ce there_.--[Second Edition.]

[56] The attachment of the nightingale to the rose is a well-known
Persian fable. If I mistake not, the "Bulbul of a thousand tales" is one
of his appellations.

[Thus Mesihi, as translated by Sir William Jones--

"Come, charming maid! and hear thy poet sing,
Thyself the rose and he the bird of spring:
Love bids him sing, and Love will be obey'd.
Be gay: too soon the flowers of spring will fade."

"The full style and title of the Persian nightingale (_Pycnonotus
haemorrhous_) is 'Bulbul-i-hazar-dastan,' usually shortened to 'Hazar'
(bird of a thousand tales = the thousand), generally called 'Andalib.'"
(See _Arabian Nights_, by Richard F. Burton, 1887; _Supplemental
Nights_, iii. 506.) For the nightingale's attachment to the rose,
compare Moore's _Lalla Rookh_--

"Oh! sooner shall the rose of May
Mistake her own sweet nightingale," etc.

(Ed. "Chandos Classics," p. 423)

and Fitzgerald's translation of the _Rubaiyat_ of Omar Khayyam (stanza
vi.)--

"And David's lips are lockt; but in divine
High piping Pehlevi, with 'Wine! Wine! Wine!
Red Wine!'--the Nightingale cries to the Rose
That sallow cheek of hers to incarnadine."

_Rubaiyat, etc._, 1899, p. 29, and note, p. 62.

Byron was indebted for his information to a note on a passage in
_Vathek_, by S. Henley (_Vathek_, 1893, p. 217).]

[57] {87} The guitar is the constant amusement of the Greek sailor by
night; with a steady fair wind, and during a calm, it is accompanied
always by the voice, and often by dancing.

[ch] {88} _Should wanton in a wilderness_.--[MS.]

[ci] The first draft of this celebrated passage differs in many
particulars from the Fair Copy, which, with the exception of the
passages marked as _vars._ i. (p. 89) and i. (p. 90), is the same as the
text. It ran as follows:--

_He who hath bent him o'er the dead_
_Ere the first day of death is fled_--
_The first dark day of Nothingness_
_The last of_ doom _and of distress_--
_Before_ Corruption's _cankering fingers_
_Hath_ tinged the hue _where Beauty lingers_
_And marked_ the soft and settled _air_
That dwells with all but Spirit there
_The fixed yet tender_ lines _that speak_
Of Peace along _the placid cheek_
_And--but for that sad shrouded eye_
_That fires not_--pleads _not--weeps not--now-