Trembling, she snatch'd him from the unequal Again the master on his tenure dwells,
In other fields the torrent to repel; [strife, Enjoy'd, from absence, with enraptured zest.
For nobler combats, here, reserved his life,
To lead the band where godlike Falkland fell.+Vassals, within thy hospitable pale,

From thee, poor pile ! to lawless plunder given, While dying groans their painful requiem sound,

Far different incense now ascends to heaven,

Such victims wallow on the gory ground. There many a pale and ruthless robber's corse. Noisome and ghast, defiles thy sacred sod; O'er iningling man, and horse commix'd with horse,

Corruption's heap, the savage spoilers trod. Graves, long with rank and sighing weeds o'erspread,

Ransack'd, resign perforce their mortal mould; From ruffian fangs escape not e'en the dead,

Loudly carousing, bless their lord's return;
Culture again adorns the gladdening vale,
And matrons, once lamenting, cease to mourn.
A thousand songs on tuneful echoes float,
Unwonted foliage mantles o'er the trees;
And hark! the horns proclaim a mellow note,
The hunter's cry hangs lengthening on the
breeze.

Beneath their coursers' hoofs the valleys shake:
What fears, what anxious hopes, attend the
chase!

The dying stag seeks refuge in the lake;
Exulting shouts announce the finish'd race.
Ah, happy days! too happy to endure !
Such simple sports our plain forefathers knew:

Raked from repose in search of buried gold. No splendid vices glitter'd to allure;

Hush'd is the harp, unstrung the warlike lyre,

The minstrel's palsied hand reclines in death;
No more he strikes the quivering chords with fire,
Or sings the glories of the martial wreath.
At length the sated murderers, gorged with prey,
Retire the clamour of the fight is o'er;
Silence again resumes her awful sway,

And sable Horror guards the massy door.
Here Desolation holds her dreary court:

What satellites declare her dismal reign!
Shrieking their dirge, ill-omen'd birds resort,
To flit their vigils in the hoary fane.
Soon a new morn's restoring beams dispel
The clouds of anarchy from Britain's skies;
The fierce usurper seeks his native hell,

And Nature triumphs as the tyrant dies.
With storms she welcomes his expiring groans;|
Whirlwinds, responsive, greet his labouring
breath;

Farth shudders as her caves receive his bones,
Loathing the offering of so dark a death.‡
The legal ruler§ now resumes the helm,

He guides through gentle seas the prow of state; Hope cheers, with wonted smiles, the peaceful realm,

And heals the bleeding wounds of wearied hate. The gloomy tenants, Newstead! of thy cells, Howling, resign their violated nest;

Lord Byron and his brother Sir William held high commands in the royal army. The former was general-in-chief in Ireland, lieutenant of the Tower, and governor to James Duke of York, afterwards the unhappy James II.; the latter had a principal share in many actions.

+ Lucius Cary, Lord Viscount Falkland, the most accomplished man of his age, was killed at the battle of Newbury, charging in the ranks of Lord Byron's regiment of cavalry. This is an historical fact. A violent tempest occurred immediately subsequent to the death or interment of Cromwell. which occasioned many disputes between his partisans and the cavaliers; both interpreted the circumstance into divine. interposition; but whether as approbation or condemnation, we leave for the casuists of that age to decide. I have made such use of the occurrence as suited the subject of my poem.

§ Charles II.

Their joys were many, as their cares were few. From these descending, sons to sires succeed; Time steals along, and Death uprears his dart: Another chief impels the foaming steed,

Another crowd pursue the panting hart. Newstead! what saddening change of scene is thine!

Thy yawning arch betokens slow decay!
The last and youngest of a noble line

Now holds thy mouldering turrets in his sway.
Deserted now, he scans thy grey worn towers;
Thy vaults, where dead of feudal ages sleep;
Thy cloisters, pervious to the wintry showers;
These, these he views, and views them but to
weep.

Yet are his tears no emblein of regret :

Cherish'd affection only bids them flow.
Pride, hope, and love forbid him to forget,
But warm his bosom with impassion'd glow.
Yet he prefers thee to the gilded domes

Or gewgaw grottos of the vainly great;
Yet lingers 'mid thy damp and mossy tombs,
Nor breathes a murmur 'gainst the will of fate.
Haply thy sun, emerging, yet may shine,

Thee to irradiate with meridian ray;
Hours splendid as the past may still be thine,
And bless thy future as thy former day.

CHILDISH RECOLLECTIONS.

I cannot but remember such things were,
And were most dear to me.'

WHEN slow Disease with all her host of pains,
Chills the warm tide which flows along the veins;
When Health, affrighted, spreads her rosy wing.
And flies with every changing gale of spring:
Not to the aching frame alone confined,
Unyielding pangs assail the drooping mind:
What grisly forms, the spectre-train of woe,
Bid shuddering Nature shrink beneath the blow.

