I ["This morning Lord Byron came from his bedroom into the apartment where Colonel Stan hope and some friends were assembled, and sud with a smile 'You were complaining, the other day, that I never write any poetry now: this is my birthday, and I have just finished something which, I think, is better than what I ustay write.' He then produced these noble and å fecting verses, which were afterwards found written in his journals, with only the following introduction: Jan. 22; on this day I compet my 36th year.' A Narrative of Lord Be Last Journey to Greece, 1825, p. 125, by Count Gamba.]