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Ach! gdyby radość ta zwolnieć nie miała, Wkrótceby, szczęścia zniszczone nadmiarem, Serca ich własnym spłonęły pożarem. -- Mogliż, sen marząc tak ognisty, luby, Pomnieć na zbrodnię lub lękać się zguby; Któżby w tej burzy, tej uczuć nawale, Hamował wrzące namiętności fale? Któż wówczas myśli, jak czas ten przelotny? -- Przecież już uszedł, i uszedł niezwrotny. Tak się to człowiek ze snu szczęścia cuci, Wprzód nim się dowie, że już mu nie wróci. IV Smętnem się, rzewnem żegnają obliczem Z minionej winy miejscem tajemniczem. Mają nadzieję -- przyrzekli, że wrócą, Przecież jak wiecznym rozdziałem się smucą. Ileż to westchnień i uścisków dł Jak jedne usta przyrosły do drugich Wówczas, gdy pełnem światłem blask księżyca Z grożących niebios na jej spada lica, A każda gwiazda, świadek jej niewiary, Zda się ją winić i przyzywać kary. Ten nawał westchnień, ten uścisk tak czuły, Silnie do miejsca zbrodni ich przykuły. Lecz już czas nagli i rozstać się muszą: Z drżącą więc, ciężką rozchodzą się duszą, Skryty dreszcz trwogi krew ich lodem ścina, I pierwszy zbrodnię już karać zaczyna. V Hugo na łoże samotne się schronił, Skąd tęskną myślą za kochanką gonił; I ona także swe niewierne PARISINA. INTRODUCTION TO PARISINA. Parisina, which had been begun before the Siege of Corinth, was transcribed by Lady Byron, and sent to the publisher at the beginning of December, 1815. Murray confessed that he had been alarmed by some hints which Byron had dropped as to the plot of the narrative, but was reassured when he traced ˝the delicate hand that transcribed it.˝ He could not say enough of this ˝Pearl˝ of great price. ˝It is very interesting, pathetic, beautiful--do you know I would almost say moral˝ (Memoir of John Murray, 1891, i. 353). Ward, to whom the MS. of Parisina was shown, and Isaac DIsraeli, who heard it read aloud by Murray, were enthusiastic as to its merits; and Gifford, who had mingled censure with praise in his critical appreciation of the Siege, declared that the author ˝had never surpassed Parisina.˝ The last and shortest of the six narrative poems composed and published in the four years (the first years of manhood and of fame, the only years of manhood passed at home in England) which elapsed between the appearance of the first two cantos of Childe Harold and the third, Parisina has, perhaps, never yet received its due. At the time of its appearance it shared the odium which was provoked by the publication of Fare Thee Well and A Sketch, and before there was time to reconsider the new volume on its own merits, the new canto of Childe Harold, followed almost immediately by the Prisoner of Chillon and its brilliant and noticeable companion poems, usurped the attention of friend and foe. Contemporary critics (with the exception of the Monthly and Critical Reviews) fell foul of the subject-matter of the poem--the guilty passion of a bastard son for his fathers wife. ˝It was too disgusting to be rendered pleasing by any display of genius˝ (European Magazine); ˝The story of Parisina includes adultery not to be named˝ (Literary Panorama); while the Eclectic, on grounds of taste rather than of morals, gave judgment that ˝the subject of the tale was purely unpleasing˝--˝the impression left simply painful.˝ Byron, no doubt, for better or worse, was in advance of his age, in the pursuit of art for arts sake, and in his indifference, not to morality--the dénouement of the story is severely moral--but to the moral edification of his readers. The tale was chosen because it is a tale of love and guilt and woe, and the poet, unconcerned with any other issue, sets the tale to an enchanting melody. It does not occur to him to condone or to reprobate the loves of Hugo and Parisina, and in detailing the issue leaves the actors to their fate. It was this aloofness from ethical considerations which perturbed and irritated the ˝canters,˝ as Byron called them--the children and champions of the anti-revolution. The modern reader, without being attracted or repelled by the motif of the story, will take pleasure in the sustained energy and sure beauty of the poetic strain. Byron may have gone to the ˝nakedness of history˝ for his facts, but he clothed them in singing robes of a delicate and shining texture. TO SCROPE BERDMORE DAVIES, ESQ. THE FOLLOWING POEM Is Inscribed, BY ONE WHO HAS LONG ADMIRED HIS TALENTS AND VALUED HIS FRIENDSHIP. January 23, 1816. ADVERTISEMENT. The following poem is grounded on a circumstance mentioned in Gibbons ˝Antiquities of the House of Brunswick.˝ I am aware, that in modern times, the delicacy or fastidiousness of the reader may deem such subjects unfit for the purposes of poetry. The Greek dramatists, and some of the best of our old English writers, were of a different opinion: as Alfieri and Schiller have also been, more recent