When Man, expell’d from Eden’s bowers,
A moment linger’d near the gate,
Each scene recall’d the vanish’d hours,
And bade him curse his future fate.
But, wandering on through distant climes,
He learnt to bear his load of grief;
Just gave a sigh to other times,
And found in busier scenes relief.
Thus, lady! will it be with me,
And I must view thy charms no more;
For, while I linger near to thee,
I sigh for ail I knew before.
In flight I shall be surely wise,
Escaping from temptation’s snare;
I cannot view my paradise
Without the wish of dwelling there.
December 2, 1808
Autres oeuvres par Lord Byron...
To a Lady Who Presented to the Author a Lock of Hair Braided With His Own, and Appointed a Night in December to Meet Him in the Garden
These locks, which fondly thus ent
In firmer chains our hearts confin
Than all th’ unmeaning protestatio
Which swell with nonsense, love or
Our love is fix’d, I think we’ve