There was a time, I need not name,
Since it will ne’er forgotten be,
When all our feelings were the same
As still my soul hath been to thee.
And from that hour when first thy tongue
Confess’d a love which equall’d mine,
Though many a grief my heart hath wrung,
Unknown, and thus unfelt, by thine,
None, none hath sunk so deep as this——
To think how all that love hath flown;
Transient as every faithless kiss,
But transient in thy breast alone.
And yet my heart some solace knew,
When late I heard thy lips declare,
In accents once imagined true,
Remembrance of the days that were.
Yes! my adored, yet most unkind!
Though thou wilt never love again,
To me ‘tis doubly sweet to find
Remembrance of that love remain.
Yes! ’tis a glorious thought to me,
Nor longer shall my soul repine,
Whate’er thou art or e’er shalt be,
Thou hast been dearly, solely mine.
Autres oeuvres par Lord Byron...
Answer to Some Elegant Verses Sent by a Friend to the Author, Complaining That One of His Descriptions Was Rather Too Warmly Drawn
‘But if any old lady, knight, prie
Should condemn me for printing a s
If good Madam Squintum my work sh
May I venture to give her a smack
CANDOUR compels me, BECHER!