ENGLISH POETRY 1579-1830: SPENSER AND THE TRADITION
Sw***, "The Pilgrim's Lament on the Death of Lord Byron" Imperial Magazine 6 (September 1824) 847-49.
1808: Hewson Clarke
1808: Henry Brougham
1809: Melesina Chenevix Trench
1810: Robert Southey
1810: Rev. Francis Hodgson
1811: Rev. Francis Hodgson
1811: John Murray
1812: Henry Crabb Robinson
1812: Mary Russell Mitford
1812: Granville Penn
1812: Sarah S. Pugh
1812: B. B.
1812: George Ellis
1812: Francis Jeffrey
1812: Thomas Denman
1812: Chandos Leigh
1813: J. C. Blaby
1813: Rev. Francis Hodgson
1813: A Lady of Boston
1813: Henry Gally Knight
1814: George Daniel
1814: Thomas Barnes
1814: H. S. B.
1814: T. C. Holland
1814: B. B.
1814: Unus Multorum
1814: Tom Tit
1814: James Hogg
1815: James Hogg
1815: T. Dutton
1815: Robert Gilmour
1815: C. S.
1815: C. S.
1815: John Taylor Esq.
1815: W. J. Extempore
1815: George Ticknor
1816: John Hamilton Reynolds
1816: John Murray
1816: Melesina Chenevix Trench
1816: Leigh Hunt
1816: George Taylor
1816: Thomas Stott
1816: Sir Walter Scott
1816: Francis Jeffrey
1816: Chandos Leigh
1817: John Chalk Claris
1817: A Lady of Glasgow
1817: John Neal
1818: Sir Walter Scott
1818: John Chalk Claris
1818: P. G. Patmore
1818: Mr. Rymer
1818 ca.: Elizabeth Cobbold
1818: An Old Friend
1818: Sir Walter Scott
1818: John Wilson
1818: Chandos Leigh
1818: Rev. Barton Bouchier
1819: John Keats
1819: Rev. Lionel Thomas Berguer
1819: William Gifford
1820: Jeremiah Holmes Wiffen
1820: Charles Lamb
1820: William Wordsworth
1820: David Carey
1820: Thomas Mulock
1820: John Wilson Croker
1821: Rev. William Lisle Bowles
1821: John Scott
1821: Bryan Waller Procter
1821: W. H. S.
1821: George Milner
1822: Samuel Taylor Coleridge
1822: John Graham of Lifford
1822: James Harley
1822: Robert S. Coffin
1822: G. G-m
1823: Frances Wright
1823: J. H.
1824: Eleanor Dickinson
1824: Sir Walter Scott
1824: Richard Hatt
1824: A Harrow School-Fellow
1824: J. J. Leathwick
1824: Thomas Charleton Smith
1824: John Dodderidge Humphreys
1824: Nathaniel Hazeltine Carter
1824: Bernard M. Carter
1824: Rev. Carlos Wilcox
1824: Elizabeth Barrett Browning
1824: Dr. James McHenry
1824: T. W. R.
1824: James Gordon Brooks
1824: Charles Sprague
1824: Robert Southey
1824: Dabney Carr Terrell
1824: Thomas Haynes Bayly
1824: J. S. W.
1824: Thomas Stott
1824: Thomas Stott
1824: W. P. B.
1824: Matthew Gregory Lewis
1824: J. B.
1824: John Taylor Esq.
1824: Sarah S. Pugh
1825: William Hazlitt
1825: Rev. William Lisle Bowles
1825: Thomas Enort Smith
1825: Hugh Brown
1825: Charles Caleb Colton
1825: Sophia Hyatt
1825: Charles Symmons
1825: Elisha Tatham
1826: George Lunt
1826: Richard Ryan
1827: James Hogg
1827: C. T. R.
1827: M. A. B., aged 14
1828: Leigh Hunt
1828: Walter Savage Landor
1828: Rev. George Croly
1828: H. Cox
1829: Mary Howitt
1829: Anna Brownell Jameson
1829: Rev. Oliver William Bourne Peabody
1829: James Gordon Brooks
1830: Rev. Henry Francis Cary
1830: Felicia Hemans
1830: Rev. George Barrell Cheever
1830: John Herman Merivale
1830: C. H.
1830: Mary Shelley
1830: John Wilson Croker
1830: William Kennedy
1831: Sir Samuel Egerton Brydges
1831: John Wilson
1831: Willis Gaylord Clark
1831: Henry Gally Knight
1831: Thomas Babington Macaulay
1832: John Abraham Heraud
1832: John Taylor Esq.
