INTRODUCTION

The earliest poem in this volume bears the date 1794, when Lamb was nineteen, the latest 1834, the year of his death; so that it covers an even longer period of his life than Vol. I.—the "Miscellaneous Prose." The chronological order which was strictly observed in that volume has been only partly observed in the following pages—since it seemed better to keep the plays together and to make a separate section of Lamb's epigrams. These, therefore, will be found to be outside the general scheme. Such of Lamb's later poems as he did not himself collect in volume form will also be found to be out of their chronological position, partly because it has seemed to me best to give prominence to those verses which Lamb himself reprinted, and partly because there is often no indication of the year in which the poem was written.

Another difficulty has been the frequency with which Lamb reprinted some of his earlier poetry. The text of many of his earliest and best poems was not fixed until 1818, twenty years or so after their composition. It had to be decided whether to print these poems in their true order as they were first published—in Coleridge's Poems on Various Subjects, 1796; in Charles Lloyd's ems on the Death of Priscilla Farmer, 1796; in Coleridge's Poems, second edition, 1797; in Blank Verse by Charles Lloyd and Charles Lamb, 1798; and in John Woodvil, 1802—with all their early readings; or whether to disregard chronological sequence, and wait until the time of the Works—1818—had come, and print them all together then. I decided, in the interests of their biographical value, to print them in the order as they first appeared, particularly as Crabb Robinson tells us that Lamb once said of the arrangement of a poet's works: "There is only one good order—and that is the order in which they were written—that is a history of the poet's

mind." It then had to be decided whether to print them in their first shape, which, unless I repeated them later, would mean the relegation of Lamb's final text to the Notes, or to print them, at the expense of a slight infringement upon the chronological scheme, in their final 1818 state, and relegate all earlier readings to the Notes. After much deliberation I decided that to print them in their final 1818 state was best, and this therefore I did in the large edition of 1903, to which the student is referred for all variorum readings, fuller notes and many illustrations, and have repeated here. In order, however, that the scheme of Lamb's 1818 edition of his Works might be preserved, I have indicated in the text the position in the Works occupied by all the poems that in the present volume have been printed earlier.

The chronological order, in so far as it has been followed, emphasises the dividing line between Lamb's poetry and his verse. As he grew older his poetry, for the most part, passed into his prose. His best and truest poems, with few exceptions, belong to the years before, say, 1805, when he was thirty. After this, following a long interval of silence, came the brief satirical outburst of 1812, in The Examiner, and the longer one, in 1820, in The Champion; then, after another interval, during which he was busy as Elia, came the period of album verses, which lasted to the end. The impulse to write personal prose, which was quickened in Lamb by the London Magazine in 1820, seems to have taken the place of his old ambition to be a poet. In his later and more mechanical period there were, however, occasional inspirations, as when he wrote the sonnet on "Work," in 1819; on "Leisure," in 1821; the lines in his own Album, in 1827, and, pre-eminently, the poem "On an Infant Dying as Soon as Born," in 1827.

This volume contains, with the exception of the verse for children, which will be found in Vol. III. of this edition, all the accessible poetical work of Charles and Mary Lamb that is known to exist and several poems not to be found in the large edition. There are probably still many copies of album verses which have not yet seen the light. In the London Magazine, April, 1824, is a story entitled "The Bride of Modern Italy," which has for motto the following couplet:—

My heart is fixt: This is the sixt.—Elia.

but the rest of what seems to be a pleasant catalogue is missing. In a letter to Coleridge, December 2, 1796, Lamb refers to a poem which has apparently perished, beginning, "Laugh, all that weep." I have left in the correspondence the rhyming letters to Ayrton and Dibdin, and an epigram on "Coelebs in Search of a Wife." I have placed the dedication to Coleridge at the beginning of this volume, although it belongs properly only to those poems that are reprinted from the Works of 1818, the prose of which Lamb offered to Martin Burney. But it is too fine to be put among the Notes, and it may easily, by a pardonable stretch, be made to refer to the whole body of Lamb's poetical and dramatic work, although Album Verses, 1830, was dedicated separately to Edward Moxon.

