THE CHARITY BALL.
71
Let him think of the glories of Greece and of Rome,
And get knocked on the head for his labours.
To do good to Mankind is the chivalrous plan,
And is always as nobly requited;
Then battle for Freedom wherever you can,
And, if not shot or hanged, you'll get knighted.
November 5, 1820.
[First published, Letters and Journals, 1830, ii. 377.]
[First published, Letters and Journals, 1830, ii. 377.]
TO PENELOPE.[1]
January 2, 1821.
This day, of all our days, has done
The worst for me and you:—
'T is just six years since we were one,
And five since we were two.
November 5, 1820.
[First published, Medwin's Conversations, 1824, p. 106.]
[First published, Medwin's Conversations, 1824, p. 106.]
THE CHARITY BALL.[2]
What matter the pangs of a husband and father,
If his sorrows in exile be great or be small,
So the Pharisee's glories around her she gather,
And the saint patronises her "Charity Ball!"
- ↑ ["For the anniversary of January 2, 1821, I have a small grateful anticipation, which, in case of accident, I add."—Letter to Moore, November 5, 1820, Letters, 1891, v. 112.]
- ↑ [Written on seeing the following paragraph in a newspaper: "Lady Byron is this year the lady patroness at the annual Charity Ball, given at the Town Hall, at Hinckley, Leicestershire...."—Life, p. 535. Moore adds that "these verses [of which he only prints two stanzas] are full of strong and indignant feeling,—every stanza concluding pointedly with the words 'Charity Ball.'"]
