Each knell of Time now warns me to resign

Shades where Hope, Peace, and Friendship all were mine:

Hope, that could vary like the rainbow's hue
And gild their pinions as the moments flew;
Peace, that reflection never frown'd away,
By dreams of ill to cloud some future day;
Friendship, whose truth let childhood only tell;
Alas! they love not long, who love so well.
To these adieu! nor let me linger o'er
Scenes hail'd, as exiles hail their native shore,
Receding slowly through the dark-blue deep,
Beheld by eyes that mourn, yet cannot weep.
Dorset, farewell! I will not ask one part
Of sad remembrance in so young a heart;
The coming morrow from thy youthful mind
Will sweep my name, nor leave a trace behind.
And yet, perhaps, in some maturer year,

Since chance has thrown us in the self-same

sphere,

Since the same senate, nay, the same debate,
May one day claim our suffrage for the state,
We hence may meet, and pass each other by
With faint regard, or cold and distant eye.
For me, in future, neither friend nor foe,
A stranger to thyself, thy weal or woe,
With thee no more again I hope to trace
The recollection of our early race;

No more, as once, in social hours rejoice,
Or hear, unless in crowds, thy well-known voice
Still, if the wishes of a heart untaught

To veil those feelings which perchance it ought,

If these,-but let me cease the lengthen'd strain,-
Oh! if these wishes are not breathed in vain,
The guardian seraph who directs thy fate

Will leave thee glorious, as he found thee great. (1)

1805.

FRAGMENT.

WRITTEN SHORTLY AFTER THE MARRIAGE OF MISS CHAWORTH.

HILLS of Annesley, bleak and barren,
Where my thoughtless childhood stray'd,
How the northern tempests, warring,
Howl above thy tufted shade!

Now no more, the hours beguiling,

Former favourite haunts I see;

Now no more my Mary smiling
Makes ye seem a heaven to me.

e.(2)

1805.

(1) I have just been, or rather ought to be, very much shocked by the death of the Duke of Dorset. We were at school together, and there 1 was passionately attached to him. Since, we have never met, but once, I think, since 1805- and it would be a paltry affectation to pretend that I had any feeling for him worth the name. But there was a time in my life when this event would have broken my heart; and all I can say for it now is, that- it is not worth breaking. The recollection of what I once felt, and ought to have felt now, but could not, set me pondering, and finally into the train of thought which you have in your hands. Byron's Letters, 1815.-(The verses referred to were those melancholy ones, beginning,

"There's not a joy the world can give, like those it takes away."- E.)

(2) The circumstances which lent so peculiar an interest to Lord Byron's introduction to the family of Chaworth are sufficiently explained in the "Notices of his Life," vol. i. p. 84. "The young lady herself combined," says the writer, "with the many worldly advantages that en

GRANTA. A MEDLEY.

• Αργυρέας λόγχαισι μάχου καὶ πάντα Κρατήσαις;”

OH! Could Le Sage's (1) demon's gift
Be realized at my desire,

This night my trembling form he'd lift
To place it on St. Mary's spire

Then would, unroof'd, old Granta's halls
Pedantic inmates full display;
Fellows who dream on lawn or stalls,
The price of venal votes to pay.

Then would I view each rival wight,
Petty and Palmerston survey;
Who canvass there with all their might,
Against the next elective day. (2)

circled her, much personal beauty, and a disposition the most amiable and attaching. Though already fully alive to her charms, it was at this period (1804) that the young poet seems to have drunk deepest of that fascination whose effects were to be so lasting; six short weeks which he passed in her company being sufficient to lay the foundation of a feeling for all life. With the summer holidays ended this dream of his youth. He saw Miss Chaworth once more in the succeeding year, and took his last farewell of her on that hill near Annesley, which, in his poem of 'The Dream,' he describes so happily as crowned with a peculiar diadem.'" In August, 1805, she was married to John Musters, Esq.; and died at Wiverton Hall, in February, 1852, in consequence, it is believed, of the alarm and danger to which she had been exposed during the sack of Colwick Hall by a party of rioters from Nottingham. The unfortunate lady had been in a feeble state of health for several years, and she and her daughter were obliged to take shelter from the violence of the mob in a shrubbery, where, partly from cold, partly from terror, her constitution sustained a shock which it wanted vigour to resist. — E

(1) The Diable Boiteux of Le Sage, where Asmodeus, the demon, places Don Cleofas on an elevated situation, and unroofs the houses for inspection. (2) On the death of Mr. Pitt, in January, 1806, Lord Henry Petty and

Lo! candidates and voters lie (1)

All lull'd in sleep, a goodly number:

A race renown'd for piety,

Whose conscience won't disturb their slumber.

Lord H.

-(2), indeed, may not demur; Fellows are sage reflecting men: They know preferment can occur

But very seldom,—now and then.

They know the Chancellor has got
Some pretty livings in disposal:
Each hopes that one may be his lot,
And therefore smiles on his proposal.

Now from the soporific scene

I'll turn mine eye, as night grows later, To view, unheeded and unseen,

The studious sons of Alma Mater.

There, in apartments small and damp
The candidate for college prizes
Sits poring by the midnight lamp;
Goes late to bed, yet early rises.

Lord Palmerston were candidates to represent the University of Cambridge in parliament.-E.

(1) The fourth and fifth stanzas ran, in the private volume, thus:

"One on his power and place depends,

The other on-the Lord knows what!

Each to some eloquence pretends,

Though neither will convince by that.

"The first, indeed, may not demur;

Fellows are sage reflecting men," &c.-E.

(2) Edward-Harvey Hawke, third Lord Hawke.

He surely well deserves to gain them,
With all the honours of his college,
Who, striving hardly to obtain them,
Thus seeks unprofitable knowledge:

Who sacrifices hours of rest

To scan precisely metres attic ;
Or agitates his anxious breast
In solving problems mathematic:

Who reads false quantities in Seale (1),
Or puzzles o'er the deep triangle;
Deprived of many a wholesome meal;
In barbarous Latin (2) doom'd to wrangle:

Renouncing every pleasing page

From authors of historic use; Preferring to the letter'd sage,

The square of the hypothenuse. (3)

Still, harmless are these occupations,
That hurt none but the hapless student
Compared with other recreations,

Which bring together the imprudent;

(1) Seale's publication on Greek Metres displays considerable talent and ingenuity, but, as might be expected in so difficult a work, is not remarkable for accuracy.

(2) The Latin of the schools is of the canine species, and not very intel. ligible.

(3) The discovery of Pythagoras, that the square of the hypothenuse is equal to the squares of the other two sides of a right-angled tri angle.