Paul and Hubert, too, sleep in the valley of Cressy ('); For the safety of Edward and England they fell: My fathers! the tears of your country redress ye; How you fought, how you died, still her annals can tell.

Cn Marston (2), with Rupert (3), 'gainst traitors contending,

Four brothers enrich'd with their blood the bleak

field;

For the rights of a monarch their country defending, Till death their attachment to royalty seal'd. (4)

(1) Two of the family of Byron are enumerated as serving with distinction in the siege of Calais, under Edward III., and as among the knights who fell on the glorious field of Cressy. E.

(2) The battle of Marston Moor, where the adherents of Charles I. were defeated.

(3) Son of the Elector Palatine, and nephew to Charles L. He afterwards commanded the fleet in the reign of Charles II.

(4) Sir Nicholas Byron served with distinction in the Low Countries; and, in the Great Rebellion, he was one of the first to take up arms in the royal cause. After the battle of Edgehill, he was made colonel-general of Cheshire and Shropshire, and governor of Chester. "He was," says Clarendon, a person of great affability and dexterity, as well as martial knowledge, which gave great life to the designs of the well affected; and, with the encouragement of some gentlemen of North Wales, he raised such a power of horse and foot, as made frequent skirmishes with the enemy, sometimes with notable advantage, never with signal loss."

In 1643, Sir John Byron was created Baron Byron of Rochdale in the county of Lancaster; and seldom has a title been bestowed for such high and honourable services as those by which he deserved the gratitude of his royal master. Through almost every page of the History of the Civil Wars, we trace his name in connection with the varying fortunes of the king, and find him faithful, persevering, and disinterested to the last. "Sir John Biron," says Mrs. Hutchinson," afterwards Lord Biron, and all his brothers, bred up in arms, and valiant men in their own persons, were all passionately the king's." We find also, in the reply of Colonel Hutchinson, when governor of Nottingham, to his cousin-german Sir Richard Byron, a noble tribute to the chivalrous fidelity of the race. VOL. VII.

C

Shades of heroes, farewell! your descendant depart

ing

From the seat of his ancestors, bids you adieu ! Abroad, or at home, your remembrance imparting New courage, he'll think upon glory and you.

Though a tear dim his eye at this sad separation, 'Tis nature, not fear, that excites his regret; Far distant he goes, with the same emulation, The fame of his fathers he ne'er can forget.

That fame, and that memory, still will he cherish; He vows that he ne'er will disgrace your renown: Like you will he live, or like you will he perish When decay'd, may he mingle his dust with your own!

1803.

Sir Richard, having sent to prevail on his relative to surrender the castle, received for answer, that "except he found his own heart prone to such treachery, he might consider there was, if nothing else, so much of a Byron's blood in him, that he should very much scorn to betray or quit a trust he had undertaken."

On the monument of Richard, the second Lord Byron, who lies buried in the chancel of Hucknal-Tokard church, there is the following inscrip. tion:-"Beneath, in a vault, is interred the body of Richard Lord Byron, who, with the rest of his family, being seven brothers, faithfully served King Charles the First in the civil wars, who suffered much for their loyalty, and lost all their present fortunes: yet it pleased God so to bless the humble endeavours of the said Richard Lord Byron, that he re-purchased part of their ancient inheritance, which he left to his posterity, with a laudable memory for his great piety and charity."— E.

LINES WRITTEN IN "LETTERS OF AN ITALIAN NUN AND AN ENGLISH GENTLEMAN: BY J. J. ROUSSEAU: FOUNDED ON FACTS."

"Away, away, your flattering arts
May now betray some simpler hearts;
And you will smile at their believing,
And they shall weep at your deceiving."

ANSWER TO THE FOREGOING, ADDRESSED TO MISS

Dear, simple girl, those flattering arts,

From which thou'dst guard frail female hearts,
Exist but in imagination,-

Mere phantoms of thine own creation;
For he who views that witching grace,
That perfect form, that lovely face,
With eyes admiring, oh! believe me,
He never wishes to deceive thee:
Once in thy polish'd mirror glance,
Thou 'lt there descry that elegance

Which from our sex demands such praises,

But envy in the other raises:

Then he who tells thee of thy beauty,

Believe me, only does his duty:

Ah! fly not from the candid youth;
It is not flattery,—'tis truth.

July, 1804.

ADRIAN'S ADDRESS TO HIS SOUL WHEN DYING. (1)

[ANIMULA! vagula, blandula,
Hospes, comesque, corporis,
Quæ nunc abibis in loca-
Pallidula, rigida, nudula,

Nec, ut soles, dabis jocos ?]

АH! gentle, fleeting, wav'ring sprite,
Friend and associate of this clay!
To what unknown region borne,
Wilt thou now wing thy distant flight?
No more with wonted humour gay,
But pallid, cheerless, and forlorn.

TRANSLATION FROM CATULLUS.

AD LESBIAM.

EQUAL to Jove that youth must be
Greater than Jove he seems to me
Who, free from Jealousy's alarms,
Securely views thy matchless charms.
That cheek, which ever dimpling glows,
That mouth, from whence such music flows,
To him, alike, are always known,
Reserved for him, and him alone.

Ah! Lesbia! though 'tis death to me,

I cannot choose but look on thee;

(1) This and several little pieces that follow appear to be fragments of school exercises done at Harrow. - E

But, at the sight, my senses fly;

I needs must gaze, but, gazing, die;
Whilst trembling with a thousand fears,
Parch'd to the throat my tongue adheres,

My pulse beats quick, my breath heaves short,
My limbs deny their slight support,

Cold dews my pallid face o'erspread,

With deadly languor droops my head,
My ears with tingling echoes ring,
And life itself is on the wing;
My eyes refuse the cheering light,
Their orbs are veiled in starless night:
Such pangs my nature sinks beneath,
And feels a temporary death.

TRANSLATION OF THE EPITAPH ON VIRGIL AND TIBULLUS.

BY DOMITIUS MARSUS.

He who sublime in epic numbers roll'd
And he who struck the softer lyre of love,
By Death's (1) unequal hand alike controll'd,
Fit comrades in Elysian regions move!

IMITATION OF TIBULLUS.

"Sulpicia ad Cerinthum."- Lib. 4.

CRUEL Cerinthus ! does the fell disease

Which racks my breast your

fickle bosom please?

(1) The hand of Death is said to be unjust or unequal, as Virgil was considerably older than Tibullus at his decease.