October 8, 2009

• On Parting

  A little Lord Byron, one of my favourite poems of all time:
  

  
  

  The kiss, dear maid ! thy lip has left

  Shall never part from mine,

  Till happier hours restore the gift

  Untainted back to thine.
   

  Thy parting glance, which fondly beams,

  An equal love may see:

  The tear that from thine eyelid streams

  Can weep no change in me.
   

  I ask no pledge to make me blest

  In gazing when alone;

  Nor one memorial for a breast,

  Whose thoughts are all thine own.
   

  Nor need I write — to tell the tale

  My pen were doubly weak:

  Oh ! what can idle words avail,

  Unless the heart could speak ?
   

  By day or night, in weal or woe,

  That heart, no longer free,

  Must bear the love it cannot show,

  And silent ache for thee.
   
   

  • 5:45 am
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