In Mr. Bedford's design for the cover of this edition certain Elian symbolism will be found. The upper coat of arms is that of Christ's Hospital, where Lamb was at school; the lower is that of the Inner Temple, where he was born and spent many years. The figures at the bells are those which once stood out from the façade of St. Dunstan's Church in Fleet Street, and are now in Lord Londesborough's garden in Regent's Park. Lamb shed tears when they were removed. The tricksy sprite and the candles (brought by Betty) need no explanatory words of mine.

E.V.L.

CONTENTS TEXT NOTE PAGE PAGE

Dedication 1 307 Lamb's earliest poem, "Mille viae mortis" 3 307 Poems in Coleridge's Poems on Various Subjects, 1796:— "As when a child …" 4 308 "Was it some sweet device …" 4 309 "Methinks how dainty sweet …" 5 311 "Oh! I could laugh …" 5 311 From Charles Lloyd's Poems on the Death of Priscilla Farmer, 1796;— The Grandame 6 312 Poems from Coleridge's Poems, 1797:— "When last I roved …" 8 315 "A timid grace …" 8 315 "If from my lips …" 9 315 "We were two pretty babes …" 9 315 Childhood 9 315 The Sabbath Bells 10 316 Fancy Employed on Divine Subjects 10 316 The Tomb of Douglas 11 316 To Charles Lloyd 12 316 A Vision of Repentance 13 317 Poems Written in the Years 1795-98, and not Reprinted by Lamb:— "The Lord of Life …" 16 317 To the Poet Cowper 16 317 Lines addressed to Sara and S.T.C. 17 318 Sonnet to a Friend 18 318 To a Young Lady 18 319 Living Without God in the World 19 319 Poems from Blank Verse, by Charles Lloyd and Charles Lamb, 1798:— To Charles Lloyd 21 320 Written on the Day of My Aunt's Funeral 21 320 Written a Year After the Events 22 321

Written Soon After the Preceding Poem 24 322 Written on Christmas Day, 1797 25 322 The Old Familiar Faces 25 322 Composed at Midnight 26 323 Poems at the End of John Woodvil, 1802:— Helen. By Mary Lamb 28 323 Ballad. From the German 29 324 Hypochondriacus 29 324 A Ballad Noting the Difference of Rich and Poor 30 324 Poems in Charles Lamb's Works, 1818, not Previously Printed in the Present Volume:— Hester 32 325 Dialogue Between a Mother and Child. By Mary Lamb 33 325 A Farewell to Tobacco 34 325 To T.L.H. 38 326 Salome. By Mary Lamb 39 —- Lines Suggested by a Picture of Two Females by Lionardo da Vinci. By Mary Lamb 41 327 Lines on the Same Picture being Removed. By Mary Lamb 41 327 Lines on the Celebrated Picture by Lionardo da Vinci, called "The Virgin of the Rocks" 42 327 On the Same. By Mary Lamb 42 327 To Miss Kelly 43 328 On the Sight of Swans in Kensington Garden 43 328 The Family Name 44 328 To John Lamb, Esq 44 329 To Martin Charles Burney, Esq 45 329 Album Verses, 1830:— Album Verses:— In the Album of a Clergyman's Lady 46 332

In the Autograph Book of Mrs. Sergeant W—— 46 332 In the Album of Lucy Barton 47 332 In the Album of Miss —— 48 332 In the Album of a very Young Lady 48 332 In the Album of a French Teacher 49 332 In the Album of Miss Daubeny 49 333 In the Album of Mrs. Jane Towers 50 333 In My Own Album 50 333 Miscellaneous:— Angel Help 51 333 The Christening 52 333 On an Infant Dying as Soon as Born 53 333 To Bernard Barton 55 334 The Young Catechist 56 334 She is Going 57 335 To a Young Friend 57 335 To the Same 58 335 Sonnets:— Harmony in Unlikeness 58 336 Written at Cambridge 59 336 To a Celebrated Female Performer in the "Blind Boy" 59 336 Work 59 336 Leisure 60 336 To Samuel Rogers, Esq. 60 337 The Gipsy's Malison 61 337 Commendatory Verses:— To the Author of Poems Published under the Name of Barry Cornwall 61 338 To R.S. Knowles, Esq. 62 338 To the Editor of the Every-Day Book 63 338 Acrostics:— To Caroline Maria Applebee 63 339 To Cecilia Catherine Lawton 64 339 Acrostic, to a Lady who Desired Me to Write Her Epitaph 65 339 Another, to Her Youngest Daughter 65 339

