Classic and Contemporary Poetry
CONDOLATORY ADDRESS TO SARAH, COUNTESS OF JERSEY, by GEORGE GORDON BYRON Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: When the vain triumph of the imperial lord Last Line: Its hate of freedom's loveliness, and thine. Alternate Author Name(s): Byron, Lord; Byron, 6th Baron Subject(s): Paintings & Painters | ||||||||
(ON THE PRINCE REGENT'S RETURNING HER PICTURE TO MRS. MEE) WHEN the vain triumph of the imperial lord, Whom servile Rome obey'd, and yet abhorr'd, Gave to the vulgar gaze each glorious bust That left a likeness of the brave or just; What most admired each scrutinizing eye Of all that deck'd that passing pageantry? What spread from face to face that wondering air? The thought of Brutus -- for his was not there! That absence proved his worth, -- that absence fix'd His memory on the longing mind, unmix'd; And more decreed his glory to endure, Than all a gold Colossus could secure. If thus, fair Jersey, our desiring gaze Search for thy form, in vain and mute amaze, Amidst those pictured charms, whose loveliness, Bright though they be, thine own had render'd less; If he, that vain old man, whom truth admits Heir of his father's crown and of his wits, If his corrupted eye and wither'd heart Could with thy gentle image bear depart; That tasteless shame be his, and ours the grief, To gaze on Beauty's band without its chief: Yet comfort still one selfish thought imparts, We lose the portrait, but preserve our hearts. What can his vaulted gallery now disclose? A garden with all flowers -- except the rose; -- A fount that only wants its living stream; A night, with every star, save Dian's beam. Lost to our eyes the present forms shall be, That turn from tracing them to dream of thee; And more on that recall'd resemblance pause, Than all he shall not force on our applause. Long may thy yet meridian lustre shine, With all that Virtue asks of Homage thine: The symmetry of youth, the grace of mien, The eye that gladdens, and the brow serene; The glossy darkness of that clustering hair, Which shades, yet shows that forehead more than fair! Each glance that wins us, and the life that throws A spell which will not let our looks repose, But turn to gaze again, and find anew Some charm that well rewards another view. These are not lessen'd, these are still as bright, Albeit too dazzling for a dotard's sight; And those must wait till ev'ry charm is gone, To please the paltry heart that pleases none: -- That dull, cold sensualist, whose sickly eye In envious dimness pass'd thy portrait by; Who rack'd his little spirit to combine Its hate of Freedom's loveliness, and thine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...1801: AMONG THE PAPERS OF THE ENVOY TO CONSTANTINOPLE by RICHARD HOWARD VENETIAN INTERIOR, 1889 by RICHARD HOWARD THERE IS A GOLD LIGHT IN CERTAIN OLD PAINTINGS by DONALD JUSTICE DUTCH INTERIORS by JANE KENYON INVITATION TO A PAINTER: 3 by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM THE CHINA PAINTERS by TED KOOSER ELEGY FOR SOL LEWITT by ANN LAUTERBACH ON THE SEPARATION OF ADAM AND EVE by TIMOTHY LIU ALL IS VANITY, SAITH THE PREACHER' by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |
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