A paper potentate—.
—[MS. erased]
See “Introduction to Cain,” Poetical Works, 1901, V 204. —Editor ↩
With turnkey Southey for my Hudson Lowe.
—[MS.]
Beneath the reverend Cambyses Croly.
—[MS.]
The Reverend George Croly, D.D. (1780–1860), began his literary career as dramatic critic of the Times. “Croly,” says H. C. Robinson (Diary, 1869, I 412), “is a fierce-looking Irishman, very lively in conversation, and certainly has considerable talents as a writer; his eloquence, like his person, is rather energetic than eloquent” (hence the epithet “Cambyses,” i.e. “King Cambyses’ vein” in var. III). “He wrote tragedies, comedies, and novels; and, at last, settled down as a preacher, with the rank of doctor, but of what faculty I do not know” (Diary, footnote, H. C. R., 1847). He wrote, inter alia, Paris in 1815, a poem; Catiline, a Tragedy, 1822; and Salathiel, a novel, 1827. In lines 7, 8, Byron seems to refer to The Angel of the World, an Arabian Poem, published in 1820. —Editor ↩
1 Henry IV, act II sc. 4, line 197. —Editor ↩
Stanza LVIII was first published in 1837. The reference is to Henry Hart Milman (1791–1868). Byron was under the impression that Milman had influenced Murray against continuing the publication of Don Juan. Added to this surmise, was the mistaken belief that it was Milman who had written the article in the Quarterly, which “killed John Keats.” Hence the virulence of the attack.
“Dull Dorus” is obscure, but compare Propertius, Eleg. III vii 44, where Callimachus is addressed as “Dore poeta.” He is the “ox of verse,” because he had been recently appointed to the Professorship of Poetry at Oxford. The “roaring Romans” are “The soldiery” who shout “All, All,” in Croly’s Catiline, act V sc. 2. —Editor ↩
Then there’s my gentle Barry—who they say.
—[MS.]
Jeffrey, in his review of A Sicilian Story, etc., Bryan Waller Procter (Barry Cornwall), 1787–1874 (Edinburgh Review, January, 1820, vol. 33, pp. 144–155), compares “Diego de Montilla,” a poem in ottava rima, with Don Juan, favourably and unfavourably:
“There is no profligacy and no horror … no mocking of virtue and honour, and no strong mixtures of buffoonery and grandeur.” But it may fairly match with Byron and his Italian models “as to the better qualities of elegance, delicacy, and tenderness.”
See, too, Blackwood’s Edinburgh Magazine, March, 1820, vol. VI pp. 153, 647. —Editor ↩
See Preface to the Vision of Judgment, Poetical Works, 1901, IV 484, note 3. —Editor ↩
Croker’s article in the Quarterly (April, 1818 [pub. September], vol. XIX pp. 204–208) did not “kill John Keats.” See letter to George and Georgiana Keats, October, 1818 (Letters, etc., 1895, p. 215). Byron adopts Shelley’s belief that the Reviewer, “miserable man,” “one of the meanest,” had “wantonly defaced one of the noblest specimens of the workmanship of God.” See Preface to Adonais, and stanzas XXXVI, XXXVII. —Editor ↩
And weakly mind, to let that all celestial Particle.
—[MS. erased]
or,
’Tis strange the mind should let such phrases quell its
—[MS. erased]
Chief Impulse with a few, frail, paper pellets.
“Divinae particulam aurae.”
[Hor., Sat. II 2. 79]
For “the crowd of usurpers” who started up in the reign of Gallienus, and were dignified with the honoured appellation of “the thirty tyrants,” see Gibbon’s Decline and Fall, 1825, I 164. —Editor ↩
King Lear, act IV sc. 6, line 15. —Editor ↩
“Illita Nesseo misi tibi texta veneno.”
Ovid., Heroid. Epist. IX 163
—Editor ↩
A “bower,” in Moore’s phrase, signifies a solitude à deux; e.g. “Here’s the Bower she lov’d so much.”
“Come to me, love, the twilight star
Moore
Shall guide thee to my bower.”
—Editor ↩
Compare “The Waltz,” lines 220–229, et passim, Poetical Works, 1898, I 501. —Editor ↩
Scotch for goblin. ↩
Handsome but blasé—
—[MS.]
The sentiment is reiterated in The Night Thoughts, and is the theme of “Resignation,” which was written and published when Young was more than eighty years old. —Editor ↩
And fresher, since without a breath of air.
—[MS.]
Where are the thousand lovely innocents?
—[MS.]
“I have … written … to express my willingness to accept the, or almost any mortgage, anything to get out of the tremulous Funds of these oscillating times. There will be a war somewhere, no doubt—and whatever it may be, the Funds will be affected more or less; so pray get us out of them with all proper expedition. It has been the burden of my song to you three years and better, and about as useful as better counsels.”
—Letter of Byron to Kinnaird, January 18, 1823, Letters, 1901, VI 162, 163
—Editor ↩
For William Pole Tylney Long Wellesley (1788–1857), see “The Waltz,” line 21, Poetical Works, 1898, I 484, note 1. He was only on the way to being “diddled” in 1822, but the prophecy (suggested, no doubt, by the announcement of the sale of furniture, etc., at Wanstead House, in the Morning Chronicle, July 8, 1822) was ultimately fulfilled. Samuel Whitbread, born 1758, committed suicide July 6, 1815. Sir Samuel Romilly, born 1758, committed suicide November 2, 1818. —Editor ↩
According to Charles Greville, George the Third made two wills—the first
