The Poetical Works of Owen Meredith
Meredith, Owen (Robert, Lord Lytton)
Published by Thomas Y. Crowell (undated circa 1800's)
Measures 7x5 inches Weighs 1 pound 5 ounces
Ornate and delicately decorated of red cloth boards with black embossed vines and gold floral decoration.
Gleaming Gold edged text-block, top, side and bottom.
Lovely Pages each have a plain lined decoration at margins.
Text is crisp and clean.
Book is solid, sturdy and well built.
TO MY FATHER.
I DEDICATE to you a work, which is submitted to the public with a diffidence and
Hesitation proportioned to the novelty of the effort it represents. For in this poem I
have abandoned those forms of verse with which I had most familiarized my thoughts,
and have endeavored to follow a path on which I could discover no footprints before
me, either to guide or to warn. _ _ _
a moment of profound discouragement which succeeds to prolonged effort;
when, the labor which has become a habit having ceased, we miss the sustaining sen se
of its championship, and stand, with a feeling of strangeness and embarrassment, be
fore the abrupt and naked result. As regards myself, in the present instance, the force
of all such sensations is increased by the circumstances to which I have referred. And
in this moment of discouragement and doubt my heart instinctively turns to you, from
whom it has so often sought, from whom it has never failed to receive, support.
Ldo not inscribe to you this book because it contains anything that is worthy of the
beloved and honored name with which I thus seek to associate it: nor yet, because I
would avail myself of a vulgar pretext to display in public an affection that is best
honored by the silence which it renders sacred.
Feelings only such as those with which, in days when there existed for ine no critic
less gentle than yourself, I brought to you my childish manuscripts,—feelings only
such as those which have, in later years, associated with your heart all that has movea*
or occupied my own,—lead me once more to seek assurance from the grasp of that hand
which has hitherto been my guide and comfort through the life I owe to you.
And as in childhood, when existence had no toil beyond the day's simple lesson, no
ambition beyond the neighboring approval of the night, I brought to you the morning's
task for the evening's sanction, so now 1 bring to you this self-appointed task-work of
maturer years; less confident indeed of your approval, but not less confident of
your love ; and anxious only to realize your presence between myself and the public,
and to mingle with those severer voices to whose final sentence I submit my work the
velovea and gracious accents of your own.
Letter from the COMTESSE DE NEV-
a n s lo LORD ALFRED VARORAVE.
I HEAR from Bigorre you are there.
I am told
i ou are going to marry Miss Darcy.
Of old, [it now,
DO long since you may have forgotten
When we parted as friends, soon
mere Strangers lo grow,)
Your last words recorded a pled)
what you will—
A promise—the time is now come to
The letters I ask you, my lord, to re
I desire to receive from your hand.
My reasons, which, therefore, I need
The distance to Luchon is short I