Note 84 — SONNET XLIX. ON THE USE OF NEW AND OLD WORDS IN POETRY.

l. 14. For they do—The particle for is used in the same sense with because, by Shakespear, and Beaumont and Fletcher.

[85] l. 12. Odorous—Milton, in the Par. Lost, gives the lengthened and harmonious accent to that word, rather than the short, and common one:

[86] l. 14. Along the gloom—“It fadeth at the crowing of the cock.”—Hamlet.

[87] l. 14. Sun-bright zone—Ensigns of Apollo’s Priesthood.

[88] l. 9. Young hind—“Vitas hinnuleo me similis Chloe.”

[89] In Lichfield Cathedral the funeral rites are performed early in the morning.

[90] The above Sonnet was addressed to a friend, who had fastidiously despised, because he did not think it exquisite sculpture, the statue of a water-nymph in Mr Knight’s singular, and beautiful cold bath at Downton Castle near Ludlow. It rises amidst a rotunda, formed by rocks, and covered with shells and fossils, in the highest elevation of that mountainous and romantic scene.

[91] Then of Sutton Coldfield.

[92] When this Sonnet was written, the subject of it had languished three years beneath repeated paralytic strokes, which had greatly enfeebled his limbs, and impaired his understanding. Contrary to all expectation he survived three more years subject, through their progress, to the same frequent and dreadful attacks, though in their intervals he was apparently free from pain or sickness.

[93] When Johnson’s idolaters are hard pressed concerning his injustice in those fallacious though able pages;—when they are reminded that he there tells us the perusal of Milton’s Paradise Lost is a task, and never a pleasure;—reminded also of his avowed contempt of that exquisite Poem, the Lycidas;—of his declaration that Dryden’s absurd Ode on the death of Mrs Anne Killegrew, written in Cowley’s worst manner, is the noblest Ode in this language;—of his disdain of Gray as a lyric poet; of the superior respect he pays to Yalden, Blackmore, and Pomfret;—When these things are urged, his adorers seek to acquit him of wilful misrepresentation by alledging that he wanted ear for lyric numbers, and taste for the higher graces of Poetry:—but it is impossible so to believe, when we recollect that even his prose abounds with poetic efflorescence, metaphoric conception, and harmonious cadence, which in the highest degree adorn it, without diminishing its strength. We must look for the source of his injustice in the envy of his temper. When Garrick was named a candidate for admission into the Literary Club, Dr Johnson told Mr Thrale he would black-ball him. “Who, Sir? Mr Garrick! Companion of your youth! your acknowledged friend!”—“Why, Sir, I love my little David better than any, or all of his flatterers love him; but surely we ought to sit in a society like ours, ’unelbow’d by a Gamester, Pimp, or Player.” See Supplement to Dr Johnson’s Letters, published by Mrs Piozzi.

[94] l. 1. Youthful Milton lay—This romantic circumstance of our great Poet’s juvenility was inserted, as a well known fact, in one of the General Evening Posts in the Spring 1789, and it was there supposed to have formed the first impulse of his Italian journey.

[95] In jargon, like the following, copied from a Review, are works of Genius perpetually criticised in our public prints:—“Passion has not sufficient coolness to pause for metaphor, nor has metaphor ardour enough to keep pace with passion.”—Nothing can be less true. Metaphoric strength of expression will burst even from vulgar and illiterate minds when they are agitated. It is a natural effort of roused sensibility in every gradation, from unlettered simplicity to the highest refinement. Passion has no occasion to pause for metaphors, they rush upon the mind which it has heated. Similies, it is true, are not natural to strong emotion. They are the result of spirits that are calm, and at leisure to compare.

[96] l. 6. Storied galleries—“And storied windows richly dight.”

[97] This Sonnet was written on having read a description of the Killarney scenery immediately after that of the Vale of Vaucluse, uncultivated and comparatively desert as the latter has been through more than the present century.

[98] l. 2 Green lustre—The lustre of the brightest of the stars always appeared to me of a green hue; and they are so described by Ossian.

[99] l. 1 Luxurious taste—The Romans, in general, made no regular meal till the business of the day was over. They considered a mid-day feast as a mark of indolence and luxury.

