His
translation of the 'Poems of Catullus' was published in 1821. In 1819,
as the representative of the official Whigs, he was elected for
Westminster against Hobhouse; but was defeated at the next election
(1820).]
* * * * *
Monday, Dec. 6.
Murray tells me that Croker asked him why the thing was called the
_Bride_ of Abydos? It is a cursed awkward question, being unanswerable.
_She_ is not a _bride_, only about to be one; but for, etc., etc., etc.
I don't wonder at his finding out the _Bull_; but the detection----is
too late to do any good. I was a great fool to make it, and am ashamed
of not being an Irishman.
Campbell last night seemed a little nettled at something or other--I
know not what. We were standing in the ante-saloon, when Lord H. brought
out of the other room a vessel of some composition similar to that which
is used in Catholic churches, and, seeing us, he exclaimed, "Here is
some _incense_ for you." Campbell answered--"Carry it to Lord Byron, _he
is used to it_."
Now, this comes of "bearing no brother near the throne." [1]
I, who have no throne, nor wish to have one _now_, whatever I may have
done, am at perfect peace with all the poetical fraternity; or, at
least, if I dislike any, it is not _poetically_, but _personally_.
Surely the field of thought is infinite; what does it signify who is
before or behind in a race where there is no _goal_? The temple of fame
is like that of the Persians, the universe; our altar, the tops of
mountains.
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