Thro' hours, thro' years, thro' time,'twill cheer-- My hope, in gloomy moments, raise; In life's last conflict 'twill appear, And meet my fond, expiring gaze. [Footnote 1: This "Mary" is not to be confounded with the heiress of Annesley, or "Mary" of Aberdeen. She was of humble station in life. Byron used to show a lock of her light golden hair, as well as her picture, among his friends. (See 'Life', p. 41, 'note'.)] [Footnote i.: 'But Where's the beam of soft desire? Which gave a lustre to its blue, Love, only love, could e'er inspire.--' [4to. 'P. on V, Occasions]] ON THE DEATH OF MR. FOX,[1] THE FOLLOWING ILLIBERAL IMPROMPTU APPEARED IN THE "MORNING POST." "Our Nation's foes lament on _Fox's_ death, But bless the hour, when PITT resign'd his breath: These feelings wide, let Sense and Truth unclue, We give the palm, where Justice points its due." TO WHICH THE AUTHOR OF THESE PIECES SENT THE FOLLOWING REPLY [i] FOR INSERTION IN THE "MORNING CHRONICLE." Oh, factious viper! whose envenom'd tooth Would mangle, still, the dead, perverting truth; [ii] What, though our "nation's foes" lament the fate, With generous feeling, of the good and great; Shall dastard tongues essay to blast the name [iii] Of him, whose meed exists in endless fame? When PITT expir'd in plenitude of power, Though ill success obscur'd his dying hour, Pity her dewy wings before him spread, For noble spirits "war not with the dead:" His friends in tears, a last sad requiem gave, As all his errors slumber'd in the grave; [iv] He sunk, an Atlas bending "'neath the weight" [v] Of cares o'erwhelming our conflicting state. When, lo! a Hercules, in Fox, appear'd, Who for a time the ruin'd fabric rear'd: He, too, is fall'n, who Britain's loss supplied, [vi] With him, our fast reviving hopes have died; Not one great people, only, raise his urn, All Europe's far-extended regions mourn. "These feelings wide, let Sense and Truth undue, To give the palm where Justice points its due;" [vii] Yet, let not canker'd Calumny assail, [viii] Or round her statesman wind her gloomy veil. FOX! o'er whose corse a mourning world must weep, Whose dear remains in honour'd marble sleep; For whom, at last, e'en hostile nations groan, While friends and foes, alike, his talents own.--[ix] Fox! shall, in Britain's future annals, shine, Nor e'en to PITT, the patriot's 'palm' resign; Which Envy, wearing Candour's sacred mask, For PITT, and PITT alone, has dar'd to ask. [x] (Southwell, Oct., 1806. [1]) [Footnote 1: The stanza on the death of Fox appeared in the _Morning Post_, September 26, 1806.] [Footnote 2: This MS. is preserved at Newstead.] [Footnote i: _The subjoined Reply._ [4to] ] [Footnote ii: _Would mangle, still, the dead, in spite of truth._ [4to] ] [Footnote iii: _Shall, therefore, dastard tongues assail the name Of him, whose virtues claim eternal fame?_ [4to] ]