veterans of some former throng,
Whose friends, like autumn leaves by tempest

His joy or grief, his weal or wo,

Perchance may 'scape the page of fame; Are swept for ever from this busy world;

Yet nations now unborn will know
Revolve the fleeting moments of your youth,

The record of his deathless name.
While Care as yet withheld her venom'd tooth,
Say if remembrance days like these endears

The patriot's and the poet's frame
Beyond the rapture of succeeding years ?

Must share the common tomb of all; Say can ambition's fever'd dream bestow

Their glory will not sleep the same;
So sweet a balm to soothe your hours of wo?

That will arise, though empires fall.
Can treasures, hoarded for some thankless son,
Can royal smiles, or wreaths by slaughter won,

The lustre of a beauty's eye
Can stars or ermine, man's maturer toys,

Assumes the ghastly stare of death; (For glittering baubles are not left to boys,)

The fair, the brave, the good must die, Recall one scene so much beloved to view

And sink the yawning grave beneath.
As those where Youth her garland twined for you.

Once more the speaking eye revives,
But not that mental sting which stabs within,

Still beaming through the lover's strain;
The dark avenger of unpunish'd sin;

For Petrarch's Laura still survives:
The silent shaft which goals the guilty wretch
Extended on a rack's untiring stretch :

She died, but ne'er will die again.
Conscience that sting, that shaft to him supplies
His rnind the rack froin which he ne'er can rise.

The rolling seasons pass away,
For me, whate'er my folly or my fear,
One cheerful cornfort still is cherish'd here:

And Time, untiring, waves his wing;
No dread internal haunts my hours of rest,

Whilst honor's laurels ne'er decay,
No dreams of injured innocence infest :
Of hope, of peace, of almost all bereft,

But bloom in fresh unfading spring.
Conscience, my last but welcome guest is left.
Slander's impoison'd breath may blast my name;

All, all must sleep in grim repose,
Envy delights to blight the buds of fame :
Deceit may chill the current of my blood,

Collected in the silent tomb;
And freeze affection's warm impassion'd flood;

The old and young, with friends and foes,
Presaging horror darken every sense ;-

Festering alike in shrouds, consume.
Even here will conscience be my best defence.
My bosom feels no worm which ne'er can die :'
Not crimes I mourn, but happiness gone by.

. "L'Amitié est l'Amour sans ailes " is a French proverb. Thus crawling on with many a reptile vile,

t Only printed in the private volume. My heart is bitter, though my cheek may smile :

No particular hero is here alluded to. The exploits of Bayard, Nemour, No more with foriner bliss my heart is glad ;

Edward the Black Prince, and, in more modern times, the fame of Murte Hope yields to angvish, and my soul is sad :

borough, Frederick the Great, Count Saxe, Charles of Sweden, &c., ar From fond regret no future joy can save;

familiar to every historical reader, but the exact place of their birth kan R membrance slumbers only in the grave."

Ito a very small proportion of their admirers.

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