Translations from the Latin of Vincent Bourne:— On a Sepulchral Statue of an Infant Sleeping 66 340 The Rival Bells 66 340 Epitaph on a Dog 67 340 The Ballad Singers 67 340 To David Cook 69 340 On a Deaf and Dumb Artist 70 340 Newton's Principia 71 340 The House-keeper 71 340 The Female Orators 72 340 Pindaric Ode to the Tread Mill 72 341 Going or Gone 75 341 New Poems in The Poetical Works of Charles Lamb, 1836:— In the Album of Edith S—— 78 343 To Dora W—— 78 343 In the Album of Rotha Q—— 79 344 In the Album of Catherine Orkney 79 —- To T. Stothard, Esq. 80 344 To a Friend on His Marriage 80 344 The Self-Enchanted 81 344 To Louisa M——, whom I used to call "Monkey" 82 344 Cheap Gifts: a Sonnet 82 344 Free Thoughts on Several Eminent Composers 83 344 Miscellaneous Poems not collected by Lamb:— Dramatic Fragment 85 345 Dick Strype; or, The Force of Habit 86 345 Two Epitaphs on a Young Lady 88 346 The Ape 89 346 In tabulam eximii pictoris B. Haydoni 90 347 Translation of Same 90 347 Sonnet to Miss Burney 91 347 To My Friend the Indicator 91 348

On seeing Mrs. K—— B——, aged upwards of eighty, nurse an infant 92 348 To Emma, Learning Latin, and Desponding 93 349 Lines Addressed to Lieut. R.W.H. Hardy, R.N. 93 349 Lines for a Monument 94 349 To C. Aders, Esq. 94 349 Hercules Pacificatus 95 349 The Parting Speech of the Celestial Messenger to the Poet 98 349 Existence, Considered in Itself, no Blessing 99 350 To Samuel Rogers, Esq. 100 350 To Clara N—— 101 350 The Sisters 101 350 Love Will Come 102 351 To Margaret W—— 102 351 Additional Album Verses and Acrostics:— What is an Album? 104 351 The First Leaf of Spring 105 352 To Mrs. F—— 105 352 To M. L—— F—— 106 352 To Esther Field 106 352 To Mrs. Williams 107 352 To the Book 107 353 To S.F. 108 353 To R.Q. 108 353 To S.L. 109 353 To M.L. 109 353 An Acrostic Against Acrostics 109 353 On Being Asked to Write in Miss Westwood's Album 110 353 In Miss Westwood's Album. By Mary Lamb 110 353 Un Solitaire. To Sarah Lachlan 111 353 To S. T 111 354 To Mrs. Sarah Robinson 111 354 To Sarah 112 354 To Joseph Vale Asbury 112 354 To D.A. 113 354

To Louisa Morgan 113 354 To Sarah James of Beguildy 113 354 To Emma Button 114 354 Written upon the Cover of a Blotting Book 114 354 Political and Other Epigrams:— To Sir James Mackintosh 115 357 Twelfth Night Characters:— Mr. A—— 115 358 Messrs. C——g and F——e 115 358 Count Rumford 116 358 On a Late Empiric of "Balmy" Memory 116 358 Epigrams:— "Princeps his rent …" 116 359 "Ye Politicians, tell me, pray …" 116 359 The Triumph of the Whale 116 359 Sonnet. St. Crispin to Mr. Gifford 118 360 The Godlike 118 360 The Three Graves 119 360 Sonnet to Mathew Wood, Esq. 119 361 On a Projected Journey 120 361 Song for the C——-n 120 362 The Unbeloved 120 362 On the Arrival in England of Lord Byron's Remains 121 362 Lines Suggested by a Sight of Waltham Cross 121 363 For the Table Book 122 363 The Royal Wonders 122 363 "Brevis Esse Laboro" 122 363 Suum Cuique 123 363 On the Literary Gazette 123 365 On the Fast-Day 123 365 Nonsense Verses 123 365 On Wawd 124 366 Six Epitaphs 124 366 Time and Eternity 126 366 From the Latin 126 366 Satan in Search of a Wife 127 366

