To these adieu! nor let me linger o'er Dorset, farewell! I will not ask one part1 Since chance has thrown us in the self-same sphere, We hence may meet, and pass each other by No more, as once, in social hours rejoice, Or hear, unless in crowds, thy well-known voice; To veil those feelings, which, perchance, it ought, Oh! if these wishes are not breath'd in vain, i. D-r-t farewell.-[Poems O. and T.] 90 100 IIO 1805. TO THE EARL OF CLARE. Tu semper amoris Sis memor, et cari comitis ne abscedat imago. I. FRIEND of my youth! when young we rov'd, Like striplings, mutually belov'd, With Friendship's purest glow; The bliss, which wing'd those rosy hours, 2. The recollection seems, alone, Dearer than all the joys I've known, When distant far from you: Though pain, 'tis still a pleasing pain, And sigh again, adieu ! 3. My pensive mem'ry lingers o'er, Those scenes to be enjoy'd no more, Those scenes regretted ever; The measure of our youth is full, i. To the Earl of [Poems O. and T.] 4. As when one parent spring supplies Two streams, which from one fountain rise, Together join'd in vain ; How soon, diverging from their source, Each, murmuring, seeks another course, 5. Our vital streams of weal or woe, Though near, alas! distinctly flow, Nor mingle as before: Now swift or slow, now black or clear, 6. Our souls, my Friend! which once supplied One wish, nor breathed a thought beside, Now flow in different channels: Disdaining humbler rural sports, 'Tis yours to mix in polish'd courts, And shine in Fashion's annals; 7. 'Tis mine to waste on love my time, Or vent my reveries in rhyme, Without the aid of Reason; For Sense and Reason (critics know it) Nor left a thought to seize on. 8. Poor LITTLE! sweet, melodious bard! Of late esteem'd it monstrous hard By dire Reviewers should be branded, 9. And yet, while Beauty's praise is thine, Repine not at thy lot. Thy soothing lays may still be read, And critics are forgot. IO. Still I must yield those worthies merit Who chasten, with unsparing spirit, Bad rhymes, and those who write them: 1. These stanzas were written soon after the appearance of a severe critique in a northern review, on a new publication of the British Anacreon. [Byron refers to the article in the Edinburgh Review, of July, 1807, on "Epistles, Odes, and other Poems, by Thomas Little, Esq."] And though myself may be the next By critic sarcasm to be vext, I really will not fight them.1 II. Perhaps they would do quite as well He who offends at pert nineteen, i. Now A very harden'd sinner. 12. Now, Clare, I must return to you;1 Accept, then, my concession. In truth, dear Clare, in Fancy's flight " My Muse admires digression. 13. I think I said 'twould be your fate I must.-[Poems O. and T.] ii. In truth dear · in fancy's flight.-[Poems O. and T.] 1. A bard [Moore] (Horresco referens) defied his reviewer [Jeffrey] to mortal combat. If this example becomes prevalent, our Periodical Censors must be dipped in the river Styx for what else can secure them from the numerous host of their enraged assailants? [Cf. English Bards, 1. 466, note.] |