The Works of Lord Byron - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
ON NAPOLEON'S ESCAPE FROM ELBA.[63]
ONCE fairly set out on his party of pleasure, Taking towns at his liking, and crowns at his leisure, From Elba to Lyons and Paris he goes, Making _b.a.l.l.s for_ the ladies, and _bows to_ his foes.
_March 27, 1815._ [First published, _Letters and Journals_, 1830, i. 611.]
FOOTNOTES:
[63] [It may be taken for granted that the "source" of this epigram was a paragraph in the _Morning Chronicle_ of March 27, 1815: "In the _Moniteur_ of Thursday we find the Emperor's own account of his _jaunt_ from the Island of Elba to the palace of the Thuilleries. It seems certainly more like a jaunt of pleasure than the progress of an invader through a country to be gained."]
ENDORs.e.m.e.nT TO THE DEED OF SEPARATION, IN THE APRIL OF 1816.
A YEAR ago you swore, fond she!
"To love, to honour," and so forth: Such was the vow you pledged to me, And here's exactly what 't is worth.
[First published, _Poetical Works_, 1831, vi. 454.]
[TO GEORGE ANSON BYRON(?)[64]]
1.
AND, dost thou ask the reason of my sadness?
Well, I will tell it thee, unfeeling boy!
'Twas ill report that urged my brain to madness, 'Twas thy tongue's venom poisoned all my joy.
2.
The sadness which thou seest is not sorrow; My wounds are far too deep for simple grief; The heart thus withered, seeks in vain to borrow From calm reflection, comfort or relief.
3.
The arrow's flown, and dearly shalt thou rue it; No mortal hand can rid me of my pain: My heart is pierced, but thou canst not subdue it-- Revenge is left, and is not left in vain.
?1816.
[First published, _Nicnac_, March 25, 1823.]
FOOTNOTES:
[64] ["A short time before Lord Byron quitted England, in 1816, he addressed these lines to an individual by whom he deemed himself injured; they are but little known."--_Nicnac_, March 25, 1823.]
SONG FOR THE LUDDITES.[65]
1.
AS the Liberty lads o'er the sea Bought their freedom, and cheaply, with blood, So we, boys, we Will _die_ fighting, or _live_ free, And down with all kings but King Ludd!
2.
When the web that we weave is complete, And the shuttle exchanged for the sword, We will fling the winding sheet O'er the despot at our feet, And dye it deep in the gore he has poured.
3.
Though black as his heart its hue, Since his veins are corrupted to mud, Yet this is the dew Which the tree shall renew Of Liberty, planted by Ludd!
December 24, 1816.
[First published, _Letters and Journals_, 1830, ii. 58.]
FOOTNOTES:
[65] [The term "Luddites" dates from 1811, and was applied first to frame-breakers, and then to the disaffected in general. It was derived from a half-witted lad named Ned Lud, who entered a house in a fit of pa.s.sion, and destroyed a couple of stocking-frames. The song was an impromptu, enclosed in a letter to Moore of December 24, 1816. "I have written it princ.i.p.ally," he says, "to shock your neighbour [Hodgson?]
who is all clergy and loyalty--mirth and innocence--milk and water." See _Letters_, 1900, iv. 30; and for General Lud and "Luddites," see _Letters_, 1898, ii. 97, note 1.]
TO THOMAS MOORE.
What are you doing now, Oh Thomas Moore?
What are you doing now, Oh Thomas Moore?
Sighing or suing now, Rhyming or wooing now, Billing or cooing now, Which, Thomas Moore?
But the Carnival's coming, Oh Thomas Moore!
The Carnival's coming, Oh Thomas Moore!
Masking and humming, Fifing and drumming, Guitarring and strumming, Oh Thomas Moore!
December 24, 1816.
[First published, _Letters and Journals_, 1830, ii. 58, 59.]
TO MR. MURRAY.
TO hook the Reader, you, John Murray, Have published "Anjou's Margaret,"[66]
Which won't be sold off in a hurry (At least, it has not been as yet); And then, still further to bewilder him, Without remorse, you set up "Ilderim;"[67]
So mind you don't get into debt,-- Because--as how--if you should fail, These books would be but baddish bail.
And mind you do _not_ let escape These rhymes to _Morning Post_ or Perry, Which would be _very_ treacherous--_very_, And get me into such a sc.r.a.pe!
For, firstly, I should have to sally, All in my little boat, against a _Galley_; And, should I chance to slay the a.s.syrian wight, Have next to combat with the female Knight: And p.r.i.c.ked to death expire upon her needle, A sort of end which I should take indeed ill!
March 25, 1817.
[First published, _Letters and Journals_, 1830, ii. 91.]
FOOTNOTES:
