Life of Lord Byron, Vol. 1: With His Letters and JournalsMoore, Thomas
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Life of Lord Byron, Vol. 1: With His Letters and Journals
Moore, Thomas
Byron, George Gordon Byron, Baron, 1788-1824; Poets, English -- 19th century -- Biography
In another of these poems, which extends to about a hundred lines, and
which he wrote under the melancholy impression that he should soon
die, we find him concluding with a prayer in somewhat the same spirit.
After bidding adieu to all the favourite scenes of his youth,[68] he
thus continues,--
"Forget this world, my restless sprite,
Turn, turn thy thoughts to Heav'n:
There must thou soon direct thy night,
If errors are forgiven.
To bigots and to sects unknown.
Bow down beneath the Almighty's throne;--
To him address thy trembling prayer;
He, who is merciful and just,
Will not reject a child of dust,
Although his meanest care.
Father of Light, to thee I call,
My soul is dark within;
Thou, who canst mark the sparrow fall,
Avert the death of sin.
Thou, who canst guide the wandering star,
Who calm'st the elemental war,
Whose mantle is yon boundless sky,
My thoughts, my words, my crimes forgive;
And, since I soon must cease to live,
Instruct me how to die.
1807."
We have seen, by a former letter, that the law proceedings for the
recovery of his Rochdale property had been attended with success in
some trial of the case at Lancaster. The following note to one of his
Southwell friends, announcing a second triumph of the cause, shows how
sanguinely and, as it turned out, erroneously, he calculated on the
results.
"Feb. 9. 1807.
Dear ----,
"I have the pleasure to inform you we have gained the Rochdale cause a
second time, by which I am, £60,000 plus. Yours ever,
"BYRON."
In the month of April we find him still at Southwell, and addressing
to his friend, Dr. Pigot, who was at Edinburgh, the following
note[69]:--
"Southwell, April, 1807.
"My dear Pigot,
"Allow me to congratulate you on the success of your first
examination--'_Courage_, mon ami.' The title of Doctor will do wonders
with the damsels. I shall most probably be in Essex or London when you
arrive at this d----d place, where I am detained by the publication of
my rhymes.
"Adieu.--Believe me yours very truly,
"BYRON.
"P.S. Since we met, I have reduced myself by violent exercise, much
physic, and hot bathing, from 14 stone 6 lb. to 12 stone 7 lb. In all I
have lost 27 pounds. Bravo!--what say you?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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