4.

Where once my wit, perchance, hath shone,

In aid of others' let me shine;

And when, alas! our brains are gone,

What nobler substitute than wine?

5.

Quaff while thou canst : another race,
When thou and thine, like me, are sped,

May rescue thee from earth's embrace,
And rhyme and revel with the dead.

6.

Why not? since through life's little day
Our heads such sad effects produce;
Redeem'd from worms and wasting clay,
This chance is theirs, to be of use.

Newstead Abbey, 1808. [First published in the
seventh edition of Childe Harold.]

WELL! THOU ART HAPPY.!!

I.

WELL! thou art happy, and I feel

That I should thus be happy too;

i. To Mrs.

[erased].-[MS. L.]

To -[Imit. and Transl. Hobhouse, 1809.]

I. [These lines were written after dining at Annesley with Mr. and Mrs. Chaworth Musters. Their daughter, born 1806, and now Mrs. Hamond, of Westacre, Norfolk, is still (January, 1898) living.]

For still my heart regards thy weal
Warmly, as it was wont to do.

2.

Thy husband's blest-and 'twill impart
Some pangs to view his happier lot:↳
But let them pass-Oh! how my heart
Would hate him if he loved thee not!

3.

When late I saw thy favourite child,

I thought my jealous heart would break;

But when the unconscious infant smil'd,

I kiss'd it for its mother's sake.

4.

I kiss'd it, and repress'd my sighs
Its father in its face to see ;

But then it had its mother's eyes,

And they were all to love and me.

5.".

Mary, adieu! I must away:

While thou art blest I'll not repine; But near thee I can never stay;

My heart would soon again be thine.

i. Some pang to see my rival's lot.—[MS. L.] ii. MS. L. inserts

Poor little pledge of mutual love,

I would not hurt a hair of thee,
Although thy birth should chance to prove
Thy parents' bliss—my misery.

6.

I deem'd that Time, I deem'd that Pride,

Had quench'd at length my boyish flame; Nor knew, till seated by thy side,

My heart in all,-save hope,—the same.

7.

Yet was I calm: I knew the time

My breast would thrill before thy look;

But now to tremble were a crime

We met, and not a nerve was shook.

8.

I saw thee gaze upon my face,

Yet meet with no confusion there: One only feeling couldst thou trace; The sullen calmness of despair.

9.

Away! away! my early dream

Remembrance never must awake:

Oh! where is Lethe's fabled stream?
My foolish heart be still, or break.

November 2, 1808. [First published, 1809.]

INSCRIPTION ON THE MONUMENT OF A
NEWFOUNDLAND DOG.1

WHEN some proud son of man returns to earth,
Unknown to glory, but upheld by birth,

of woe

The sculptor's art exhausts the pomp
And storied urns record who rest below:
When all is done, upon the tomb is seen,

Not what he was, but what he should have been :

1. [This monument is placed in the garden of Newstead. A prose inscription precedes the verses :

"Near this spot

Are deposited the Remains of one
Who possessed Beauty without Vanity,
Strength without Insolence,
Courage without Ferocity,

And all the Virtues of Man without his Vices.
This Praise, which would be unmeaning Flattery
If inscribed over human ashes,

Is but a just tribute to the Memory of
BOATSWAIN, a Dog,

Who was born at Newfoundland, May, 1803,
And died at Newstead Abbey, Nov. 18, 1808."

Byron thus announced the death of his favourite to his friend Hodgson :--"Boatswain is dead!-he expired in a state of madness on the 18th after suffering much, yet retaining all the gentleness of his nature to the last; never attempting to do the least injury to any one near him. I have now lost everything except old Murray.” In the will which the poet executed in 1811, he desired to be buried in the vault with his dog, and Joe Murray was to have the honour of making one of the party. When the poet was on his travels, a gentleman, to whom Murray showed the tomb, said, "Well, old boy, you will take your place here some twenty years hence." I don't know that, sir,” replied Joe; “if I was sure his lordship would come here I should like it well enough, but I should not like to lie alone with the dog.”— Life, pp. 73, 131.]