Part 1 128 —- Part II 133 —- Prologues and Epilogues:— Epilogue to Godwin's Tragedy of "Antonio" 138 368 Prologue to Godwin's Tragedy of "Faulkener" 140 369 Epilogue to Henry Siddons' Farce, "Time's a Tell-Tale" 140 369 Prologue to Coleridge's Tragedy of "Remorse" 142 369 Epilogue to Kenney's Farce, "Debtor and Creditor" 143 371 Epilogue to an Amateur Performance of "Richard II." 145 371 Prologue to Sheridan Knowles' Comedy, "The Wife" 146 372 Epilogue to Sheridan Knowles' Comedy, "The Wife" 147 372 John Woodvil 149 372 The Witch 199 392 Mr. H——— 202 392 The Pawnbroker's Daughter 238 397 The Wife's Trial 273 —- Poems in the Notes:— Lines to Dorothy Wordsworth. By Mary Lamb 328 Lines on Lamb's Want of Ear. By Mary Lamb 345 A Lady's Sapphic. By Mary Lamb (?) 356 An English Sapphic. By Charles Lamb (?) 357 Two Epigrams. By Charles Lamb (?) 359 The Poetical Cask. By Charles Lamb (?) 363

NOTES 307

INDEX 399

INDEX OF FIRST LINES 409

FRONTISPIECE

CHARLES LAMB (AGE 23)

From the Drawing by Robert Hancock, now in the National Portrait Gallery.

DEDICATION (1818) TO S.T. COLERIDGE, ESQ.

My Dear Coleridge,

You will smile to see the slender labors of your friend designated by the title of Works; but such was the wish of the gentlemen who have kindly undertaken the trouble of collecting them, and from their judgment could be no appeal.

It would be a kind of disloyalty to offer to any one but yourself a volume containing the early pieces, which were first published among your poems, and were fairly derivatives from you and them. My friend Lloyd and myself came into our first battle (authorship is a sort of warfare) under cover of the greater Ajax. How this association, which shall always be a dear and proud recollection to me, came to be broken, —who snapped the three-fold cord,—whether yourself (but I know that was not the case) grew ashamed of your former companions,—or whether (which is by much the more probable) some ungracious bookseller was author of the separation,—I cannot tell;—but wanting the support of your friendly elm, (I speak for myself,) my vine has, since that time, put forth few or no fruits; the sap (if ever it had any) has become, in a manner, dried up and extinct; and you will find your old associate, in his second volume, dwindled into prose and criticism.

Am I right in assuming this as the cause? or is it that, as years come upon us, (except with some more healthy-happy spirits,) Life itself loses much of its Poetry for us? we transcribe but what we read in the great volume of Nature; and, as the characters grow dim, we turn off, and look another way. You yourself write no Christabels, nor Ancient Mariners, now.

Some of the Sonnets, which shall be carelessly turned over by the general reader, may happily awaken in you remembrances, which I should be sorry should be ever totally extinct—the memory

Of summer days and of delightful years—

even so far back as to those old suppers at our old ****** Inn,—when life was fresh, and topics exhaustless,—and you first kindled in me, if not the power, yet the love of poetry, and beauty, and kindliness.—

What words have I heard Spoke at the Mermaid!

The world has given you many a shrewd nip and gird since that time, but either my eyes are grown dimmer, or my old friend is the same, who stood before me three and twenty years ago—his hair a little confessing the hand of time, but still shrouding the same capacious brain,—his heart not altered, scarcely where it "alteration finds."

