Epistle to Augusta

Epistle to Augusta

Original Text
Byron, Works, 17 vols. (London: John Murray, 1832-33). PR 4351 M6 1832 ROBA. George Gordon, lord Byron, Letters and Journals of Lord Byron, ed. Thomas Moore (London: J. Murray, 1830). E-10 2736 Fisher Rare Book Library (Toronto).
2    Dearer and purer were, it should be thine.
3    Mountains and seas divide us, but I claim
4    No tears, but tenderness to answer mine:
5    Go where I will, to me thou art the same
6    A lov'd regret which I would not resign.
7    There yet are two things in my destiny--
8A world to roam through, and a home with thee.
9    The first were nothing--had I still the last,
10    It were the haven of my happiness;
11    But other claims and other ties thou hast,
12    And mine is not the wish to make them less.
13    A strange doom is thy father's son's, and past
14    Recalling, as it lies beyond redress;
16He had no rest at sea, nor I on shore.
17    If my inheritance of storms hath been
18    In other elements, and on the rocks
19    Of perils, overlook'd or unforeseen,
20    I have sustain'd my share of worldly shocks,
21    The fault was mine; nor do I seek to screen
22    My errors with defensive paradox;
23    I have been cunning in mine overthrow,
24The careful pilot of my proper woe.
25    Mine were my faults, and mine be their reward.
26    My whole life was a contest, since the day
27    That gave me being, gave me that which marr'd
28    The gift--a fate, or will, that walk'd astray;
29    And I at times have found the struggle hard,
30    And thought of shaking off my bonds of clay:
31    But now I fain would for a time survive,
32If but to see what next can well arrive.
33    Kingdoms and empires in my little day
34    I have outliv'd, and yet I am not old;
35    And when I look on this, the petty spray
36    Of my own years of trouble, which have roll'd
37    Like a wild bay of breakers, melts away:
38    Something--I know not what--does still uphold
39    A spirit of slight patience; not in vain,
40Even for its own sake, do we purchase pain.
41    Perhaps the workings of defiance stir
42    Within me--or perhaps a cold despair,
43    Brought on when ills habitually recur,
44    Perhaps a kinder clime, or purer air
45    (For even to this may change of soul refer,
46    And with light armour we may learn to bear),
47    Have taught me a strange quiet, which was not
48The chief companion of a calmer lot.
49    I feel almost at times as I have felt
50    In happy childhood; trees, and flowers, and brooks,
51    Which do remember me of where I dwelt
52    Ere my young mind was sacrific'd to books,
53    Come as of yore upon me, and can melt
54    My heart with recognition of their looks;
55    And even at moments I could think I see
56Some living thing to love--but none like thee.
57    Here are the Alpine landscapes which create
58    A fund for contemplation; to admire
59    Is a brief feeling of a trivial date;
60    But something worthier do such scenes inspire:
61    Here to be lonely is not desolate,
62    For much I view which I could most desire,
64Lovelier, not dearer, than our own of old.
65    Oh that thou wert but with me!--but I grow
66    The fool of my own wishes, and forget
67    The solitude which I have vaunted so
68    Has lost its praise in this but one regret;
69    There may be others which I less may show;
70    I am not of the plaintive mood, and yet
71    I feel an ebb in my philosophy,
72And the tide rising in my alter'd eye.
73    I did remind thee of our own dear Lake,
74    By the old Hall which may be mine no more.
75    Leman's is fair; but think not I forsake
76    The sweet remembrance of a dearer shore:
77    Sad havoc Time must with my memory make
78    Ere that or thou can fade these eyes before;
79    Though, like all things which I have lov'd, they are
80Resign'd for ever, or divided far.
82    Of Nature that with which she will comply--
83    It is but in her summer's sun to bask,
84    To mingle with the quiet of her sky,
85    To see her gentle face without a mask,
86    And never gaze on it with apathy.
87    She was my early friend, and now shall be
88My sister--till I look again on thee.
89    I can reduce all feelings but this one;
90    And that I would not; for at length I see
91    Such scenes as those wherein my life begun,
92    The earliest--even the only paths for me--
93    Had I but sooner learnt the crowd to shun,
94    I had been better than I now can be;
95    The passions which have torn me would have slept;
96I had not suffer'd, and thou hadst not wept.
97    With false Ambition what had I to do?
98    Little with Love, and least of all with Fame;
99    And yet they came unsought, and with me grew,
100    And made me all which they can make--a name,
101    Yet this was not the end I did pursue;
102    Surely I once beheld a nobler aim.
103    But all is over--I am one the more
104To baffled millions which have gone before.
105    And for the future, this world's future may
106    From me demand but little of my care;
107    I have outliv'd myself by many a day,
108    Having surviv'd so many things that were;
109    My years have been no slumber, but the prey
110    Of ceaseless vigils; for I had the share
111    Of life which might have fill'd a century,
112    Before its fourth in time had pass'd me by.
113    And for the remnant which may be to come
114    I am content; and for the past I feel
115    Not thankless, for within the crowded sum
116    Of struggles, happiness at times would steal,
117    And for the present, I would not benumb
118    My feelings further. Nor shall I conceal
119    That with all this I still can look around,
120And worship Nature with a thought profound.
121    For thee, my own sweet sister, in thy heart
122    I know myself secure, as thou in mine;
123    We were and are--I am, even as thou art--
124    Beings who ne'er each other can resign;
125    It is the same, together or apart,
126    From life's commencement to its slow decline
127    We are entwin'd--let death come slow or fast,

Notes

1] Written at Diodati, near Geneva, July 1816, but not published until 1830 in Thomas Moore's Letters and Journals of Lord Byron. Addressed to Augusta Leigh, Byron's half-sister, whose relations with Byron have been a matter of scandal and surmise from his own time to the present. Back to Line
15] Our grandsire's fate. Admiral John Byron was nicknamed "Foul-weather Jack" for his many encounters with storms. Back to Line
63] Our own dear lake: the lake at Newstead Abbey, Byron's ancestral home. Back to Line
81] The world is all before me. See Paradise Lost, XII, 646. Back to Line
128] Influenced by Byron's wife, Mrs. Leigh drew away from Byron in the years that followed. They never met again. Back to Line
Publication Start Year
1830
RPO poem Editors
M. T. Wilson
RPO Edition
3RP 2.490.
Rhyme