With Resignation wage relentless strife,
While Hope retires appall'd, and clings to life!
Yet less the pang when, through the tedious
hour,

Remembrance sheds around her genial power,
Calls back the vanish'd days to rapture given,
When love was bliss, and beauty form'd our
heaven;

Or, dear to youth, portrays each childish scene,
Those fairy bowers, where all in turn have been.
As when through clouds that pour the summer
The orb of day unveils his distant form, [storm
Gilds with faint beams the crystal dews of rain,
And dimly twinkles o'er the watery plain;
Thus, while the future dark and cheerless
gleams,

The sun of memory, glowing through my dreams,
Though sunk the radiance of his former blaze,
To scenes far distant points his paler rays;
Still rules my senses with unbounded sway,
The past confounding with the present day.
Oft does my heart indulge the rising thought,
Which still recurs, unlook'd for and unsought;
My soul to Fancy's fond suggestion yields,
And roams romantic o'er her airy fields.
Scenes of my youth, developed, crowd to view,
To which I long have bade a last adieu!
Seats of delight, inspiring youthful themes;
Friends lost to me for aye, except in dreams :
Some who in marble prematurely sleep,
Whose forms I now remember but to weep;
Some who yet urge the same scholastic course
Of early science, future fame the source;
Who, still contending in the studious race,
In quick rotation fill the senior place.
These with a thousand visions now unite,
To dazzle, though they please, my aching sight.
Ida! blest spot, where Science holds her reign,
How joyous once I join'd thy youthful train !
Bright in idea gleams thy lofty spire,
Again I mingle with thy playful quire;
Our tricks of mischief, every childish game,
Unchanged by time or distance, seems the same;
Through winding paths along the glade, I trace
The social smile of every welcome face;
My wonted haunts, my scenes of joy and woe,
Each early boyish friend, or youthful foe.
Our feuds dissolved, but not my friendship

past,

I bless the former, and forgive the last.

When now the boy is ripen'd into man,
His careful sire chalks forth some wary plan ;
Instructs his son from candour's path to shrink,
Smoothly to speak, and cautiously to think;
Still to assent, and never to deny-
A patron's praise can well reward the lie:
And who, when Fortune's warning voice is heard,
Would lose his opening prospects for a word?
Although against that word his heart rebel,
And truth indignant all his bosom swell.

Away with themes like this! not mine the task
From flattering friends to tear the hateful mask;
Let keener bards delight in satire's sting;
My fancy soars not on Detraction's wing:
Once, and but once, she aim'd a deadly blow,
To hurl defiance on a secret foe;

But when that foe, from feeling or from shame,
The cause unknown, yet still to me the same,
Warn'd by some friendly hint, perchance
retired,

With this submission all her rage expired.
From dreaded pangs that feeble foe to save,
She hush'd her young resentment, and forgave ;
Or, if my muse a pedant's portrait drew,
Pomposus' virtues are but known to few:
I never fear'd the young usurper's nod,
And he who wields must sometimes feel the rod.
If since on Granta's failings, known to all
Who share the converse of a college hall,
She sometimes trifled in a lighter strain,
'Tis past, and thus she will not sin again;
Soon mast her early song for ever cease,
And all may rail when I shall rest in peace.

Here first remember'd be the joyous band,
Who hail'd me chief, obedient to command;
Who join'd with me in every boyish sport—
Their first adviser, and their last resort;
Nor shrunk beneath the upstart pedant's frown,
Or all the sable glories of his gown;
Who, thus transplanted from his father's
Unfit to govern, ignorant of rule- [school-
Succeeded him, whom all unite to praise,
The dear preceptor of my early days:
Probus, the pride of science, and the boast,
To Ida now, alas ! for ever lost.
With him, for years, we search'd the classic
And fear'd the master, though we loved the sage;
Retired at last, his small yet peaceful seat
From learning's labour is the blest retreat.

Hours of my youth! when, nurtured in my Pomposus fills his magisterial chair;

breast,

*

[page,

Pomposus governs-but, my muse, forbear:

His name and precepts be alike forgot:

To love a stranger, friendship made me blest,-Contempt, in silence, be the pedant's lot;
Friendship, the dear peculiar bond of youth,
When every artless bosom throbs with truth;
Untaught by worldly wisdom how to feign,
And check each impulse with prudential rein;
When all we feel, our honest souls disclose-
In love to friends, in open hate to foes;
No varnish'd tales the lips of youth repeat,

* Dr Drury. This most able and excellent man retired from his situation in March, 1805, after having resided thirty-five years at Harrow; the last twenty as head-master; an office he held with equal honour to himself and advantage to the very extensive school over which he presided. Panegyric would here be superfluous; it would be useless to enumerate qualifications which were never doubted. A considerable contest

No dear-bought knowledge purchased by deceit. took place between three rival candidates for his vacant chair:

Hypocrisy, the gift of lengthen'd years,

Matured by age, the garb of prudence wears.

of this I can only say,

Si mea cum vestris valuissent vota, Pelasgit
Non foret ambiguus tanti certaminis hæres.

