66 GRANTA. A MEDLEY. « Αργυρέαις λόγχαισι μάχου καὶ πάντα Κρατήσαις;” OH! Could Le Sage's (1) demon's gift This night my trembling form he'd lift Then would, unroof'd, old Granta's halls Then would I view each rival wight, circled her, much personal beauty, and a disposition the most amiable and attaching. Though already fully alive to her charms, it was at this period (1804) that the young poet seems to have drunk deepest of that fascination whose effects were to be so lasting; six short weeks which he passed in her company being sufficient to lay the foundation of a feeling for all life. With the summer holidays ended this dream of his youth. He saw Miss Chaworth once more in the succeeding year, and took his last farewell of her on that hill near Annesley, which, in his poem of The Dream,' he describes so happily as crowned with a peculiar diadem.'” In August, 1805, she was married to John Musters, Esq.; and died at Wiverton Hall, in February, 1832, in consequence, it is believed, of the alarm and danger to which she had been exposed during the sack of Colwick Hall by a party of rioters from Nottingham. The unfortunate lady had been in a feeble state of health for several years, and she and her daughter were obliged to take shelter from the violence of the mob in a shrubbery, where, partly from cold, partly from terror, her constitution sustained a shock which it wanted vigour to resist. — E. (1) The Diable Boiteux of Le Sage, where Asmodeus, the demon, places Don Cleofas on an elevated situation, and unroofs the houses for inspection. (2) On the death of Mr. Pitt, in January, 1806, Lord Henry Petty and Lo! candidates and voters lie (1) All lull'd in sleep, a goodly number: A race renown'd for piety, Whose conscience won't disturb their slumber. Lord H -(2), indeed, may not demur; Fellows are sage reflecting men: They know preferment can occur But very seldom, now and then. They know the Chancellor has got Now from the soporific scene I'll turn mine eye, as night grows later, To view, unheeded and unseen, The studious sons of Alma Mater. There, in apartments small and damp Goes late to bed, yet early rises. Lord Palmerston were candidates to represent the University of Cambridge in parliament.-E. (1) The fourth and fifth stanzas ran, in the private volume, thus: "One on his power and place depends, The other on the Lord knows what! Each to some eloquence pretends, Though neither will convince by that. "The first, indeed, may not demur; Fellows are sage reflecting men," &c.- E (2) Edward-Harvey Hawke, third Lord Hawke. He surely well deserves to gain them, Who sacrifices hours of rest To scan precisely metres attic; Who reads false quantities in Seale (1), Renouncing every pleasing page From authors of historic use; Still, harmless are these occupations, Which bring together the imprudent; (1) Seale's publication on Greek Metres displays considerable talent and ingenuity, but, as might be expected in so difficult a work, is not remarkable for accuracy. (2) The Latin of the schools is of the canine species, and not very intelligible. (3) The discovery of Pythagoras, that the square of the hypothenuse is equal to the squares of the other two sides of a right-angled tri angle. Whose daring revels shock the sight, Not so the methodistic crew, Forgetting that their pride of spirit, 'Tis morn:-from these I turn my sight. Loud rings in air the chapel bell; 'Tis hush'd:-what sounds are these I hear? The organ's soft celestial swell Rolls deeply on the list'ning ear. To this is join'd the sacred song, (1) On a saint's day, the students wear surplices in chapel. Our choir would scarcely be excused, To such a set of croaking sinners. If David, when his toils were ended, Had heard these blockheads sing before him, To us his psalms had ne'er descended, — In furious mood he would have tore 'em. The luckless Israelites, when taken Oh! had they sung in notes like these, They might have set their hearts at ease, But if I scribble longer now, The deuce a soul will stay to read: My pen is blunt, my ink is low; 'Tis almost time to stop, indeed. Therefore, farewell, old Granta's spires! No more thy theme my muse inspires: 1806. |