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But, midst the throng in merry masquerade,
Lurk there no hearts that throb with secret pain,
Even through the closest searment half betray'd ?
To such the gentle murmurs of the main
Seem to re-echo all they mourn in vain ;
To such the gladness of the gamesome crowd
Is source of wayword thought and stern disdain :

How do they loathe the laughter idly loud,
And long to change the robe of revel for the shroud!

Save where some solitary column mourns
Above its prostrate brethren of the cave ;-
Save where Tritonia's airy shrine adorns
Colonna's cliff,' and gleams along the wave;
Save o'er some warrior's half-forgotten grave,
Where the gray stones and unmolested grass
Ages, but not oblivion, feebly brave,

While strangers only not regardless pass,
Lingering like me, perchance, to gaze, and sigh“Alas!"

This must he feel, the true-born son of Greece,
If Greece one true-born patriot still can boast :
Not such as prate of war, but skulk in peace,
The bondsman's peace, who sighs for all he lost,
Yet with smooth smile his tyrant can accost,
And wield the slavish sickle, not the sword:
Ah! Greece! they love thee least who owe thee most;

Their birth, their blood, and that sublime record
Of hero sires, who shame thy now degenerate horde !

Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild ;
Sweet are thy groves, and verdant are thy fields,
Thine olive ripe as when Minerva smiled,
And still his honey'd wealth Hymettus yields ;
There the blithe bee his fragrant fortress builds,
The freeborn wanderer of thy mountain-air;
Apollo still thy long, long summer gilds,

Still in his beam Mendeli’s marbles glare ;
Art, Glory, Freedom fail, but Nature still is fair.


LXXXVIII. When riseth Lacedæmon's hardihood,

Where'er we tread 'tis haunted, holy ground; When Thebes Epaminondas rears again,

No earth of thine is lost in vulgar mould, When Athens' children are with hearts endued, But one vast realm of wonder spreads around, When Grecian mothers shall give birth to men, And all the Muse's tales seem truly told, Then mayst thou be restored; but not till then. Till the sense aches with gazing to behold A thousand years scarce serve to form a state ; The scenes our earliest dreams have dwelt upon : An hour may lay it in the dust ; and when

Each hill and dale, each deepening glen and wold Can man its shatter'd splendor renovate,

Defies the power which crush'd thy temples gone : Recall its virtues back, and vanquish Time and Fate? Age shakes Athena's tower, but spares gray Marathon.

And yet how lovely in thine age of wo,
Land of lost gods and godlike men! art thou!
Thy vales of evergreen, thy hills of snow,'
Proclaim thee Nature's varied favorite now;
Thy fanes, thy temples to thy surface bow,
Commingling slowly with heroic earth,
Broke by the share of every rustic plough:

So perish monuments of mortal birth,
So perish all in turn, save well-recorded Worth ;


the soil, but not the slave, the same;
Unchanged in all except its foreign lord
Preserves alike its bounds and boundless fame
The Battle-field, where Persia's victiin horde
First bow'd beneath the brunt of Hellas' sword,
As on the morn to distant Glory dear,
When Marathon became a magic word ;5

Which to the hearer's eyo appear
The camp, the host, the fight, the conqueror's career,

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i On many of the mountains, particularly Liakura, the hand, they remained stationary, and thus saved our party, snow never is entirely inelted, notwithstanding the intense which was too small to have opposed any effectual resistheat of the summer; but I never saw it lie on the plains, ance. Colonna is no less a resort of painters than of pirates ; even in winter.

there 2 Of Mount Pentelicus, from whence the marble was dug

"The hireling artist plants his paltry desk, thai constructed the public edifices of Athens. The modern

And makes degraded nature picturesque." name is Mount Mendeli. An immense cave, formed by the

(See Hodgson's Lady Jane Grey, &c.) quarries, still remains, and will till the end of time.

But there Nature, with the aid of Art, has done that for her. | : In all Attica, if we except Athens itself and Marathon, self. I was fortunate enough to engage a very superior there is no scene more interesting than Cape Colonna. To German artist; and hope to renew my acquaintance with the antiquary and artist, sixteen columns are an inexhausti this and many other Levantine scenes, by the arrival of his ble source of observation and design ; to the philosopher, performances. the supposed scene of some of Plato's conversations will

+ [The following passage in Harris's Philosophical Innot be unwelcome, and the traveller will be struck with

quiries, contains the pith of this stanza :-" Notwithstanding the beauty of the prospect over "Isles that crown the

the various fortunes of Athens as a city, Altica is still Egean deep;” but, for an Englishnan, Colonna has yet an famous for olives, and Mount Ilyinettus for loney. Human ! additional interest, as the actual spot of Falconer's Ship institutions perish, bnt Nature is permanent." I recollect wreck, Pallas and Plato are forgotten, in the recollection of Falconer and Campbell :-

having once pointed out this coincidence to Lord Byron,

but he assured me that he had never even seen this work "llere in the dead of night by Lonna's steep,

of Harris's.--MOORE.) The seaman's cry was heard along the deep."

5* Siste Viator-heroa calcas !" was the epitaph on the 1 This temple of Minerva may be seen at sea from a great famous Count Merci ;- What then must be our feelings when distance. 'In two journeys which I made, and one voyage to standing on the tumulus of the two hundred (Greeks) who Cape Colonna, the view from either side, by land, was less fell on Marathon? The principal barrow has recently been striking than the approach from the isles. In our second opened by Fauvel: few or no relics, as vases, &c. were land excursion, we hall a narrow escape from a party of found by the excavator. The plain of Marathon was offerMainotes, concealed in the caverns beneath. We were told ed to me for sale at the sum of sixteen thousand piastres, afterwards, by one of their prisoners, subsequently ransome, about nine hundred pounds! Alas!" Expendc-quot libras that they were deterred from attacking us by the appearance in duce summo-invenies!"-was the dust of Miltiades worth of my two Albanians : conjecturing very sagaciously, but no more? It could scarcely have fetched less if sold by falsely, that we had a complete guard of these Arnaouts at weight.

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Ill may such contest now the spirit move
Which heeds nor keen reproach nor partial praise ;

Since cold each kinder heart that miglit approve, And none are left to please when none are left to love.

XCV. Thou too art gone, thou loved and lovely one! Whom youth and youth's affections bound to me; Who did for me what none beside have done, Nor shrank from one albeit unworthy thee. What is my being? thou hast ceased to be! Nor stay'd to welcome here thy wanderer home, Who mourns o'er hours which we no more shall


XC. The flying Mede, his shaftless broken bow; The fiery Greek, his red pursuing spear; Mountains above, Earth's, Oceau's plain below; Death in the front, Destruction in the rear ! Soch was the scene-what now remaineth here? What sacred trophy marks the hallow'd ground, Recording Freedom's smile and Asia's tear?

The rified urn, the violated mound, (around. The dust thy courser's hoof, rude stranger! spurns

Yet to the remnants of thy splendor past
Shall pilgrimes, peusive, but unwearied, throng;
Long shall the voyager, with th' Ionian blast,
Had the bright clime of battle and of song;
Long shall thine annals and immortal tongue
Fll with thy fame the youth of many a shore;
Boast of the aged! lesson of the young!

Which sages venerate and bards adore,
As Pallas and the Muse unveil their awsul lore.

The parted bosom clings to fronted home,
Ii aught that's kindred cheer the welcome hearth;
He that is lonely, hither let him roam,
And gaze complacent on congenial earth.
Greece is no lightsome land of social mirth;
But he whom Sadness sootheth may abide,
And scaree regret the region of his birth,

When randering slow by Delphi's sacred side, Or guing o'er the plains where Greek and Persian


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Let such approach this consecrated land,
And pass in peace along the magic waste :
But spare its reljes-let no busy hand
Deface the scenes, already how defaced !
Sot for such purpose were these altars placed:
Resere the reinuants nations once revered:

Su may our country's name be undisgraced, ; So marst thou prosper where thy youth was rear'd, B; every bobest joy of love and life endear'd!

For thee, who thus in too protracted song
Hast sooth'd thine idlesse with inglorious lays,
Soca shall thy voice be lost amid the throng
Of onder minstrels in these later days:
To such resign the strife for fading bays-

XCVIII. What is the worst of woes that wait on age ? What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow? To view each loved one blotted from life's page, And be alone on earth, as I am now.” Before the Chastener humbly let be bow, O'er hearts divided and o'er hopes destroy'd : Roll on, vain days! full reckless may ye flow,

Since Time hath reft whate'er my soul enjoy'd, And with the ills of Eld mine earlier years alloy'd.

1[The original MS. closes with this stanza. The rest was urt while the canto was passing through the press.)

: Tais stanza was written October 11, 1811 ; upon which y the poet, in a letter to a frend, says— I have been 2740 suced with a death, and have lost one very dear to De 13 per times : but I have almost forgot the taste di Trie, ani supped full of horrors,'til I have become 128, bor hare I a tear left for an event which, five Ten azo, kuld have bowed down my head to the earth. Ins as though I were to experience in my youth the aest misery of age. My friends fall around me, and I Ball be left a lonely tree before I am withered. Other

men can always take refuge in their families: I have no resource but my own reflections, and they present to prospect here or hereafter, except the seltish satisfaction of surviving my friends. I am indeed very wretched, and you will excuse my saying so, as you know I am not api to cant of sensibility." in reference to this stanza, “ Surely," said Professor Clarke to the author of the Pursuits of Literature, “ Lord Byron cannot have experience such keen anguish as these exquisite allusions to what older men may have felt seem to denote."_“I fear he has," answered Matthias ;-" he could not otherwise have wri. ten such a poem.")

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Yet, though a dreary strain, to this I cling,
So that it wean me from the weary dream
Of selfish grief or gladness—so it fing

Forgetfulness around me-it shall seem
To me, though to none else, a not ungrateful theme.

" Afin que cette application vous forçât de penser à autre chose ; il n'y a en vérité de remède que celui-là et le temps." -Lettre du Roi de Prusse à D'Alembert, Sept. 7, 1776.


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Is thy face like thy mother's, my fair child !
Ada sole daughter of my house and heart ?
When last I saw thy young blue eyes they smiled,
And then we parted, - - not as now we part,
But with a hope.-

Awaking with a start,
The waters heave around me; and on high
The winds lift up their voices: I depart,

Whither I know not ;? but the hour's gone by, When Albion's lessening shores could grieve or glad mine eye.”

Once more upon the waters! yet once more !
And the waves bound beneath me as a steed
That knows his rider. Welcome to their roar!
Swist be their guidance, whereso'er it lead!
Though the straju'd mast should quiver as a reed,
And the rent canvass fluttering strew the gale,
Still must I on; for I am as a weed,

Flung from the rock, on Ocean's foam, to sail Where'er the surge may sweep, the tempest's breath prevail.

In my youth's summer I did sing of One,
The wandering outlaw of his own dark mind;
Again I seize the theme, then but begun,
And bear it with me, as the rushing wind
Bears the cloud onwards : in that Talo I find
The furrows of long thought, and dried-up tears,
Which, ebbing, leave a sterile track behind,

O'er which all heavily the journeying years
Plod the last sands of life,—where not a flower appears.

Since my young days of passion-joy, or pain,
Perchance my heart and harp have lost a string,
And both may jar: it may be, that in vain
I would essay as I have sung to sing.

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1(In a hitherto unpublished letter, dated Verona, Novem 8 (The first and second cantos of " Childe Harold's Pilber ti, 1816, Lord Byron says-". By the way, Ada's name grimage' produced, on their appearance in 1812, an effect (which I found in our pedigree, under king John's reign) is upon the public, at least equal to any work which has apthe same with that of the sister of Charlemagne, as Ipeared within this or the last century, and placed at once redde, the other day, in a book treating of the Rhine.") upon Lord Byron's head the garland for which other men of ? (Lord Byron quitted England, for the second and last

genius have toiled long, and which they have gained late. time, on the 25th of April, 1816, attended by William Fletcher

He was placed pre-eminent among the literary men of his and Robert Rushton, the “yeoman" and "page" of Canto I.;

country by general acclamation. It was amidst such feelings bus physician, Dr. Polidori ; and a Swiss valet.)

of admiration that he entered the public stage. Everything

in his manner, person, and conversation, tended to maintain *[— "could grieve or glad my gazing eye."-MS.]

the charın which his genius had tlung around hin; and those + In the “Two Noble Kinsmen" of Beaumont and admitted to his conversation,far from finding that the inspired Fieicher, we find the following passage :-

poet sunk into ordinary mortality, felt themselves attached " Oh, never

to him, not only by many noble qualities, but by the interest Shall we two exercise, like twins of Honor,

of a mysterious, undefined, and almost painful curiosity. A Our arms again, and feel our ficry horses

countenance exquisitely modelled to the expression of feelLike proud seas under us."

ing and passion, and exhibiting the remarkable contrast of

very dark hair and eyebrows with light and expressive eyes, Out of this somewhat forced simile, by a judicious transpo- presented to the physiognomist the most interesting subject sition of the comparison, and by the substitution of the

for the exercise of his art. The predominating expression was more definite word "waves" for “seas, Lord Byron's that of deep and liabitual thought, which gave way to the clear and noble thought has been produced.--MOORE.]

most rapid play of features when he engaged in interesting 6[" And the rent canvass tattering."--MS.]

discussion; so that a brother poet compared them to the



The desert, forest, cavern, breaker's foam, His had been quaft'd too quickly, and he found Were unto him companionship; they spako The dregs were wormwood; but he fill'd again, A mutual language, clearer than the tomo And from a purer fount, on holier ground,

Of his land's tongue, which he would oft forsake Aud deem d its spring perpetual ; but in vain! For Nature's pages glass'd by sunbeams on the lake. Still found him clung invisibly a chain Which gall'd forever, fettering though unseen,

XIV. And heary though it clank'd not; woru with pain, Like the Chaldean, he could watch the stars,

Which pined although it spoke not, and grew keen, Till he had peopled them with beings bright
Entering with every step he took through many a As their own beams; and earth, and earth-born jars,

And human frailties, were forgotten quite:

Could ho have kept his spirit to that flight
Secare in guarded coldness, he had mix'd

He had been happy ; but this clay will sink Again in fancied safety with his kind,

Its spark immortal, envying it the light And deem'd his spirit now so firinly fix'd

To which it mounts, as if to break the link And sheath'd with an invulnerable mind,

That keeps us from yon heaven which woos us to its That, if no joy, no sorrow lurk'd behind;

brink. And he, as one, might midst the many stand l'obeeded, searching through the crowd to find

XV. Fit speculation ; such as in strange land

But in Man's dwellings he became a thing He found in wonder-works of God and Nature's hand. Restless and worn, and stern and wearisome,

Droop'd as a wild-born falcon with clipp'd wing, XI.

To whom the boundless air alone were home : But who can view the ripen'd rose, nor seek

Then came his fit again, which to o'ercome,
To wear it? who can curiously behold

As eagerly the barr’d-up bird will beat
The smoothness and the sheen of beauty's cheek, His breast and beak against his wiry dome
Sor feel the heart can never all grow old ?

Till the blood tinge his plumage, so the heat
Wbo can conteinplate Fame through clouds unfold Of his impeded soul would through his bosom eat.
The star which rises o'er her steep, nor climb ?
Harold, once inore within the vortex, rollid

XVI. On with the giddy circle, chasing Time,

Self-exiled Harold' wanders forth again,
Yet with a nobler aim than in his youth's fond prime. With naught of hope left, but with less of gloom;

The very knowledge that he lived in vain,

That all was over on this side the tomb,
Bot coon he knew himself the most unfit

Had made Despair a smilingness assume, (wreck Oi men to herd with Man; with whom ho held Which, though 'twere wild, -as on the plunder'd Little in common; untaught to submit

When mariners would madly meet their doom
His thoughts to others, thongh his soul was quell’d With draughts intemperate on the sinking dock,-
la youth by his own thoughts; still uncompellid, Did yet inspire a cheer, which he forebore to check.'
He would not yield dominion of his mind
To spirits against whom his own rebellid;

Proud though in desolation ; which could find Stop for thy tread is on an Empire's dust!
A life within itself, to breathe without mankind.

An Earthquako's spoil is sepulchred below!

Is the spot mark'd with no colossal bust ?

Nor column trophied for triumphal show? Where rose the mountains, there to him were Nono; but the moral's truth tells simpler so, friends;

As the ground was before, thus let it be ;Where rollid the ocean, thereon was his home; How that red rain hath made the harvest grow! Where a blue sky, and glowing clime, extends,

And is this all the world has gain'd by thee, He had the passiou and the power to roam;

Thou first and last of fields ! king-making Victory ?

scuipure of a beautiful alabaster vase, only seen to perfec- burst of dark and appalling strength. It was unquestionably tava ben lighter up from within. The flashes of mirth, the unexaggerated picture of a inost tempestuous and somBrety, indization, or satirical dislike, which frequently bre, but magnificent soul!-BRYDGES.) 2010 Ted Lord Byron's countenance, might, during an eve 2 [These stanzas,-in which the author, adopting more disis consersation, be mistaken, by a stranger, for the tinctly the character of Childe Harold than in the original bertual expression, so easily and so happily was it formed poem, assigns the cause why he has resumed his Pilgrim's for then all; but those who had an opportunity of studying staff, when it was hoped he had sat down for life a demzen of tes features for a length of time, and upon various occasions, his native country,-abound with much moral interest and both of rest and emotion, will agree that their proper lan- poetical beauty. The commentary through which the mean. quaZe was that of melancholy. Sometines shades of this ing of this melancholy tale is rendered obvious, is still in vivid

on interrupted even his gayest and most happy mo remembrance; for the errors of those who excel their fellows ats.-Sia WALTER SCOTT.)

in gifts and accomplishments are not soon forgotten. Those i la the third canto of Childe Harold there is much in. scenes, ever most painful to the bosom. were rendered yet aty. "The thoughts and images are sonetimes labored : more so by public discussion; and it is at least possible that tui sill tbey are a very great improvement upon the first amongst those who exclaimed most loudly on this unhappy Io Cantos. Lord Byron here speaks in his own language occasion, were some in whose eyes literary superiority exag: at enrter, not in the tone of others :-he is describing, gerated Lord Byron's offence. The scene may be described Do in Tening: therefore he has noi, and cannot have, the in a few words:--the wise condemned-the good regretted fredon with which fiction is composed. Sometimes he -ihe multitude, idly or maliciously inquisitire, rushed from as a conciseness which is very powerful, but almost abrupt. place to place, gathering gossip, which they mangled and From trusting himself alone, and working out his own exaggerated while they repeated it; and impudence, ever 1 Step-buried thoughts, he now, perhaps, fell into a habit of ready to hitch itself into notoriety, hooked on, as Falstaff en

Waring, even where there was no occasion to labor. In joins Bardolph, blustered, bullied, and talked of “pleading the first sixteen stanzas there is yet a mighty but groaning a cause," and "taking a side."-Sir Walter Scott.)



XXII. And Harold stands upon this place of skulls,

Did ye not hear it?-No; 'twas but the wind, The grave of France, the deadly Waterloo !

Or the car rattling o'er the stony street; How in an hour the power which gavo annuls On with the dance! let joy be unconfined ; Its gists, transferring fame as fleeting too!

No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet In “ pride of place"i here last the eagle flew, To chase the glowing Hours with flying feetThen tore with bloody talon the rent plain,"

But, hark !—that heavy sound breaks in once more, Pierced by the shaft of banded nations through ; As if the clouds its echo would repeat;

Ambition's life and labors all were vain; (chain. And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before ! He wears the shatter'd links of the world's broken Arm! arm! it is—it is—the cannon's opening roar!


XXIII. Fit retribution! Gaul may champ the bit

Within a window'd niche of that high hall And foam in fetters ;—but is Earth more free? Sate Brunswick's fated chieftain; he did hear Did nations combat to make One submit;

That sound the first amidst the festival, Or league to teach all kings true sovereignty? And caught its tone with Death's prophetic ear; What! shall reviving Thraldom again be

And when they smiled because he deem'd it near, The patch’d-up idol of enlighten'd days?

His heart more truly knew that peal too well Shall we, who struck the Lion down, shall we Which stretch'd his father on a bloody bier, 9

Pay the Wolf homage ? proffering lowly gaze And roused the vengeance blood alone could quell: And servile knees to thrones? No; prove before ye He rush'd into the field, and, foremost fighting, fell." praise !


Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro,
If not, o'er one fallen despot boast no more!

And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, In vain fair cheeks were furrow'd with hot tears And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago For Europe's flowers long rooted up before

Blush'd at the praise of their own loveliness; The trampler of her vineyards; in vain years And there were sudden partings, such as press Of death, depopulation, bondage, fears,

The lifo from out young hearts, and choking sighs Have all been borne, and broken by the accord Which ne'er might be repeated; who could guess Of roused-up millions: all that most endears

If ever more should meet those mutual eyes,
Glory, is when the myrtle wreathes a sword Since upon night so sweet such awful mom could rise !
Such as Harmodius“ drew on Athens' tyrant lord.


And there was mounting in hot haste : the steed, There was a sound of revelry by night,

The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, And Belgium's capital had gather'd then

Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright

And swiftly forming in the ranks of war; The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men; And the deep thunder peal on peal afar; A thousand hearts beat happily; and when

And near, the beat of the alarming drum Music arose with its voluptuous swell,

Roused up the soldier ere the morning star; Sost eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again, While throng'd the citizens with terror dumb,

And all went merry as a marriage-bell; 5 (knell! Or whispering, with white lips“ The foe! They But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising

come! they come !"

1 " Pride of place" is a term of falconry, and means the is recent, and the particulars are consequently clearly and highest pitch of thight. See Macbeth, &c.

commonly known. It required some courage to venture on ** An eagle towering in his pride of place,” &c.

a theme beset with so many dangers, and deformed with

the wrecks of so many former adventures. See, however, 2 (In the original draught of this stanza, (which, as well with what easy strength he enters upon it, and with how as the preceding one, was written after a visit to the field much grace he gradually finds his way back to his own of Waterloo,) the lines stood

peculiar vein of sentiment and diction JEFFREY.] “ Here his last flight the haughty eagle flew,

5 On the night previous to the action, it is said that a ball Then tore with bloody beak the fatal plain.”

was given at Brussels.--[The popular error of the Duke of On seeing these lines, Mr. Reinagle sketched a spirited Wellington having been surprised, on the eve of the battle chained eaglc, grasping the earth with hus talons. The cir. of Waterloo, at a ball given by the Duchess of Richmond cumstance bemg mentioned to Lord Byron, he wrote thus

at Brussels, was first corrected on authority, in the History to a friend at Brussels, -" Reinagle is a better poet and a of Napoleon Bonaparte, which forms a portion of the better ornithologist than I am: eagies, and all birds of prey, * Family Library." The Duke had received intelligence of attack with their talons, and not with their beaks; and I Napoleon's decisive operations, and it was intended to put have altered the line thus:-

off the ball; but, on reflection, it seemed highly important

that the people of Brussels should be kept in ignorance as • Then tore with bloody talon the rent plain.'

to the course of events, and the Duke not only desired that This is, I think, a better line, besides its poetical justice."] the ball should proceed, but the general otticers received

3 See the famous song on Harmodius and Aristogiton. | his commands to appear at 11-each taking care to quit the The best English translation is in Bland's Anthology, by apartment as quietly as possible at ten o'clock, and proceed Mr. (now Lord Chief Justice) Denman,

to join his respective division en route.) “With myrtle my sword will I wreathe," &c.

[The father of the Duke of Brunswick, who fell at * (There can be no more remarkable proof of the greatness

Quatre Bras, received his death-wound at Jena.) of Lord Byron's genius, than the spirit and interest he has 7[This stanza is very grand, even from its total upadorncontrived to communicate to his picture of the often-drawn ment. It is only a versitication of the cominon narratives: and difficult scene of the breaking up from Brussels before but here may well be applied a position of Johnson, that the great Balile. It is a trite remark, that poets generally "where truth is sufficient to fill the mind, fiction is worse fail in the representation of great events, where the interest than useless."-BRYDGES.)


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