[100] l. 1.—“Diis miscent superis. A manner of expression not unusual amongst the Greeks and Latins, for any eminent degree of happiness. Unless we adopt this explanation of the words, says Dacier, we shall make Horace guilty of a manifest contradiction, since a few lines farther he tells his patron, that his suffrage, not the ivy crown is that, which will exalt him to the skies. The judicious emendation of the late Bishop of Chichester, who for Me doctarum, reads Te doctarum, removes all objection; and adds beauty to the Ode by the fine compliment it contains to Mæcenas.”—Brom. Hor.

[101] l. 7. Neptune’s fane—Horace alludes to the custom of the Roman mariners after a shipwreck—that of suspending their garments, which had been drenched in the storm, in the temple of Neptune, together with a votive tablet, on which the circumstances of the danger and escape, were painted.

[102] He had been twice Consul; was of Brutus’ and Cassius’ party, but went over to Augustus, who received him with kind respect. However he revolted from him, persuaded by the friends of Marc Antony, that the battle of Actium would decree the Empire to that General. The event, so contrary, brought Munatius back to the feet of Augustus, but he was not received with former kindness, nor did he deserve it, and retired, chagrined, to his fine seat at Tivoli, in the wood of Tiburnus, so called from the neighbouring city, Tibur. There also, and near the falls of Tivoli, described at full in Mr Gray’s letters, Horace had a villa. The poet, perceiving the spirits of Munatius dejected, writes this Ode to reconcile him to his destiny, and to inspire him with delight in the beautiful scenery by which he was surrounded; insinuating, that should Augustus banish him, which was no improbable event, he ought not to despond, but to form his conduct upon the spirited example of Teucer; who, together with his friends and followers was banished his native city, Salamis, by his father, because he had not revenged upon the Greeks the death of his brother Ajax.—The disinterested design of this Ode, and the humane attention it pays to a disgraced nobleman, are much to the poet’s honour, who was perhaps, in general, more disposed to gratulate the powerful, than to sooth the unfortunate.

[103] l. 1. p. 231. Far-famed Rhodes—The capital of an island of the same name in the Mediterranean, and famous for the Colossal Statue.

[104] l. 2. p. 231. Mitylene—The chief city of Lesbos, praised by Cicero for its advantageous situation, elegant buildings, and fertile soil.

[105] l. 4. Tawny Olive’s—It was believed that Minerva presented the seed of the olive-tree to the Athenians.

[106] l. 1. Larissa—A beautiful city, upon one of the hills in Thessaly.

[107] l. 11. This surely must be the poet’s meaning in mentioning his own villa, when he is endeavouring to awaken in Munatius a taste for the surrounding beauties of his more magnificent seat. Commentators rationally conclude that some connecting lines have been lost from the Latin of this Ode. It appears to me, that the idea which those dismembered lines conveyed, must necessarily have been the comparison added in the four ensuing lines, which makes the transition easy.

[108] This Ode was probably written at the country seat of that nobleman, near the mountain Soracte, in Tuscany, twenty-six miles from Rome.

[109] l. 2. Silent Liris—A beautiful river of remarkably placid current. It rises near Sora, a city of Latium, which it divides from Campania.

[110] l. 15. More than once—The Poet deems it a peculiar mark of the favour of the Deities when the merchant is enabled safely to make repeated voyages in one year through hazardous seas.

[111] l. 15. Icarian fate—Penna metuente solvi must surely be allusive to the dissolving pinions of Icarus—and mean, that deeds of private generosity are apt to melt from the recollection of mankind; while those of what is called heroic exertion go down to Posterity. For this idea of the passage the translator was indebted to a learned friend.

[112] l. 8. Savage scene—The author had the pleasure of passing a fortnight with Mr and Mrs Erskine at Buxton, in August 1796.

[113] This Ode is addressed to his friend, an illustrious Roman, who had lost a beloved son. The poetic literature of Titus Valgius is ascertained by the honourable mention made of him by Horace, in his Tenth Satire, Book the First. Valgius, like Sir Brooke Boothby, in these days had poured forth a train of elegiac sorrows over the blight of his filial hopes. Horace does not severely reprove these woes, he only wishes they may not be eternal, and that he will, at least, suspend them and share the public joy; for this Ode was composed while the splendid victories, which Augustus had obtained in the East, were recent.

[114] l. 4. Vex’d Caspian—The Caspian is a stormy and harbourless sea—Yet the poet observes that not even the Caspian is always tempestuous—insinuating, that inevitable as his grief must be for such a loss, it yet ought not to be incessant.

[115] l. 2. Armenia’s lands—The coldness of Armenia is well known, surrounded as it is by the high mountains of Niphates, Pariades, Antiaurus, and Ararat, which are always covered with snow.

[116] l. 10. Vesper trembles—alike the evening and morning star—appearing first and remaining last in the horizon, it ushers in both the evening and the dawn. In the first instance it is called Vesper, or Hesperus, in the last Lucifer, or Phospher.

[117] l. 15. Filial hopes—Antilochus, the son of Nestor, observing his father likely to fall in battle, by the sword of his adversary, threw himself between the combatants, and thus sacrificed his own life to preserve that of his parent.

[118] l. 9. Medus—By the rivers Medus, and Niphates, are meant the Parthians, or Scythians, for they are the same people, and the Armenians. The river Tigris, rising in the cold mountain Niphates, Horace gives its name to the stream, as he does that of Medus to the Euphrates, which Plato asserts to have been formerly so called. Uniting those rivers in his verse, the poet means to denote the Roman conquest over two enemies widely distant from each other.

[119] l. 12. Scythians rein—The Scythians, or Parthians, were a warlike people, famous for their equestrian prowess, for the speed of their horses, and for the unerring aim of their arrows, shot when flying on full speed. Augustus obliged their king, Phraates, not only to restore the Roman standards and prisoners, taken many years before, but to withdraw his troops from Armenia.

[120] Licinius Murena was a Patrician of high rank, one of the brothers of Proculeius, whose fraternal generosity is celebrated in the Ode to Sallust, the ninth of these Paraphrases. The property of Licinius had been confiscated for having borne arms against the second Triumvirate. Upon this confiscation Proculeius divided two-thirds of that large fortune, with which the Emperor had rewarded his valour and fidelity in the royal cause, between Licinius, and his adopted brother, Terentius, whose fortunes had suffered equal wreck on account of the party he had taken. Horace wrote this Ode soon after the affectionate bounty of Proculeius had restored his friend to affluence. It breathes a warning spirit towards that turbulent, and ambitious temper, which Horace perceived in this young nobleman. The poet, however, has used great address and delicacy, making the reflections not particular but general; and he guards against exciting the soreness people feel from reprehension for their prevailing fault, by censuring with equal freedom the opposite extreme. That kind caution insinuated in this Ode, proved eventually vain, as did also the generosity of the Emperor, who soon after permitted Licinius to be chosen Augur;—probably at the intercession of his favourite Mæcenas, who had married Terentia, a daughter of that house, and whom Horace calls Licinia in the Ode which is next paraphrased. Upon the election of Licinius to this post of honour, trust, and dignity, we perceive the spirits of Horace greatly elevated; probably as much from the pleasure he knew Mæcenas would take in the promotion of his brother-in-law, as from the attachment himself bore to Licinius. A peculiar air of hilarity shines out in the Ode addressed to Telephus, written the evening on which this Licinius, then newly chosen Augur, gave his first supper to his friends. The reader will find it somewhat lavishly paraphrased in the course of this selection. By the above Ode the poet seems to have feared the seditious disposition of Licinius:—but when he afterwards strung his lyre to notes of triumph for the honours of his friend, he little imagined that friend would finally suffer death for ungratefully conspiring against the monarch, who had so liberally overlooked his former enmity.

[121] l. 18.—Epidemic diseases were, by the Pagans, believed to be the effect of having offended Apollo. The arrows he shoots among the Greeks in the first Book of the Iliad, produce the pestilence, which follows the rape of his Priest’s daughter, Chryseis. When we consider the dependence of the human constitution upon the temperate, or intemperate influence of the sun, the avenging bow of Phœbus appears an obvious allegory;—and since it is in the hours of health that the fine arts are sought and cultivated, the sun, under the name of Phœbus, Apollo, &c. is with equal propriety of fable, supposed their patron, as well as the avenger of crimes by the infliction of diseases.

[122] Of that artful caution, which marks the character of Horace, this Ode forms a striking instance. He declines the task appointed by his patron, that of describing the Italian wars, because he foresees that in its execution he must either disoblige the Emperor and his Minister, by speaking too favourably of their enemies, or offend some friends, whom he yet retained amongst those, who had exerted themselves against the Cæsars. Horace endeavours to soften the effect of this noncompliance by a warm panegyric upon Licinia, the betrothed bride of Mæcenas. She is in other places called Terentia. Both these names have affinity to those of her brothers, Licinius, afterwards Augur, and her adopted brother, Terentius.

Horace mentions plainly the Numantian wars, and those with Hannibal, but artfully speaks of those of Brutus, and Cassius, and of the character of Antony, under fabulous denominations, sufficiently understood by Augustus, and his Minister. Dacier justly observes how easy it is to discern, that by the Lapithæ, and Giants, defeated by Hercules on the plains of Thessaly, the poet means the armies of Brutus, and Cassius, defeated by Augustus, almost in the same place, at the battle of Philippi. He concludes also that by Hylæus is meant Mark Antony, who assumed the name of Bacchus, and ruined himself by his profligate passion for Cleopatra. Another commentator observes, that as the Giants, and Lapithæ, are said to have made the palace of Saturn shake, so also did Brutus, and Cassius, and afterwards Mark Antony, make all Italy tremble, and that it is Rome itself that Horace would have to be understood by the magnificent Palace of Saturn. Some critics seek to destroy all the common sense, beauty, and character of this Ode, by denying the allegoric interpretation; and also by insisting that Licinia was the poet’s own mistress, and not the mistress of his patron. It had been absurd, and inconceivably unmeaning, if, when he was requested to sing the triumphs of Augustus in the Italian wars, he should, during the brief mention of them, have adverted to old fables, uniting them, not as a simile, but in a line of continuation with the Numantian, and Carthaginian wars; unless, beneath those fables, he shadowed forth the Roman enemies of Augustus.

The idea that Licinia was the mistress of Horace, has surely little foundation:—for it were strange indeed if he could take pleasure in describing amorous familiarities between Mæcenas, and the person with whom himself was in love. One of these critics alleges, as the reason why this lady could not be the destined bride of Mæcenas, that it would have been as indiscreet in him to have admitted Horace to be a witness of his passion for Licinia-Terentia, as it would have been impertinent in the poet, to have invaded the privacies of his patron. It is not necessary, from this Ode, to conclude that Horace had witnessed the tender scene he describes. He might, without any hazard of imputed impertinence, venture to paint, from his imagination, the innocently playful endearments of betrothed lovers. The picture was much more likely to flatter than to disgust the gay, and gallant Mæcenas.

[123] l. 12. Diana’s shrine—The Roman ladies, according to ancient custom, danced with entwined arms, around the Altar of Diana, on the day of her Festival.

[124] It was common with the Antients to consecrate fountains by a sacrifice, and vinous libations, poured from goblets crowned with flowers. Lively imaginations glow over the idea of such a beautiful ceremony.

[125] At the feast, held in honour of Licinius Murena having been chosen Augur, Horace endeavours to turn the conversation towards gayer subjects than Grecian Chronology, and the Trojan war, upon which his friend Telephus had been declaiming; and for this purpose seems to have composed the ensuing Ode at table. It concludes with a hint, that the unpleasant state of the poet’s mind, respecting his then mistress, incapacitates him for abstracted themes, which demand a serene and collected attention, alike inconsistent with the amorous discontent of the secret heart, and with the temporary exhilaration of the spirits, produced by the occasion on which they were met. This must surely be the meaning of Horace in this Ode, however obscurely expressed. People of sense do not, even in their gayest conversation, start from their subject to anoher of total inconnection. When the latent meaning in the concluding verses is perspicuously paraphrased, it accounts for the poet’s preference at that period, of trifling to literary subjects. These slight, and often obscure allusions, closely, and what is called faithfully translated, give a wild and unmeaning air to the Odes of Horace, which destroys their interest with the unlearned admirers of poetry. To give distinct shape and form to these embryo ideas, often capable of acquiring very interesting form and shape, is the aim of these Paraphrases.

Telephus, who was a Greek, appears to have been a youth of noble birth—being mentioned as such in the Ode to Phyllis, which will be found farther on amongst these Paraphrases. From that to Lydia, so well known, and so often translated, we learn that he had a beautiful form, and was much admired by the Roman ladies.

[126] l. 6 Poignant gust—The translator was doubtful about using that word, till she recollected it in the gravest of Pope’s Poems,

[127] l. 7. Aglaia—The eldest of the Graces.

[128] l. 12. Dusky wreaths ascend—The Romans made fires in the middle of their rooms, with a hole in the ceiling, to let out the smoke, which is described as rolling to the top of the house.

[129] l. 16. Love-chosen month—The feast of Venus was held by the Romans in April.

[130] l. 5. Illustrious Telephus—It is agreed that this is the same young nobleman to whom the Ode is addressed, on Licinius being appointed Augur, and which has been paraphrased in this Collection.

[131] The reader will remember, that in the course of these Paraphrases the design has been avowed of stretching the pictures of Horace upon a wider canvas, of filling up what are so often mere outlines. If learned eyes ever glance over this Ode, it is hoped they will not frown upon the many circumstances and reflections which have been added, upon a presumption, induced by the pleasing nature of the subject, since the Roman customs and manners are preserved with fidelity. Those customs and manners, resulting from their festal, gay, and picturesque religion, cannot surely be presented without proving interesting. Yet, to create this interest, stronger and more circumstantial description seems required than can be found in Horace, if the Paraphraser may be allowed to judge of the poetic feelings of others by her own. It was doubtless sufficient for his contemporary readers, and for those of some succeeding generations, that he slightly alluded to events and ceremonies, which were familiar to their recollection. In our day more precision is demanded, at least by those who have poetic taste without knowledge of the dead languages, or intimacy with the national and domestic customs of that time, and of that people. Also, to strengthen this necessary interest in the mind of the reader, it must be eligible to infuse a more liberal portion of those sentiments and ideas, which speak to the heart in every age, and in every climate.

To scholars the fascinating music of the Latin tones and measures, and the elegance with which Horace knew to select, and to regulate them, recompence the obscurity which is so frequent in his allusions, and in the violence of his transitions from one subject to another, between which the line of connection is with difficulty traced. What is called a faithful translation of these Odes cannot, therefore, be interesting to unlearned lovers of verse, how alive soever they may be to poetic beauty.—A literal translation in the plainest prose, will always shew the precise quantity of real poetic matter, contained in any production, independent of the music of its intonation, and numbers, and the elegance of its style.—The prose translations of Horace’s Odes evince that their merit does not consist in the plenitude of poetic matter, or essence, constituted by circumstances of startling interest, by exalted sentiment, impassioned complaint, or appeal, distinct and living imagery, happy apposite allusion, and sublime metaphor; but in certain elegant verbal felicities and general charm of style, produced by the force and sweetness of the Latin language, subservient to the fine ear, the lively and exquisite taste of Horace. These are the graces which we find so apt to evaporate in translation, while genuine Poetic Matter, as defined above, is capable of being transfused into any other language without losing a particle of its excellence, provided the chemist, who undertakes the operation, has genius and skill. The more this poetic matter in an author abounds, the more close and faithful a translator, who has judgment, may venture to render his version—but to transfuse merely verbal felicities into another language is an attempt scarcely less fruitless than to clasp the rainbow. A kindred nothingness, as to poetic value, ensues. There is, however, a considerable, though not abounding quantity of poetic matter, or essence, in Horace; but it bears no proportion to the profusion of those evanescent glories, which will not bear the grasp of another language. To give that essence in increased quantity, and in the freedom of unimitative numbers, is attempted in this selection. Dryden and Pope translated upon that plan, and hence their Paraphrases have the spirit of original poems.

