Our
laughter
had now
increased to such a pitch that nothing could restrain it.
increased to such a pitch that nothing could restrain it.
Byron
And since not even our Rogers' praise
To common sense his thoughts could raise--
Why _would_ they let him print his lays?
3.
* * * * *
4.
* * * * *
5.
To me, divine Apollo, grant--O!
Hermilda's[31] first and second canto,
I'm fitting up a new portmanteau;
6.
And thus to furnish decent lining,
My own and others' bays I'm twining,--
So, gentle Thurlow, throw me thine in.
June 2, 1813.
[First published, _Letters and Journals_, 1830, i. 396. ]
FOOTNOTES:
[30] [One evening, in the late spring or early summer of 1813, Byron and
Moore supped on bread and cheese with Rogers. Their host had just
received from Lord Thurlow [Edward Hovell Thurlow, 1781-1829] a copy of
his _Poems on Several Occasions_ (1813), and Byron lighted upon some
lines to Rogers, "On the Poem of Mr. Rogers, entitled 'An Epistle to a
Friend. '" The first stanza ran thus--
"When Rogers o'er this labour bent,
Their purest fire the Muses lent,
T' illustrate this sweet argument. "
"Byron," says Moore, "undertook to read it aloud;--but he found it
impossible to get beyond the first two words.
Our laughter had now
increased to such a pitch that nothing could restrain it. Two or three
times he began; but no sooner had the words 'When Rogers' passed his
lips, than our fit burst forth afresh,--till even Mr. Rogers himself . . .
found it impossible not to join us. A day or two after, Lord Byron sent
me the following:--'My dear Moore, "When Rogers" must not see the
enclosed, which I send for your perusal. '"--_Life_, p. 181; _Letters_,
1898, ii. 211-213, _note_ 1. ]
Thurlow's poems are by no means contemptible. A sonnet, "To a Bird, that
haunted the Water of Lacken, in the Winter," which Charles Lamb
transcribed in one of Coleridge's note-books, should be set over against
the absurd lines, "On the Poems of Mr. Rogers. "
"O melancholy bird, a winter's day
Thou standest by the margin of the pool;
And, taught by God, dost thy whole being school
To Patience, which all evil can allay:
God has appointed thee the fish thy prey;
And giv'n thyself a lesson to the fool
Unthrifty, to submit to moral rule,
And his unthinking course by thee to weigh.
There need not schools nor the professor's chair,
Though these be good, true wisdom to impart;
He, who has not enough for these to spare
Of time, or gold, may yet amend his heart,
And teach his soul by brooks and rivers fair,
Nature is always wise in every part. "
_Select Poems_, 1821, p.