The Works of Lord Byron, Vol. 7. Poetry

3

Justice is now in pursuit of the wretches,
Grenadiers, Volunteers, Bow-street Police,
Twenty-two Regiments, a score of Jack Ketches,
Three of the Quorum and two of the Peace;
Some Lords, to be sure, would have summoned the Judges,
To take their opinion, but that they ne'er shall,
For Liverpool such a concession begrudges,
So now they're condemned by no Judges at all.

4

Some folks for certain have thought it was shocking,
When Famine appeals and when Poverty groans,
That Life should be valued at less than a stocking,
And breaking of frames lead to breaking of bones.
If it should prove so, I trust, by this token,
(And who will refuse to partake in the hope?)
That the frames of the fools may be first to be broken,
Who, when asked for a remedy, sent down a rope.

    [First published, Morning Chronicle, Monday, March 2, 1812.]
    [See a Political Ode by Lord Byron, hitherto unknown as his production, London, John Pearson, 46, Pall Mall, 1880, 8º. See, too, Mr. Pearson's prefatory Note, pp. 5, etc.]

TO THE HON

M

GEORGE LAMB.[25 - [Caroline Rosalie Adelaide St. Jules (1786-1862) married, in 1809, the Hon. George Lamb (see English Bards, etc., line 55, Poetical Works, 1898, i. 300, note 1), fourth son of the first Viscount Melbourne.]]

1

The sacred song that on mine ear
Yet vibrates from that voice of thine,
I heard, before, from one so dear —
'T is strange it still appears divine.

2

But, oh! so sweet that look and tone
To her and thee alike is given;
It seemed as if for me alone
That both had been recalled from Heaven!

3

And though I never can redeem
The vision thus endeared to me;
I scarcely can regret my dream,
When realised again by thee.

    1812.
    [First published in The Two Duchesses, by Vere Foster, 1898, p. 374.]

[LA REVANCHE.]

1

There is no more for me to hope,
There is no more for thee to fear;
And, if I give my Sorrow scope,
That Sorrow thou shalt never hear.
Why did I hold thy love so dear?
Why shed for such a heart one tear?
Let deep and dreary silence be
My only memory of thee!

2

When all are fled who flatter now,
Save thoughts which will not flatter then;
And thou recall'st the broken vow
To him who must not love again —
Each hour of now forgotten years
Thou, then, shalt number with thy tears;
And every drop of grief shall be
A vain remembrancer of me!

    Undated, ?1812.
    [From an autograph MS. in the possession of Mr. Murray, now for the first time printed.]

TO THOMAS MOORE.

WRITTEN THE EVENING BEFORE HIS VISIT TO MR. LEIGH HUNT IN HORSEMONGER LANE GAOL, MAY 19, 1813

Oh you, who in all names can tickle the town,
Anacreon, Tom Little, Tom Moore, or Tom Brown, —[26 - [Moore's "Intercepted Letters; or, The Twopenny Post-Bag, By Thomas Brown, the Younger," was published in 1813.]]
For hang me if I know of which you may most brag,
Your Quarto two-pounds, or your Two-penny Post Bag;

But now to my letter – to yours 'tis an answer —
To-morrow be with me, as soon as you can, sir,
All ready and dressed for proceeding to spunge on
(According to compact) the wit in the dungeon —[27 - [James Henry Leigh Hunt (1784-1859) was imprisoned February, 1813, to February, 1815, for a libel on the Prince Regent, published in the Examiner, March 12, 1812. —Letters, 1898, ii. 205-208, note 1.]]
Pray Phoebus at length our political malice
May not get us lodgings within the same palace!
I suppose that to-night you're engaged with some codgers,
And for Sotheby's Blues[28 - [For "Sotheby's Blues," see Introduction to The Blues, Poetical Works, 1901, iv. 570, et ibid., 579, 580.]] have deserted Sam Rogers;