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ADVERTISEMENT.

THE grand army of the Turks (in 1715), under the Prime Vizier, to open to themselves a way into the heart of the Morea, and to form the siege of Napoli di Romania, the most considerable place in all that country, thought it best in the first place to attack Corinth, upon which they made several storms. The garrison being weakened, and the governor seeing it was impossible to hold out against so mighty a force, thought it fit to beat a parley: but while they were treating about the articles, one of the magazines in the Turkish camp, wherein they had six hundred barrels of powder, blew up by accident, whereby six or seven hundred men were killed; which so enraged the infidels, that they would not grant any capitulation, but stormed the place with so much fury, that they took it, and put most of the garrison, with Signior Minotti, the governor, to the sword. The rest, with Antonio Bembo, proveditor extraordinary, were made prisoners of war."--History of the Turks, vol. iii. p. 151.

* Napoli di Romania is not now the most considerable place in the Morea, but Tripolitza, where the Pacha resides, and maintains his government. Napoli is near Argos. I visited all three in 1810-11; and, in the course of journeying through the country from my first arrival in 1809, I crossed the Isthmus eight times in my way from Attica to the Morea, over the mountains; or in the other direction, when passing from the Gulf of Athens to that of Lepanto. Both the routes are picturesque and beautiful, though very different: that by sea has more sameness; but the voyage being always within sight of land, and often very near it, presents many attractive views of the islands Salamis, Ægina, Pora, &c., and the coast of the Continent.

THE

INTRODUCTION TO

SIEGE OF CORINTH.

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THE "Siege of Corinth" and "Parisina" appeared-nearly simultaneously-the first in January, the second in February, 1816, and a thousand guineas were paid for the copyright of the two. Lord Byron considered neither of them to have much pretension, which may be the reason he kept them back, though chiefly written before other pieces which were earlier published. The motive he assigned for continuing to linger over the scenes of his travels was that they were growing confused in his mind, and from partiality to the places, he was anxious to fix the colours before they faded away. His fondness for these recollections is expressed in the concluding passage of the prefatory lines to the Siege of Corinth," which were only printed after his death. It was objected to the tale that parts of it were composed, through negligence, in a very irregular metre. What was thought to be carelessness, was, however, design; nor can it be denied that, besides the charm of variety, an increased effect is imparted to shifting emotions by a change in the melody. In the "Siege of Corinth" the artifice has been carried to excess. Several of the transitions are discordant, and while the metre is sometimes too jingling for passionate verse, the language has often less energy and polish than is usual with Byron. Mr. Gifford revised the tale, at the request of the author, and drew his pen through a popular, but by no means faultless passage, in the sixteenth section. His advice in other respects seems sound, and by removing blemishes would have heightened the beauty of the poem. This, after all deductions, is great. The slight, but skilfully constructed tale, is, as usual, one of hapless love, and, as usual, there is a blight upon the soul of the hero; but the tone is not altogether the same with that of its predecessors. Instead of tumultuous deeds and passions, the larger portion is pervaded by an oppressive gloom or a tender melancholy. Alp, a traitor to his creed and country, is leagued with the Turks to wrest Corinth from the Venetians, and hopes on the morrow to win the fortress, and more precious still, his once promised bride. The awful stillness of the night, the restlessness of the conscience-stricken hero, the sickening spectacle of the dogs devouring the dead, are a fitting

introduction to the vision of Francesca, who comes to reproach her lover with his crime, and urge him to repentance. From the pathos, the solemnity, and the mystery of this beautiful scene, we pass to the animated description of the siege. Nothing can be more finely imagined than the passage in which Alp, confronting Francesca's father, learns that she died before their last night's colloquy, or than the verification of her prophecy in his instant death,

"Ere his very thought could pray,"

while staggering under the intelligence which reveals to him that she was a visitant from the other world. The execution here is hardly equal to the thought, and it is the want, in places, of a little more pains in the workmanship which has alone prevented the "Siege of Corinth" from ranking with the best of Byron's tales. The interest ceases with the death of Alp, and there the piece should have been contrived to end.

!

THE SIEGE OF CORINTH.

IN the year since Jesus died for men,
Eighteen hundred years and ten,
We were a gallant company,

Riding o'er land, and sailing o'er sea.
Oh! but we went merrily!

We forded the river, and clomb the high hill,
Never our steeds for a day stood still;
Whether we lay in the cave or the shed,
Our sleep fell soft on the hardest bed;
Whether we couch'd in our rough capote,
On the rougher plank of our gliding boat,
Or stretch'd on the beach, or our saddles spread
As a pillow bencath the resting head,
Fresh we woke upon the morrow:

All our thoughts and words had scope,
We had health, and we had hope,

Toil and travel, but no sorrow.
We were of all tongues and creeds;-
Some were those who counted beads,
Some of mosque, and some of church,
And some, or I mis-say, of neither;
Yet through the wide world might ye search,
Nor find a motlier crew nor blither.

But some are dead, and some are gone,
And some are scatter'd and alone,

And some are rebels on the hills!

That look along Epirus' valleys,

Where freedom still at moments rallies,

And pays in blood oppression's ills;

And some are in a far countree, And some all restlessly at home; But never more, oh! never, we Shall meet to revel and to roam.

But those hardy days flew cheerily !
And when they now fall drearily,

My thoughts, like swallows, skim the main,
And bear my spirit back again

Over the earth, and through the air,

A wild bird and a wanderer.

"Tis this that ever wakes my strain,
And oft, too oft, implores again
The few who may endure my lay,
To follow me so far away.
Stranger-wilt thou follow now,

And sit with me on Acro-Corinth's brow?

1.

Many a vanish'd year and age,

And tempest's breath, and battle's rage,
Have swept o'er Corinth; yet she stands,
A fortress form'd to Freedom's hands.2
The whirlwind's wrath, the earthquake's shock,
Have left untouch'd her hoary rock,
The keystone of a land, which still,

Though fall'n, looks proudly on that hill,
The landmark to the double tide
That purpling rolls on either side,
As if their waters chafed to meet,
Yet pause and crouch beneath her feet.
But could the blood before her shed
Since first Timoleon's brother bled,"
Or baffled Persia's despot fled,

Arise from out the earth which drank
The stream of slaughter as it sank,
That sanguine ocean would o'erflow
Her isthmus idly spread below:
Or could the bones of all the slain,
Who perish'd there, be piled again,
That rival pyramid would rise

More mountain-like, through those clear skies,

Than yon tower-capp'd Acropolis,

Which seems the very clouds to kiss.

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