????? a?at? pef??a???? [Greek: Pel?n ai(/mati pephyramhenon]

"Clay kneaded with blood."

Suetonius, in _Tiberium_, cap. 57.]

ICH DIEN.

FROM this emblem what variance your motto evinces, For the _Man_ is his country's--the Arms are the Prince's!

?1814.

[From an autograph MS. in the possession of Mr. A.H. Hallam Murray, now for the first time printed.]

CONDOLATORY ADDRESS

TO SARAH COUNTESS OF JERSEY, ON THE PRINCE REGENT'S RETURNING HER PICTURE TO MRS. MEE.[56]

WHEN the vain triumph of the imperial lord, Whom servile Rome obeyed, and yet abhorred, Gave to the vulgar gaze each glorious bust, That left a likeness of the brave, or just; What most admired each scrutinising eye Of all that decked that pa.s.sing pageantry?

What spread from face to face that wondering air?

The thought of Brutus[57]--for his was not there!

That absence proved his worth,--that absence fixed His memory on the longing mind, unmixed; 10 And more decreed his glory to endure, Than all a gold Colossus could secure.

If thus, fair Jersey, our desiring gaze Search for thy form, in vain and mute amaze, Amidst those pictured charms, whose loveliness, Bright though they be, thine own had rendered less: If he, that VAIN OLD MAN, whom truth admits Heir of his father's crown, and of his wits, If his corrupted eye, and withered heart, Could with thy gentle image bear to part; 20 That tasteless shame be _his_, and ours the grief, To gaze on Beauty's band without its chief: Yet Comfort still one selfish thought imparts, We lose the portrait, but preserve our hearts.

What can his vaulted gallery now disclose?

A _garden_ with all flowers--except the rose;-- A _fount_ that only wants its living stream; A _night_, with every star, save Dian's beam.

Lost to our eyes the present forms shall be, That turn from tracing them to dream of thee; 30 And more on that recalled resemblance pause, Than all he _shall_ not force on our applause.

Long may thy yet meridian l.u.s.tre s.h.i.+ne, With all that Virtue asks of Homage thine: The symmetry of youth--the grace of mien-- The eye that gladdens--and the brow serene; The glossy darkness of that cl.u.s.tering hair,[58]

Which shades, yet shows that forehead more than fair!

Each glance that wins us, and the life that throws A spell which will not let our looks repose, 40 But turn to gaze again, and find anew Some charm that well rewards another view.

These are not lessened, these are still as bright, Albeit too dazzling _for a dotard's sight_; And those must wait till ev'ry charm is gone, To please the paltry heart that pleases none;-- That dull cold sensualist, whose sickly eye In envious dimness pa.s.sed thy portrait by; Who racked his little spirit to combine Its hate of _Freedom's_ loveliness, and _thine_. 50

_May_ 29, 1814.

[First published in _The Champion_, July 31, 1814.]

FOOTNOTES:

[56] ["The gentlemen of the _Champion_, and Perry, have got hold (I know not how) of the condolatory Address to Lady Jersey on the picture-abduction by our Regent, and have published them--with my name, too, smack--without even asking leave, or inquiring whether or no! d.a.m.n their impudence, and d.a.m.n every thing. It has put me out of patience, and so, I shall say no more about it."--Letter to Moore, August 3, 1814, _Letters_, 1899, iii. 118. For Byron's letter to Lady Jersey, of May 29, 1814, and a note from her with reference to a lost(?) copy of the verses, _vide ibid_., p. 85. Mrs. Anne Mee (1775?-1851) was a miniature-painter, who was employed by the Prince Regent to take the portraits of fas.h.i.+onable beauties.]

[57] [Compare _Childe Harold_, Canto IV. stanza lix. line 3, _Poetical Works_, 1899, ii. 374, _note_ 2.]

[58] [See _Conversations ... with the Countess of Blessington_, 1834, p. 50.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: ANNESLEY HALL.]

FRAGMENT OF AN EPISTLE TO THOMAS MOORE.

"WHAT say _I_?"--not a syllable further in prose; I'm your man "of all measures," dear Tom,--so here goes!

Here goes, for a swim on the stream of old Time, On those buoyant supporters, the bladders of rhyme.

If our weight breaks them down, and we sink in the flood, We are smothered, at least, in respectable mud, Where the divers of Bathos lie drowned in a heap, And Southey's last Paean has pillowed his sleep; That _Felo de se_ who, half drunk with his Malmsey, Walked out of his depth and was lost in a calm sea, 10 Singing "Glory to G.o.d" in a spick and span stanza, The like (since Tom Sternhold was choked) never man saw.[59]

The papers have told you, no doubt, of the fusses, The fetes, and the gapings to get at these Russes,[60]-- Of his Majesty's suite, up from coachman to Hetman,-- And what dignity decks the flat face of the great man.

I saw him, last week, at two b.a.l.l.s and a party,-- For a Prince, his demeanour was rather too hearty.

You know, _we_ are used to quite different graces,

The Czar's look, I own, was much brighter and brisker, 20 But then he is sadly deficient in whisker; And wore but a starless blue coat, and in kersey- mere breeches whisked round, in a waltz with the Jersey,[61]

Who, lovely as ever, seemed just as delighted With Majesty's presence as those she invited.

_June_, 1814.

[First published, _Letters and Journals_, 1830, i. 561, 562 (note).]

FOOTNOTES:

[59] [The two first stanzas of Southey's "_Carmen Triumphale_, for the Commencement of the Year 1814," end with the line--

"Glory to G.o.d--Deliverance for Mankind!"]

[60] ["The newspapers will tell you all that is to be told of emperors, etc. They have dined, and supped, and shown their flat faces in all thoroughfares and several saloons."--Letter to Moore, June 14, 1814, _Letters_, 1899, iii. 93, 94.

From June 6 to June 27, 1814, the Emperor of Russia, and the King of Prussia were in England. Huge crowds watched all day and night outside the Pulteney Hotel (105, Piccadilly), where the Emperor of Russia stayed. Among the foreigners in London were Nesselrode, Metternich, Blucher, and Platoff, Hetman of the Cossacks. The two latter were the heroes of the mob. _Ibid_., p. 93, _note_ 1.]

[61] ["The Emperor," says Lady Vernon (_Journal of Mary Frampton_, pp.

225, 226), "is fond of dancing.... He waltzed with Lady Jersey, whom he admires, to the great discomposure of the Regent, who has quarrelled with her."]

ANSWER TO----'S PROFESSIONS OF AFFECTION.

IN hearts like thine ne'er may I hold a place Till I renounce all sense, all shame, all grace-- That seat,--like seats, the bane of Freedom's realm, But dear to those presiding at the helm-- Is basely purchased, not with gold alone; Add Conscience, too, this bargain is your own-- 'T is thine to offer with corrupting art The _rotten borough_[62] of the human heart.

?1814.

[From an autograph MS., now for the first time printed.]

FOOTNOTES:

[62] [The phrase, "rotten borough," was used by Sir F. Burdett, _Examiner_, October 12, 1812.]