Ere this note closes, its Author desires to observe, that painters cannot take a striking likeness of a face in which there is no predominant feature, and the poet can only make his image, or description, distinct, animated, and forcible, by bringing forward some characteristic trait of the object he is presenting. When Horace says in this Ode, “How pleasing is it to see the well-fed sheep hastening home,” the observation is not picturesque, and therefore does not strongly impress the imagination; but when he adds—“to see the weary oxen dragging, with languid neck, the inverted ploughshare,” he gives perhaps the most poetic feature in this Ode. Had he only said, “to see the oxen returning from their labour,” his oxen had been as much without character as his sheep, and the sentence must have passed unimpressive over the mind of the reader. It is the words—dragging, with languid neck, the inverted ploughshare, that makes the sentence Poetry, and empowers it to arrest and charm the fancy. Had Horace always written thus, undeviating fidelity had been the best aim of his translator, and the sure way of rendering him delightful in every language.

[132] l. 1. p. 293. Dacier observes that vines supported on the highest trees produce wines of the most exquisite flavour.

[133] l. 17. The feast of Terminus, one of the rural gods, was held on the first of February, at which time, in those warm climates, the spring is very forward.

[134] l. 20. Hungry wolf releas’d—The Romans fancied that the struggle and terror of a kid on being seized by the wolf, made its flesh more tender.

[135] l. 2. Ides—The middle of a month.

[136] l. 3. Calends—The beginning of the next month.

[137] l. 12. Ruthless fratricide—Romulus, who killed his brother Remus, for ridiculing his wall by leaping over it.

[138] l. 1.—The English Ballad uses the past tense thro’ the three first stanzas; this Paraphrase the more dramatic, more impressive present tense. The distant clocks, marking the midnight hour, is not in either the Ballad or the Latin poem. In William and Margaret, each stanza rhymes only twice, but the first has no rhyme. Our best writers use the imperfect rhymes freely, and I think to the advantage of their verse, as mourn and scorn, abode and God, frost and coast;—but feet and sleep, which are given as rhymes in the exordium of that Ballad, are not within the bounds of privilege.

[139]

The epithet lily is too nice and pretty for its situation, and sable seems utterly improper, since shrouds were white in Mallet’s time, as in ours. Perhaps the epithet sable, temporarily inapplicable, has been one reason for believing the whole of this Ballad ancient, since it was probably the old custom to wrap the dead in black stuff, or linen. The gathering up the sepulchral robe from her feet, instead of merely holding it, is one of Vincent Bourne’s variations, and adds the grace of motion to the figure. Statue-like stillness is not necessary to apparition-costume. The ghost in Hamlet beckons the prince to follow it.

[140] l. 1. This apostrophe to a young prince is another improvement in the Latin version. It preserves the moral of the original and less spirited stanza, with heightened force from the personal address, and from the grand image in the third line. Compare it with the stanza in the Ballad:

Here is no picture, and years after youth in the second line, form a pleonasm;—but the exquisite music produced by the alliteration in those two words, and by the number of vowels in the line, disarms criticism.

[141] l. 5.—This stanza in the Ballad is common-place; in the Latin poem it is an original and charming description of a young beauty; yet to that which speaks only of her smiles and blushes, the charms of her eyes are added by the figure of the morning star in this Paraphrase. In the next stanza also, the discriminating “et faciles risus,” of the Latin version, is preserved by the epithet ready. A prompt smile is characteristic of early youth, though Vincent Bourne is the first poet who, by marked description, has recognised the propensity. The word gay does not, in itself, sufficiently express that facility of smile.

[142] l. 10. “Tandem, O nunc tandem;” the repetition greatly increases the pathos, and is closely rendered in this Elegy.

[143]

Excellent as are the three first lines of this original stanza, yet the Latin quatrain strengthens the awful horrors of inhumation, and the re-translator flatters herself they have not here lost any of their terrific powers. Swain, in the last line of the stanza from William and Margaret, seems a botching appellation, used merely from the rhyme’s necessity. Whatever might have been the original meaning of the word swain, custom has attached to it a certain character of amorous effeminacy and tenderness, ill-suited to the perfidious conduct of the accused, and the sepulchral solemnity of the accuser.

[144] l. 12.—These parenthetic and passionate exclamations are all in the Latin poem, and add great effect to the solemn and upbraiding challenge.

[145]

How much more spirit in that line than in

The word, ecce! is a striking challenge to observe her changed face, and to contrast it with its former beauty.

