Life of Lord Byron, Vol. 3: With His Letters and JournalsMoore, Thomas
General
Life of Lord Byron, Vol. 3: With His Letters and Journals
Moore, Thomas
Byron, George Gordon Byron, Baron, 1788-1824; Poets, English -- 19th century -- Biography
"Let Mr. Gifford have the letter and return it at his leisure. I
would have offered it, had I thought that he liked things of the
kind.
"Do you want the last page _immediately_! I have doubts about the
lines being worth printing; at any rate, I must see them again and
alter some passages, before they go forth in any shape into the
_ocean_ of circulation;--a very conceited phrase, by the by: well
then--_channel_ of publication will do.
"'I am not i' the vein,' or I could knock off a stanza or three for
the Ode, that might answer the purpose better.[26] At all events, I
_must_ see the lines again _first_, as there be two I have altered
in my mind's manuscript already. Has any one seen or judged of
them? that is the criterion by which I will abide--only give me a
_fair_ report, and 'nothing extenuate,' as I will in that case do
something else.
"Ever," &c.
"I want _Moreri_, and an _Athenaeus_."
[Footnote 26: Mr. Murray had requested of him to make some additions to
the Ode, so as to save the stamp duty imposed upon publications not
exceeding a single sheet; and he afterwards added, in successive
editions, five or six stanzas, the original number being but eleven.
There were also three more stanzas, which he never printed, but which,
for the just tribute they contain to Washington, are worthy of being
preserved:--
"There was a day--there was an hour,
While earth was Gaul's--Gaul thine--
When that immeasurable power
Unsated to resign
Had been an act of purer fame
Than gathers round Marengo's name
And gilded thy decline,
Through the long twilight of all time,
Despite some passing clouds of crime.
"But thou, forsooth, must be a king,
And don the purple vest,
As if that foolish robe could wring
Remembrance from thy breast.
Where is that faded garment? where
The gewgaws thou wert fond to wear,
The star--the string--the crest?
Vain froward child of empire! say,
Are all thy playthings snatch'd away?
"Where may the wearied eye repose
When gazing on the great;
Where neither guilty glory glows,
Nor despicable state?
Yes--one--the first--the last--the best--
The Cincinnatus of the West,
Whom envy dared not hate,
Bequeathed the name of Washington,
To make man blush there was but One!"
]
* * * * *
LETTER 178. TO MR. MURRAY.
"April 26. 1814.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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