The Works of Lord Byron Volume I Part 17

Though souls are denied you by fools and by rakes, Should you own it yourselves, I would even then doubt you, Your nature so much of _celestial_ partakes, The Garden of Eden would wither without you.

Southwell, _October_ 9, 1806.

[Footnote 1: The letters "E. B. P." are added, in a lady's hand, in the annotated copy of _P. on V. Occasions_, p. 26 (_British Museum_). The initials stand for Miss Elizabeth Pigot.]

[Footnote 2: Stanzas 5-10, which appear in the Quarto, were never reprinted.]

[Footnote i:

_To Miss E. P._ [4to]

_To Miss_---. [_P. on V. Occasions._]]

[Footnote ii:

_Did they know but yourself they would bend with respect, And this doctrine must meet_---.

[_MS. Newstead_.]]

[Footnote iii: _But an atom of sense_. [4to]]

[Footnote iv: _But instead of his_ Houris. [4to]]

[Footnote v: _But still to increase_. [4to]]

[Footnote vi: _He allots but one husband. [4to]]

[Footnote vii: _But I can't---._ [4to]]

THE TEAR.

O lachrymarum fons, tenero sacros Ducentium ortus ex animo; quater Felix! in imo qui scatentem Pectore te, pia Nympha, sensit. [1]

GRAY, 'Alcaic Fragment'.

1.

When Friendship or Love Our sympathies move; When Truth, in a glance, should appear, The lips may beguile, With a dimple or smile, But the test of affection's a _Tear_.

2.

Too oft is a smile But the hypocrite's wile, To mask detestation, or fear; Give me the soft sigh, Whilst the soul-telling eye Is dimm'd, for a time, with a _Tear_.

3.

Mild Charity's glow, To us mortals below, Shows the soul from barbarity clear; Compa.s.sion will melt, Where this virtue is felt, And its dew is diffused in a _Tear_.

4.

The man, doom'd to sail With the blast of the gale, Through billows Atlantic to steer, As he bends o'er the wave Which may soon be his grave, The green sparkles bright with a _Tear_.

5.

The Soldier braves death For a fanciful wreath In Glory's romantic career; But he raises the foe When in battle laid low, And bathes every wound with a _Tear_.

6.

If, with high-bounding pride,[i]

He return to his bride!

Renouncing the gore-crimson'd spear; All his toils are repaid When, embracing the maid, From her eyelid he kisses the _Tear_.

7.

Sweet scene of my youth! [2]

Seat of Friendship and Truth, Where Love chas'd each fast-fleeting year; Loth to leave thee, I mourn'd, For a last look I turn'd, But thy spire was scarce seen through a _Tear_.

8.

Though my vows I can pour, To my Mary no more, [3]

My Mary, to Love once so dear, In the shade of her bow'r, I remember the hour, She rewarded those vows with a _Tear_.

9.

By another possest, May she live ever blest!