[146] l. 11.—This line in the old Ballad is of most unpoetic construction, viz.

[147] This Sonnet is in the style of our elder poets, with whom the hyperbole was a favourite poetic figure.

[148] l. 11.Downy blow-ball—Ben Jonson’s name for the seed-vessels of the Dandelion.

[149] l. 7. Life is love—Mr Bree’s scenes are his own creation, since he seldom draws from Nature, and never from copies.

[150] This young creature plays every air she catches with full and elegant bass accompaniment, intuitively and spontaneously discovered;—also beautiful compositions intirely her own, and this without knowing the names of the notes or the keys.—Sept. 1803. She has within this month only, begun to learn music scientifically.

[151] l. 13. Jura’s side—A vast mountain in Switzerland.

[152] This Poem was written on request, in the year 1800, in the MS. volume of verses, collected by that young lady. Upon the page destined for these stanzas, a beautiful little sea-scene, with a light-house, and a small turret on the shore, had been previously drawn by her cousin, Miss J. Cheney of Langley.

[153] l. 2. Ampler tower—The light-house.

[154] l. 9. Tender Hero’s—Alluding to the story of Hero and Leander in Ovid.

[155] l. 8. Ancient Witchery—Since this poem was written, all the native romance of the river at this spot, has been destroyed by a detestable cotton-mill.

[156] l. 1. One of proved fidelity—The head steward at B——.

[157] In those days of continual civil war amongst the separate clans, each party hanged their prisoners. This Ballad was sent to Mr Scott, editor of The Border Minstrelsy, who inserted it in the third volume of that popular work. In his letter to the author, he observed, that the stoutest antiquarian in Scotland could not, after perusing Auld Willie’s Farewell, suspect that the writer had the misfortune to have been born south of the Tweed.

[158] l. 1. Ingle—Hearth.

[159] l. 2. Snell—Bitter.

[160] l. 3. Bouris—Chamber.

[161] l. 3. Heathery, heathy.

[162] l. 4. Glourin, sulky.

[163] l. 7. Lilting, singing.

[164] l. 10. Braw, handsome.

[165] l. 11. Aboon, above.

[166] l. 13. Wimpling, dimpling.

[167] l. 16. Flickering, twinkling.

[168] l. 18. Skelp, dash.

[169] l. 1. Braes, high banks.

[170] l. 5. Soom’d, swam.

[171] l. 5. Drumlie, turbid.

[172] l. 6. Ilka, each.

[173] l. 8. Scaith, injury.

[174] l. 9. Wraith, spectre.

[175] l. 11. Winsome, handsome.

[176] l. 13. Geck, romp.

[177] l. 14. Haughs, meadows.

[178] l. 15. Gowk, cuckow.

[179] l. 1. Pawky, sly.

[180] l. 7. The brine—Bristol Channel. Milton uses the word brine for the sea,

[181] l. 10. Veranda—An Italian colonade roofed.

[182] l. 5. Thy brother—Mr Mathias.

[183] Written after having seen him in five of his principal characters on the Lichfield Theatre, June 1807.

[184] l. 10. Warm marum—The affection of cats for marum and valerian is well known. They will beat down the stems, mat them with their feet, and roll upon them.

[185] l. 13. Asbestos—A vegetable substance, soft and pliant as muslin, and which fire cannot consume.

[186] l. 19. To Verse—Paradise Lost, which, through the long period intervening between its first publication, in the author’s life-time, and Addison’s Essays upon it in the Spectator, met little public notice, while his equally beautiful lesser works, Lycidas, Comus, L’Allegro, and Il Penseroso, were scarcely known at all, till more than seventy years after his death.

[187] l. 4. Thy lays—“Needwood Forest,” one of the sweetest local poems in our language, of which Mr Mundy, in 1776, printed 500 copies for presents to his friends. He has resisted all solicitation to publish it at large; but such a beautiful work cannot die. It will be given to future times; so also will the Fall of Needwood.

[188] l. 8. Dryades—Milton, in Comus, makes Naiades the plural of Naiad:

[189] l. 10. Brave Andre—See Major André’s beautiful letters, prefixed to the Monody on his disastrous fate.