[52] [Byron forwarded these lines to Moore in a postscript to a letter dated September 27, 1813. "Here's," he writes, "an impromptu for you by a 'person of quality,' written last week, on being reproached for low spirits."--_Letters_, 1898, ii. 268. They were written at Aston Hall, Rotherham, where he "stayed a week ... and behaved very well--though the lady of the house [Lady F. Wedderburn Webster] is young, and religious, and pretty, and the master is my particular friend."--_Letters_, 1898, ii. 267.] [ce] {70} _And bleed_----.--[MS. M.] [53] ["Redde some Italian, and wrote two Sonnets.... I never wrote but one sonnet before, and that was not in earnest, and many years ago, as an exercise--and I will never write another. They are the most puling, petrifying, stupidly platonic compositions."--_Diary_, December 18, 1813; _Letters_, 1898, ii. 379.] [cf] {71} ----_Hope whispers not from woe_.--[MS. M.] [54] ["In moments to delight devoted 'My Life!' is still the name you give, Dear words! on which my heart had doted Had Man an endless term to live. But, ah! so swift the seasons roll That name must be repeated never, For 'Life' in future say, 'My Soul,' Which like my love exists for ever." Byron wrote these lines in 1815, in Lady Lansdowne's album, at Bowood.--Note by Mr. Richard Edgecombe, _Notes and Queries_, Sixth Series, vii. 46.] THE GIAOUR: A FRAGMENT OF A TURKISH TALE. "One fatal remembrance--one sorrow that throws Its bleak shade alike o'er our joys and our woes-- To which Life nothing darker nor brighter can bring, For which joy hath no balm--and affliction no sting." MOORE. ["As a beam o'er the face," etc.--_Irish Melodies_.] INTRODUCTION TO _THE GIAOUR_