Lured their lank jaws; himself sought out no food, And they were enemies: they met beside Where had been heap'd a mass of holy things For an unholy usage; they raked up, And shivering scraped with their cold skeleton hands. Blew for a little life, and made a flame Which was a mockery; then they lifted up Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld Each other's aspects-saw, and shriek'd, and died- grave, And their masts fell down piecemeal: as they dropp'd Diodati, July, 1816. 2 ["Darkness" is a grand and gloomy sketch of the supposed consequences of the final extinction of the Sun and the heavenly bodies; executed, undoubtedly, with great and fearful force, but with something of German exaggeration, and a fantastical solution of incidents. The very conception is terrible above all conception of known calamity, and is too oppressive to the imagination to be contemplated with pleasure even in the faint reflection of poetry.-JEFFREY.] 3 CHURCHILL'S GRAVE; A FACT LITERALLY RENDERED.3 I STOOD beside the grave of him who blazed The Gardener of that ground, why it might be And I had not the digging of this grave." Thus spoke he, "I believe the man of whom You wot, who lies in this selected tomb, [On the sheet containing the original draught of these lines Lord Byron has written :- "The following poem (as most that I have endeavoured to write) is founded on a fact; and this detail is an attempt at a serious imitation of the style of a great poet -its beauties and its defects: I say the style; for the thoughts I claim as my own. In this, if there be anything ridiculous, let it be attributed to me, at least as much as to Mr. Wordsworth; of whom there can exist few greater admirers than myself. I have blended what I would deem to be the beauties as well as defects of his style; and it ought to be remembered, that, in such things, whether there be praise or dispraise, there is always what is called a compliment, however unintentional."] Was a most famous writer in his day, And therefore travellers step from out their way Your honour pleases: "-then most pleased I shook' Some certain coins of silver, which as 'twere 5 ["The Grave of Churchill might have called from Lord Byron a deeper commemoration; for, though they generally differed in character and genius, there was a resemblance between their history and character. The satire of Churchill flowed with a more profuse, though not a more embittered, stream; while, on the other hand, he cannot be compared to Lord Byron in point of tenderness or imagination. But both these poets held themselves above the opinion of the world, and both were followed by the fame and popularity which they seemed to despise. The writings of both exhibit an inborn, though sometimes ill-regulated, generosity of mind, and a spirit of proud independence, frequently pushed to extremes. Both carried their hatred of hypocrisy beyond the verge of prudence, and indulged their vein of satire to the borders of licentiousness." -SIR WALTER SCOTT. Churchill, like Lord Byron, breathed his last in a foreign land. He died at Boulogne, but was buried at Dover, and this sensual line of his own was engraved upon his tomb : "Life to the last enjoy'd, here Churchill lies."] What was thy pity's recompense? A silent suffering, and intense; Which speaks but in its loneliness, II. Titan! to thee the strife was given And the deaf tyranny of Fate, Was thine-and thou hast borne it well. III. Thy Godlike crime was to be kind, And strengthen Man with his own mind; In the endurance, and repulse Of thine impenetrable Spirit, Which Earth and Heaven could not convulse To Mortals of their fate and force; A troubled stream from a pure source; His wretchedness, and his resistance, And a firm will, and a deep sense, Its own concenter'd recompense, Triumphant where it dares defy, And making Death a Victory. Diodati, July, 1816. A FRAGMENT. COULD I remount the river of my years Into the number of the nameless tides. What is this Death ?—a quiet of the heart? Of all which lives alone is life to me, |