HOURS OF IDLENESS

AND OTHER EARLY POEMS.1

3. No more doth old Robert, with harp

stringing numbers, Raise a flame, in the breast, for the

war-laurell'd wreath; Near Askalon's towers, John of Horis

tanslumbers, Unnery'd is the hand of his minstrel,

by death.

ON LEAVING NEWSTEAD

ABBEY. "Why dost thou build the hall, Son of the widged days? Thou lookest from thy tower t-das; yet a few years, and the blast of the desart comes: it howls in thy empty court.

OSSIAN.

I. Through thy battlements, Newstead,

the hollow winds whistle: Thou, the ball of my Fathers, art gone

to decay; In thy once smiling garden, the hemlock

and thistle Have choak'd up the rose which late

bloom'd in the way.

2.

of the mail-cover'd Barons, who,

proudly, to battle, Led their vassals from Europe to

Palestine's plain, The escutcheon and shield, which with

ev'ry blast rattle, Are the only sad vestiges now that re

main. ? [There were four distinct issues of Byron's juvenile poems, (i.) Fugitive Pieces, which was mined for private circulation in December, 1800; (ii.) Poems on Various Occasions, printed for private circulation in January, 1807; (iii.) Hours of Idleness, published in June, 1807, and (iv.) Poemas Original and Translated, published in 1808. The whole of the first Lue (the Quarto) was destroyed with the exception of two or three copies. In the present * a general heading, "Hours of Idleness, and other Early Poems," has been applied to the entire collection of Early Poems, 1802-1809.) (The priory of Newstead, or de Novo Loco,

was founded about the year 1170, by Henry II. On the dissolution of the monstenes it was granted (in 1540) by Henry VIII.

Sir John Byron the Little, with the great beard." His portrait is still preserved at

Paul and Hubert too sleep in the valley

of Cressy; For the safety of Edward and Eng

land they fell: My Fathers ! the tears of your country

redress ye: How you fought! how you died ! still her annals can tell.

5. On Marston, with Rupert,} 'gainst trai

tors contending, Four brothers enrich'd, with their

blood, the bleak field; For the rights of a monarch their country

defending, Till death their attachment to royalty

seal'd.' 1 Horistan Castle, in Derbyshire, an ancient seat of the Byron family.

2 The Battle of Marston Moor, where the adherents of Charles I. were defeated.

& Son of the Elector Palatine, and related to Charles I. He afterwards commanded the Fleet, in the reign of Charles II.

* (Sir Nicholas Byron, the great-grandson of Sir John Byron the Little, distinguished himself in the Civil Wars. He was Governor of Carlisle, and afterwards Governor of Chester. His nephew and heir-at-law, Sir John Byron, of Clayton, K.B. (1500-1652), was raised to the peerage as Baron Byron of Rochdale, after the Battle of Newbury, October 20, 1643. He died childless, and was succeeded by his brother Richard, the second lord, from whom the poet was descended. Five younger brothers, as Richard's monument in the chancel of Hucknall Torkard Church records. "faithfully served King Charles the First in the Civil Wars, suffered much for their loyalty, and lost all their present fortunes.”

(See Life of Lord Byron, by Karl Elze: Appendix, Note (A), p. 436.)]

in Sherwood,

Nenstead.)

Hush'd are the winds, and still the even

ing gloom, Not e'en a zephyr wanders through Whilst I return to view my Margaret's

tomb, And scatter flowers on the dust I love.

the grove,

2.

7. Though a tear dim his eye at this sad

separation, 'Tis nature, not fear, that excites his

regret; Far distant he goes, with the same emu

lation, The fame of his fathers he ne'er can forget.

8. That fame, and that memory, still will

he cherish; He vows that he ne'er will disgrace

your renown: Like you will he live, or like you will he

perish; When decay'd, may he mingle his dust with your own!

1803. [First printed, December, 1806.]

Within this narrow cell reclines her clav, That clay, where once such animation

beam'd; The King of Terrors seiz'd her as his

prey; Not worth, nor beauty, have her life

redeem'd.

3. Oh! could that King of Terrors pity

feel, Or Heaven reverse the dread decree of

fate,

1 The author claims the indulgence of the reader more for this piece than, perhaps, any other in the collection, but as it was written at an earlier period than the rest (being composed at the age of fourteen), and his first essay, he preferred submitting it to the indulgence of his friends in its present state, to making either addition or alteration.

(“My first dash into poetry was as early as 1800. It was the ebullition of a passin for my first cousin, Margaret Parker (daughter and granddaughter of the two Admirals Parker), one of the most beautiful of evanescent beings. I have long forgotten the verse; but it would be difficult for me to forget her - her dark eves - her long eye-lashes -- her completely Greek cast of face and figure! I was then about twelve --- she rather older, perhaps 3 year. She died about a year or two wards. Some years after I made attempt at an elegy -- a very dull one.' Leliers, 1001, V. 449.

Margaret Parker was the sister of Sir Peter Parker, whose death at Baltimore, in 1814. Byron celebrated in the “Elegiac Stanzas, which were first published in the poems at tached to the tenth edition of Childe Harold (1815).)

Our souls at least congenial meet,

Nor can thy lot my rank disgrace; Our intercourse is not less sweet, Since worth of rank supplies the place.

November, 1802. [First printed, December, 1806.]

3. And, when the grave restores her dead,

When life again to dust is given, On thy dear breast I'll lay my head Without thee! where would be my Heaven? February, 1803. [First printed, December, 1806.]

TO CAROLINE.

I.

Vot here the mourner would his grief

reveal, Vot here the Muse her virtues would relate.

4. But wherefore weep? Her matchless

spirit soars Beyond where splendid shines the orb

of day; And weeping angels lead her to those

bowers, Where endless pleasures virtuous deeds repay.

5. And shall presumptuous mortals Heaven

arraign! And, madly, Godlike Providence

accuse! Ah! no, iar fly from me attempts so

vain; — I'll ne'er submission to my God refuse.

6. Yet is remembrance of those virtues dear, Yet fresh the memory of that beaute

ous face; Still they call forth my warm affection's

tear, Still in my heart retain their wonted place.

1802. [First printed, December, 1806.]

3. But, when our cheeks with anguish

glow'd, When thy sweet lips were join'd to

mine; The tears that from my eyelids flow'd Were lost in those which fell from

thine.

TO D

4. Thou could'st not feel my burning cheek, Thy gushing tears had quench'd its

flame, And, as thy tongue essay'd to speak,

In sighs alone it breath'd my name.

I.

In thee, I fondly hop'd to clasp
A friend, whom death alone could

sever;
Till envy, with malignant grasp,

Detach'd thee from my breast for

ever.

2. True, she has forc'd thee from my breast,

Yet, in my heart, thou keep'st thy seat; There, there, thine image still must rest,

Cntil that heart shall cease to beat. '(George John, 5th Earl Delawart (1791

)

5. And yet, my girl, we weep in vain,

In vain our fate in sighs deplore; Remembrance only can remain, But that, will make us weep the more.

6. Again, thou best belov’d, adieu !

Ah! if thou canst, o'ercome regret, Nor let thy mind past joys review, Our only hope is, to forget! 1805,

[First printed, December, 1806.)

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