One piece, Coleridge, I have ventured to publish in its original form, though I have heard you complain of a certain over-imitation of the antique in the style. If I could see any way of getting rid of the objection, without re-writing it entirely, I would make some sacrifices. But when I wrote John Woodvil, I never proposed to myself any distinct deviation from common English. I had been newly initiated in the writings of our elder dramatists; Beaumont and Fletcher, and Massinger, were then a first love; and from what I was so freshly conversant in, what wonder if my language imperceptibly took a tinge? The very time, which I have chosen for my story, that which immediately followed the Restoration, seemed to require, in an English play, that the English should be of rather an older cast, than that of the precise year in which it happened to be written. I wish it had not some faults, which I can less vindicate than the language.

I remain, My dear Coleridge, Your's, With unabated esteem, C. LAMB.

LAMB'S EARLIEST POEM

MILLE VIAE MORTIS

(1789)

What time in bands of slumber all were laid, To Death's dark court, methought I was convey'd; In realms it lay far hid from mortal sight, And gloomy tapers scarce kept out the night.

On ebon throne the King of Terrors sate; Around him stood the ministers of Fate; On fell destruction bent, the murth'rous band Waited attentively his high command.

Here pallid Fear & dark Despair were seen. And Fever here with looks forever lean, Swoln Dropsy, halting Gout, profuse of woes, And Madness fierce & hopeless of repose,

Wide-wasting Plague; but chief in honour stood More-wasting War, insatiable of blood; With starting eye-balls, eager for the word; Already brandish'd was the glitt'ring sword.

Wonder and fear alike had fill'd my breast, And thus the grisly Monarch I addrest—

"Of earth-born Heroes why should Poets sing, And thee neglect, neglect the greatest King? To thee ev'n Caesar's self was forc'd to yield The glories of Pharsalia's well-fought field."

When, with a frown, "Vile caitiff, come not here," Abrupt cried Death; "shall flatt'ry soothe my ear?" "Hence, or thou feel'st my dart!" the Monarch said. Wild terror seiz'd me, & the vision fled.

POEMS IN COLERIDGE'S POEMS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS, 1796

(Written late in 1794. Text of 1797)

As when a child on some long winter's night Affrighted clinging to its Grandam's knees With eager wond'ring and perturb'd delight Listens strange tales of fearful dark decrees Mutter'd to wretch by necromantic spell; Or of those hags, who at the witching time Of murky midnight ride the air sublime, And mingle foul embrace with fiends of Hell: Cold Horror drinks its blood! Anon the tear More gentle starts, to hear the Beldame tell Of pretty babes, that lov'd each other dear, Murder'd by cruel Uncle's mandate fell: Ev'n such the shiv'ring joys thy tones impart, Ev'n so thou, SIDDONS! meltest my sad heart!

(Probably 1795. Text of 1818)

Was it some sweet device of Faery That mocked my steps with many a lonely glade, And fancied wanderings with a fair-hair'd maid? Have these things been? or what rare witchery, Impregning with delights the charmed air, Enlighted up the semblance of a smile In those fine eyes? methought they spake the while Soft soothing things, which might enforce despair To drop the murdering knife, and let go by His foul resolve. And does the lonely glade Still court the foot-steps of the fair-hair'd maid? Still in her locks the gales of summer sigh? While I forlorn do wander reckless where, And 'mid my wanderings meet no Anna there.

(Probably 1795. Text of 1818)

Methinks how dainty sweet it were, reclin'd Beneath the vast out-stretching branches high Of some old wood, in careless sort to lie, Nor of the busier scenes we left behind Aught envying. And, O Anna! mild-eyed maid! Beloved! I were well content to play With thy free tresses all a summer's day, Losing the time beneath the greenwood shade. Or we might sit and tell some tender tale Of faithful vows repaid by cruel scorn, A tale of true love, or of friend forgot; And I would teach thee, lady, how to rail In gentle sort, on those who practise not Or love or pity, though of woman born.

(1794. Text of 1818)