No more his mention shall my verse degrade,
To him my tribute is already paid.

Here Probus came, the rising fray to quell,
And here he falter'd forth his last farewell;
And here one night abroad they dared to roam,

High, through those elms, with hoary branches While bold Pomposus bravely stay'd at home;' crown'd,

Fair Ida's bower adorns the landscape round:
There Science, from her favour'd seat, surveys
The vale where rural Nature claims her praise;
To her awhile resigns her youthful train,
Who move in joy, and dance along the plain;
In scatter'd groups each favour'd haunt pursue;
Repeat old pastimes, and discover new;
Flush'd with his rays, beneath the noontide sun,

In rival bands between the wickets run,
Drive o'er the sward the ball with active force,
Or chase with nimble feet its rapid course.
But these with slower steps direct their way,

Where Brent's cool waves in limpid currents

stray;

While yonder few search out some green retreat,
And arbours shade them from the summer heat:
Others, again, a pert and lively crew, [view,
Some rough and thoughtless stranger placed in
With frolic quaint their antic jests expose,
And tease the grumbling rustic as he goes;
Nor rest with this, but many a passing fray
Tradition treasures for a future day:

[fought,
'Twas here the gather'd swains for vengeance
And here we earn'd the conquest dearly bought;
Here have we fled before superior might,
And here renew'd the wild tumultuous fight.'
While thus our souls with early passions swell,
In lingering tones resounds the distant bell;
Th' allotted hour of daily sport is o'er,

And Learning beckons from her temple's door.
No splendid tablets grace her simple hall,
But ruder records fill the dusky wall;
There, deeply carved, behold! each tyro's name
Secures its owner's academic fame;

While thus they speak, the hour must soon arrive,
When names of these, like ours, alone survive:
Yet a few years, one general wreck will whelm
The faint remembrance of our fairy realm.

Dear honest race! though now we meet no

more,

One last long look on what we were before-
Drew tears from eyes unused to weep with you.
Our first kind greetings, and our last adieu--
Through splendid circles, fashion's gaudy world,
Where folly's glaring standard waves unfurl'd,
I plunged to drown in noise my fond regret,
And all I sought or hoped was to forget. [face,

around,

Vain wish! if chance some well-remember'd
Some old companion of my early race,
Advanced to claim his friend with honest joy,
My eyes, my heart, proclaim'd me still a boy;
The glittering scene, the fluttering groups
Were quite forgotten when my friend was found;
The smiles of beauty-(for, alas! I've known
The smiles of beauty, though those smiles were
What 'tis to bend before Love's mighty throne)-
[near;

dear,

Could hardly charm me, when that friend was
My thoughts bewilder'd in the fond surprise,
The woods of Ida danced before my eyes
I saw the sprightly wanderers pour along,
saw and join'd again the joyous throng;
Panting, again I traced her lofty grove,
And friendship's feelings triumph'd over love.

Yet why should I alone with such delight
Retrace the circuit of my former flight?
Is there no cause beyond the common claim

Here mingling view the names of sire and son-Endear'd to all in childhood's very name?
The one long graved, the other just begun :
These shall survive alike when son and sire
Beneath one common stroke of fate expire;
Perhaps their last memorial these alone,
Denied in death a monumental stone,
Whilst to the gale in mournful cadence wave
The sighing weeds that hide their nameless
grave.

And here my name, and many an early friend's,
Along the wall in lengthen'd line extends,
Though still our deeds amuse the youthful race,
Who tread our steps, and fill our former place,
Who young obey'd their lords in silent awe,
Whose nod commanded, and whose voice was
law;

And now, in turn, possess the reins of power,
To rule the little tyrants of an hour;
Though sometimes with the tales of ancient day,
They pass the dreary winter's eve away-
'And thus our former rulers stemm'd the tide,
And thus they dealt the combat side by side;
Just in this place the mouldering walls they
scaled,

Nor bolts nor bars against their strength avail'd:

Ah! sure some stronger impulse vibrates here,
Which whispers friendship will be doubly dear
To one who thus for kindred hearts must roam,
And seek abroad the love denied at home.
Those hearts, dear Ida, have I found in thee-
A home, a world, a paradise to me.
Stern Death forbade my orphan youth to share
The tender guidance of a father's care.
Can rank, or e'en a guardian's name, supply
The love which glistens in a father's eye?
For this can wealth or title's sound atone,
Made, by a parent's early loss, my own?
What brother springs a brother's love to seek?
What sister's gentle kiss has prest my cheek?
For me how dull the vacant moments rise,
To no fond bosom link'd by kindred ties !
Oft in the progress of some fleeting dream
Fraternal smiles collected round me seem ;
While still the visions to my heart are prest,
The voice of love will murmur in my rest :
I hear I wake-and in the sound rejoice;
I hear again,-but ah! no brother's voice.
A hermit, midst of crowds, I fain would stray
Alone, though thousand pilgrims fill the way