The National Register.
London, England, 1816-04-22 00:00:00

LORD AND LADY BYR GY.

We noticed in our las: Paper the unhappy separation of Lord Byron
and his Ludy.—The two following poems by his I.ordship on this subject,
although not written thr the public eye, have since found their way into
the newspawrs, and have attracted great public notice. The Sketch
jilkla Lifi., has been strongly condemned by the Editor of the
Titus, as "an attack by a man of rank, talents, and literary reputation.
on an unprote.:ted, a defencel ns. and a dependant female, to gruify
insatiable revenge ;" whilst on the other hand, the Editor of the Mord-
C'hrotriele vindicates his Lonlship; and asserts, that if " the publi-
cation of all the circumstances of the unhappy dispute should become
necessary, every impartial reader will agree with hitn, that nothing but
the must gross misrepresentation, and malignant influence un a delietdc
wind, could have operated the separation that has taken plats.

FARE TULE WELL.
Fare thee well! and if for ever—
Still fur ever, fare thee well—
Ev'n though unforgiving, never
'Gainst thee shall illy heart rebel.
Would that breast were bared beftwe thee
Where thy head so of hath lain
W bile that placid sleep Lame o'er thee
Which thou never can'st know again;
Would that breast, by thee ginned over,
Every inmost thought could chew!
Then, thou would'st at last discover

'Twits not well to spurn it so.
Though the world for this commend thee—
Though it smile upon the blow,—
kw:it its praises must offend thee,
Founded on another's woe.
Though my many faults Mac ti me;
Could no other arm he found
Than the um which once cmbraNd me
To inflict a cureless wound? .
Yet—oh, yet—thyself deceive not—
Love may sink by low decay,
But by sudden wrench, believe not,
Hearts can thus be torn away
Still thine own its life retaineth—
Still must mine—though bleeding—beat,
And the undying thought which paineth

,
Is—that we no more' may meet.
Thesic are words of deeper sorrow
Than the wail above the dead,
Both shall live—but every morrow
Wake us from a widowed bed.
And when thou would'st solace gather—
When our child's first accents flow—
Wilt thou teach her to say—" Father!"
Though his care she must forego?
When her little hands shall press theo—
When her lip to thine is pess'd—
Think of him whose prayer shall bkss thee—
Think of him thy love had bless; d.
Should her lineammts resemble
There thou never more may'st sec—
Then thy heart will softly tremble
With a pulse yet trite to me.
All my faults—perchance thou knowest—
All my madness—noneran know;

All tng liop.m—where'cr thou goevtL.
Whither—yet with thee they go.
Every fading bath been shaken,
pride—which not a world can bow—
Bows to thee—by thee forsakm
Even my soul forsakes me now.
But 'tie done—all words are idle—
Words from me are vainer
But the thoughts we cannot bridle
Fore their way without the will.
Far: thee well!—thus disunited—
Tore from every nearer tic—.
Sear'd in heartand love—and blighted—
More than this I scarce can die.

MARCH 30, 1616.
A SKETCH FROM PRIVATE LIFE.
•• I onest—lionest lago!
" If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee."
Born in the garret, in the kitchen bred,
Promoted thence to deck her mistress head;
ext—for some gracious service tinexprest,
And from its wages only to be guess'd—
Raised from the toikt to the table,—where
Iler wondering betters wait behind her cludr;
With eye unmoved, and forehead unabasli'd,
She dines from off the plate she lately wailed.
Quick with die tale, and ready with the lit
The genial confidante, and g,nral spy—
Who could. ye gods! lair next employment guess—
An only infant's earliest governess.
She taught the child to read, and taught co well,
That she herself, by teaching, learn'd to spell.
An adept next in penmanship she grows,
As many a nameless slander deftly shows:
What she had made the pupil of her art,
Nene know—hut that high Soul secured the heart,
And panted for the truth it could net hear,
With longing breast and und eluded ear.
F'oil'd was perversion by that youthful mind,
Which Flattery fooled not—Baseness could not blind,
Deceit infect not—nor Contagion soil—
Indulgence weaken—ner`Peample spoil--
Nor master'd Science tens/001er to look down
On humbler talents with 4 pitying frown—
Nor Genius ewell—nor Reality rendor vain—
Igor Envy ruffle to retaliate pain—
Nor Fortune change--Pride raise—nor Passion bow,
Nor Virtue teach austerity--till now.
Serenely purest of her sex that live,
But wanting one sweet we akma,s—to forgive;
Too shock'd at faults her soul can never know,
She deems that all could be like her below:
Foe to all Vice, vet hardly Virtue's friend,
For Virtue pardons those she would amend.

SIIAKSFEARE.

But to the theme:—now laid aside too long,
The baleful burthen of this honest song—
Tho' nll her former functions are no more,
She riles the circle which she served before.
If mut hers—none know why—before her quake;
Id:slighter, dread her for the mothers' sake;
f early habits--those false links, which bind
At tinirs thr haled to the meanest mind—
lave given her power too deeply to instil
The emgry essence of her deadly will;
if. like a snake, :lie steal within your walls,
Till the Mark slime betray her as she crawls;
If, like a viper, to the heart she wind,
And leave clic venom there she did not find;
What marvel that this hag of hatred works
Eternal evil latent as she lurks,
'Po make a Pandemonium where she dwells,
f,nil rrign Cie !lame of domestic hells?
Vaill'd by a touch to deepen scandal's tints
W:tb tII the kind alentlicny of