The Works of Lord Byron - LightNovelsOnl.com
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My Thyrza's pledge in better days,[ap]
When Love and Life alike were new!
How different now thou meet'st my gaze!
How tinged by time with Sorrow's hue!
The heart that gave itself with thee Is silent--ah, were mine as still!
Though cold as e'en the dead can be, It feels, it sickens with the chill.
7.
Thou bitter pledge! thou mournful token!
Though painful, welcome to my breast!
Still, still, preserve that love unbroken, Or break the heart to which thou'rt pressed.
Time tempers Love, but not removes, More hallowed when its Hope is fled: Oh! what are thousand living loves To that which cannot quit the dead?
[First published, _Childe Harold,_ 1812 (4to).]
EUTHANASIA.
1.
When Time, or soon or late, shall bring The dreamless sleep that lulls the dead, Oblivion! may thy languid wing Wave gently o'er my dying bed!
2.
No band of friends or heirs be there,[33]
To weep, or wish, the coming blow: No maiden, with dishevelled hair, To feel, or feign, decorous woe.
3.
But silent let me sink to Earth, With no officious mourners near: I would not mar one hour of mirth, Nor startle Friends.h.i.+p with a fear.
4.
Yet Love, if Love in such an hour Could n.o.bly check its useless sighs, Might then exert its latest power In her who lives, and him who dies.
5.
'Twere sweet, my Psyche! to the last Thy features still serene to see: Forgetful of its struggles past, E'en Pain itself should smile on thee.
6.
But vain the wish--for Beauty still Will shrink, as shrinks the ebbing breath; And Woman's tears, produced at will, Deceive in life, unman in death.
7.
Then lonely be my latest hour, Without regret, without a groan; For thousands Death hath ceased to lower, And pain been transient or unknown.
8.
"Aye but to die, and go," alas!
Where all have gone, and all must go!
To be the nothing that I was Ere born to life and living woe!
9.
Count o'er the joys thine hours have seen, Count o'er thy days from anguish free, And know, whatever thou hast been, 'Tis something better not to be.
[First published, _Childe Harold_, 1812 (Second Edition).]
AND THOU ART DEAD, AS YOUNG AND FAIR.[aq]
"Heu, quanto minus est c.u.m reliquis versari quam tui meminisse!"[34]
1.
And thou art dead, as young and fair As aught of mortal birth; And form so soft, and charms so rare, Too soon returned to Earth![ar]
Though Earth received them in her bed, And o'er the spot the crowd may tread[as]
In carelessness or mirth, There is an eye which could not brook A moment on that grave to look.
2.
I will not ask where thou liest low,[at]
Nor gaze upon the spot; There flowers or weeds at will may grow, So I behold them not:[au]
It is enough for me to prove That what I loved, and long must love, Like common earth can rot;[av]
To me there needs no stone to tell, 'Tis Nothing that I loved so well[aw]
3.
Yet did I love thee to the last As fervently as thou,[ax]
Who didst not change through all the past, And canst not alter now.
The love where Death has set his seal, Nor age can chill, nor rival steal,[ay]
Nor falsehood disavow:[az]
And, what were worse, thou canst not see[ba]
Or wrong, or change, or fault in me.[bb]
4.
The better days of life were ours; The worst can be but mine: The sun that cheers, the storm that lowers,[bc]
Shall never more be thine.
The silence of that dreamless sleep[bd]
I envy now too much to weep; Nor need I to repine, That all those charms have pa.s.sed away I might have watched through long decay.
5.
The flower in ripened bloom unmatched Must fall the earliest prey;[be]
Though by no hand untimely s.n.a.t.c.hed, The leaves must drop away: And yet it were a greater grief To watch it withering, leaf by leaf, Than see it plucked to-day; Since earthly eye but ill can bear To trace the change to foul from fair.
