ENGLISH POETRY 1579-1830: SPENSER AND THE TRADITION
[A Lady of Boston,] "On Seeing a Picture of Newstead Park, belonging to a Seat late of the Property of the Right Honourable Lord Byron, 1813" Analectic Magazine [Philadelphia] NS 4 (August 1814) 166-69.
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
A Lady of Boston:
1813: Lord Byron
From scenes like these, that far and wide,
Rise and expand in sylvan pride,
Where fickle man might find in range
From hill to vale, congenial change;
From scenes whose very hues impart
Good and gay cheerfulness of heart,
Could e'er their reckless owner roam,
With guilt and gloom to find a home?
To wander, like the exil'd ghost,
From heavenly fields forever lost,
Doom'd, with Elysium yet in view,
His wayward rovings to pursue,
Where tosses doubt's tumultuous sea
Thy shatter'd wreck, depravity!
Degenerate Gordon! not like thee
Have prov'd thy nobler ancestry,
Nor rambling taste, nor thirst of gain,
From them had wrung their lov'd domain,
Naught lur'd them from their native hall,
But fatal honour's sternest call.
Their only signal to depart,
The beating of a loyal heart;
That, when Culloden's crimson'd bed
Heav'd with the dying and the dead,
Follow'd its guiding beams afar,
Till set in blood the STUART STAR:
While heaven and earth combin'd to sign
The ruin of that royal line!
Son of the Muse — celestial guide!
Wont to inspire far purer pride—
Son of the Muse, had gold the power
To win from thee thy classic bower,
Of Byron should it e'er be told,
His birthright barter'd was — for gold!
Alas! for thou hast sold yet more
Than fragile dome, or earth-born store;
And Virtue mourns, in early day,
A brighter birthright cast away:
What time delirious passion's howl,
Dissolv'd thy priceless pearl, the soul!
O crown'd by heav'n with youth and health,
And mental hoards, and worldly wealth,
Vain the best patrimony's aid;—
Thy debt on high has ne'er been paid.
Thy means, perverted from the aim
That had discharg'd the loftiest claim,
Guilt's lawless traffick lost for thee
The treasures of futurity!
Yet might it be — thyself — thy song
Are causelessly accus'd of wrong;
That tell-tale Fame, though still believ'd,
Has still as constantly deceiv'd;
And thy free soul, unleagued with ill,
Retains its guardian Angel still,
Who, when temptation's friends assail'd,
Has wrestled for thee, and prevailed:—
If so — the burning blush suffuse,
The bitterest tear bedim the Muse;
To find it false, were cause to rue,
Unequall'd, save — to find it true!
Yet must the mind misgive thy lot,
That lingers on this pictur'd spot;
Gazes its many beauties o'er,
And still retains to number more.
Musing what bliss 'twere here to find
A solace for the wearied mind.
When, long sustain'd the various parts
Of public trust, in arms or arts,
Blessing and blest, how fitly here
Might pause from toil a British Peer!
Be welcom'd by the well-known shade,
Where many a truant prank he play'd;
And taste the fruit and pluck the flower,
Creations of his earlier hour.
From courts and camps, in groves like those,
Thy hero, Blenheim! found repose.
To breathe the calm that such inspire,
Would awful Chatham's self retire.
And sacred ever to the shade,
Where, matchless Burke! thy form was laid,
When, pond'ring all thy country's woes,
The genius of Prescience rose,
And spread with visions to thy sight,
As check'd the spirit's hastening flight,
And stopp'd of age the coming night;
Bidding, as erst in Ajalon,
The mental sun not yet go down!
Beside that bright and tranquil stream
How pleasant to recline and dream!
Listening the while its gentle sound
Not even fairy ear might wound,
Nor passing Zephyr dare molest
The sacred quiet of its breast,
In gay transparency complete,
Yet mild as bright — O emblem meet!
The very heaven assign'd the just,
The haunt of beatific trust,
Where no defilement enters e'er,
Seems scarce more fair, more calm, more clear.
Byron! from this and could'st thou pass?
Perchance because its faithful glass
To thy inquiring glance has shown
Features, the contrast of its own.
For other images might find
Access to that distemper'd mind.
The dark wave lashing 'gainst the shore,
The wild cascade's eternal roar,
What scorns, or what maintains control,
Suits the stern habit of thy soul.
Where opes yon vista to disclose
Deep blushing how th' horizon glows,
'Twere sweet to watch the sun descend,
Like patriarch or like patriot's end,
The radiance of whose parting light
Gleams far athwart the grave's long night,
And glances to that distant shore,
Where suns arise, to set no more.
Or where that hill's serener brow
O'erlooks the bustling world below,
Wait till that glorious orb arise,
And ride along the nether skies.
A warrior, awful to assail,
With fiery lance and golden mail;
Who, while his own impassive form
Derides of earth and heaven the storm,
Has ireful shafts so swift, so sure,
That mortal strength can ne'er endure;
When that, in vengeance like a God,
O'er scorching realms he proudly trod,
But oftener when he glads the view,
Like as a God in bounty too,
Pouring his flood of light and light,
O'er teeming plains and mountains bright;
Painting each flower with colours gay;
Darting the diamond's sparkling ray;
And making earth her stores unfold
Of ruddy fruit and waving gold.
The holiest heart was e'er bestow'd,
Might hail him on his heavenly road,
And pardon that the pagan knee
Had bent in fond idolatry.
Sweet scene, farewell! Although these eyes
Behold thee but through mimic dies;
Though ne'er my step may wander o'er
To ancient Albion's distant shore;
Yet for this semblance shall my heart
Long bless the imitative art.
But thou whose meed it was to know
The substance of this shadowy show,
At will to visit such a shrine,
With the high consciousness — 'twas thine;
Could'st thou — whate'er the Syren call—
From such an Eden fly — self driven?
Its social bower, its festive ball,
Its lawns, its waters, its all!—
"O how could'st thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven."