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imò verd ego apud illum surdus sum. Gaudeo tamen vel aspectû solo, et sæpe illum amplexus ac suspirans dico; O magne vir, &c.— Epist. Var. lib. 20.

P. 99, 1. 14.
As her fair self reflected seems to rise !

After line 10, in a former edition.
But hence away! yon rocky cave beware!
A sullen captive broods in silence there!
There, tho' the dog-star flame, condemned to dwell
In the dark centre of its inmost cell,
Wild Winter ministers his dread control
To cool and crystallise the nectared bowl.
His faded form an awful grace retains;
Stern tho’ subdued, majestic tho' in chains !

P. 99, 1. 17.

These eyelids open to the rising ray, Your bed-chamber, and also your library, says Vitruvius, should have an eastern aspect; usus enim matutinum postulat lumen. Not so the picture-gallery; which requires a north light, uti colores in ope, propter constantiam luminis, immutata permaneant qualitate. This disposition accords with his plan of a Grecian house.

P. 100, 1. 3.

Like those blest Youths,
See the Legend of the Seven Sleepers.— GIBBON, C. 33.

P. 100, 1. 12.

with knowledge health ; Milton "was up and stirring, ere the sound of any bell awaked men to labour, or to devotion;" and it is related of two Students in a suburb of Paris, who were opposite neighbours, and were called the morningstar and the evening-star— the former appearing just as the latter withdrew — that the morning-star continued to shine on, when the evening-star was gone out for ever.

P. 100, 1. 20. Catch the blest accents of the wise and great. Mr. Pope delights in enumerating his illustrious guests. Nor is this an exclusive privilege of the Poet. The Medici Palace at Florence exhibits a long and imposing catalogue. “Semper hi parietes columnæque eruditis vocibus renosuerunt.”

P. 101, 1. 20.
Sheds, like an evening-star, its ray serene,
At a Roman supper statues were sometimes employed to hold the
lamps.

-aurea sunt juvenum simulacra per ædes,
Lampadas igniseras manibus retinentia dextris.

LUCR. ii. 24.

A fashion as old as Homer!-Odyss. vii. 100.

On the proper degree and distribution of light we may consult a great master of effect. Il lume grande, ed alto, e non troppe potente, sarà quello, che renderà le particole de' corpi molto grate. — Tratt. della Pittura di LIONARDO DA VINCI, c. xli.

Hence every artist requires a broad and high light. Michael Angelo used to work with a candle fixed in his hat.-Condivi. Vita de Michelagnolo.— Hence also, in a banquet-scene, the most picturesque of all poets has thrown his light from the ceiling.– Æn. i. 726. And hence the “starry lamp" of Milton, that

from the arched roof Pendent by subtle magic,

yielded light As from a sky.

P. 101, l. 30.

Beyond the triumphs of a Loriot's art. At the petits soupés of Choisy were first introduced those admirable pieces of mechanism, afterwards carried to perfection by Loroit, the Confidente and the Servente; a table and a side-board, which descended, and rose again covered with viands and wines. And thus the most luxurious court in Europe, after all its boasted refinements, was glad to return at last, by this singular contrivance, to the quiet and privacy of humble life.- Vie Privée de Louis XV. ii. 43.

Between line 36 and line 37 were these lines, since omitted :

Hail, sweet Society! in crowds unknown,
Though the vain world would claim thee for its own.
Still where thy small and cheerful converse flows,
Be mine to enter, ere the circle close.
When in retreat Fox lays his thunder by,
And Wit and Taste their mingled charms supply;
When Siddons, born to melt and freeze the heart,
Performs at home her more endearing part;
When he, who best interprets to mankind
The winged messengers from mind to mind,
Leans on his spade, and, playful as profound,
His genius spreads its evening-sunshine round,
Be mine to listen; pleased yet not elate,
Ever too modest or too proud to rate

Myself by my.companions.
They were written in 1796.

P. 102, 1. 3. So thro' the vales of Loire the bee-hives glide, An allusion to the floating bee-house, which is seen in some parts of France and Piedmont.

P. 102, 1. 10.
Caught thro' St. James's groves at blush of day;

After line 42, in the MS.
Groves that Belinda's star illumines still,

And Ancient Courts and faded splendours fill.
See the Rape of the Lock. Canto V.

P. 103, 1. 8. And, with the swallow, wings the year away! It was the boast of Lucullus that he changed his climate with the birds of passage.

How often must he have felt the truth here inculcated, that the master of many houses had no home!

JACQUELINE.

'Twas Autumn; thro' Provence had ceased
The vintage, and the vintage-feast.
The sun had set behind the hill,
The moon was up, and all was still,
And from the Convent's neighbouring tower
The clock had tolled the midnight-hour,
When Jacqueline came forth alone,
Her kerchief o'er her tresses thrown;
A guilty thing and full of fears,
Yet ah, how lovely in her tears !
She starts, and what has caught her eye?
What — but her shadow gliding by ?
She stops, she pants; with lips apart
She listens — to her beating heart!
Then, thro' the scanty orchard stealing,
The clustering boughs her track concealing,
She flies, nor casts a thought behind,
But gives her terrors to the wind;
Flies from her home, the humble sphere
Of all her joys and sorrows here,
Her father's house of mountain-stone,
And by a mountain-vine o'ergrown.
At such an hour, in such a night,
So calm, so clear, so heavenly bright,

Who would have seen, and not confessed
It looked as all within were blessed ?
What will not woman, when she loves ?
Yet lost, alas! who can restore her? -
She lifts the latch, the wicket moves ;
And now the world was all before her.

Up rose St. Pierre, when morning shone; - And Jacqueline, his child, was gone! Oh what the maddening thought that came? Dishonour coupled with his name! By Condé at Rocroy he stood; By Turenne, when the Rhine ran blood. Two banners of Castile he gave Aloft in Notre Dame to wave; Nor did thy cross, St. Louis, rest Upon a purer, nobler breast. He slung his old sword by his side, And snatched his staff and rushed to save: Then sunk — and on his threshold cried, “Olay me in my grave!

Constance ! Claudine! where were ye then ? But stand not there. Away! away! Thou, Frederic, by thy father stay. Though old, and now forgot of men, Both must not leave him in a day.” Then, and he shook his hoary head, Unhappy in thy youth!” he said. “Call as thou wilt, thou call'st in vain; No voice sends back thy name again. To mourn is all thou hast to do; Thy play-mate lost, and teacher too.”

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