1833: Alaric Alexander Watts
1833: Allan Cunningham
1837: Caroline Norton
1839: Chandos Leigh
1842: Robert Story
1843: John Holland
1846: John Dix
1851: Dr. David Macbeth Moir
1857: Samuel Griswold Goodrich
1873: Joseph Devey
1877: Bryan Waller Procter
1880: John Addington Symonds
1891: Samuel Smiles
1893: George Saintsbury
1824: Lord Byron
Methought I heard, in pensive strain,
A weary wanderer thus complain:—
"The night was dark, my way was far,
I gladly hail'd one brilliant star,
And fondly hop'd that star should throw
Along my path its radiant glow:
But treach'rous, as too oft the gleam
Of earthly promises, it shed
A fitful, tho' a lovely beam,
Betraying where it should have led.
"Yet still, with pilgrim-steps, I trod
The beaten, tho' the toilsome road,
And solac'd by a constant ray
That inly beam'd to cheer my way,
A light that ever, ever shone,
My path was track'd, my haven won.
But ere that haven won, I saw,—
And, even as I tell, I shiver,—
I saw that beauteous star withdraw,
And set in awful shades forever.
"'Twas so — there came upon my ear
The sounds of fierce contention near;
And soon my scarcely piercing sight
Discern'd, amid the shades of night,
Two furious foes, whose angry mood
Predicted coming deeds of blood.
The haughty threat, the madman's rave,
The tyrant here might well betray,
While nobler tokens mark'd the slave
Resolv'd to cast his chains away.
"Tho' nobly born, and nobly now
Determin'd never more to bow,
For many a year, the one had been
A wretched vassal, base and mean;
Till rous'd by long-abus'd control,
In native majesty of soul,
He stood, amid the gloom, unaw'd,
Where hop'd the despot, tho' in vain,
To make the rebel own him 'lord,'
And wear his slavish bonds again.
"The menace on the lips of fear
Yet courage kindling by despair,
The panting breath, the' greedy eye
Of avarice in agony,
Bespoke forewarnings of an hour
Ordain'd to crush the tyrant's pow'r,
While, Moslem-like, against the star
That balk'd his perfidy, he rail'd;
And bless'd the moon, whose crescent-car
Had borne her where the darkness veil'd.
"Not thus his foe, who seem'd as one
Of those who fought at Marathon:
His ample brow reveal'd the soul
Where noble passions conscious roll;
And clad in potent honour's might,
The hero hail'd each beam of light.
And now forth sprang each thirsty sword,
And now the deadly fight began,
The tyrant aiming to be lord,
The vassal struggling to be man.
"And now that star which, heretofore,
An evil aspect only wore,
Beam'd forth as if an angel's eye
Were looking down in sympathy;
It almost seem'd, so true it shone,
For past offences to atone:
And thus, like some blest spirit's smile
Approving some ennobling aim,
Its mingling radiance awhile
Enliven'd freedom's glorious flame.
"But scarce had beam'd its cheering light
On liberty's reviving sight,
Scarce tyranny began to throw
His curses on the dazzling glow,
When suddenly an awful cloud
Involv'd it in a death-like shroud
So quick, so dark, so black, so chill,
Like judgment's unexpected rod,
It came so solemnly and still—
That cloud was sure the hand of God!
"Alas! I hop'd that splendid light,—
Now quench'd, for ever quench'd in night—
When first I saw its steady blaze
Succeed its ill-expended rays,
And shine in freedom's cause so true,
Ere long should guide the pilgrim too.
Lamenting thus, I rais'd my eyes
To where its lustre once had been,
And saw its beams, with glad surprise,
Supplied by stars till now unseen.
"The ills I fancied mast ensue
When such a glorious light withdrew,
That freedom's growing nerve should fail,
And proud oppression yet prevail—
Not one of all I fear'd befell;
The cause of freedom prosper'd well.
Reprov'd, I bow'd my head and blush'd,
To own the moment's thought as mine,
That heaven would see its offspring crush'd,
Tho' ev'ry star should cease to shine."
The pilgrim paus'd — I saw a tear
Had check'd his fervid utt'rance here—
"Think not," said he, "this tribute given
To any glittering star of heaven;
The star I told thee of was one
That yet amongst them might have shone,
But track'd its low erratic way
When brightest, but of little worth,
Oft sparkling only to betray
A useless, wand'ring star of earth.
"I mourn a wretched man of wo,
Who only seem'd to live to shew
That birth, and wealth, and mighty mind,
And nigh the worship of his kind,
Without religion's pure control,
Could bring no sunshine to the soul.
I view'd him passion-bound to earth,
Yet, when I saw his arm appear,
Outstretch'd in aid of freedom's birth.
I hop'd his freedom too was near.
"But, no! — as if pure liberty
Polluted by his touch would be,
As if some pow'r had struck the blow
That fear'd the friend might prove a foe,
He sank — nor would I wither now
One fragrant flow'r that wreath'd his brow—
But yet I mourn the life mispent,
The mischief unretriev'd in death,
The couch where no kind angel bent
With healing troth on balmy breath.
I mourn" — and here the pilgrim sigh'd—
"To think how BYRON liv'd — and died!"