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Her name still my heart must revere: With a sigh I resign, What I once thought was mine, And forgive her deceit with a _Tear_.
10.
Ye friends of my heart, Ere from you I depart, This hope to my breast is most near: If again we shall meet, In this rural retreat, May we _meet_, as we _part_, with a _Tear_.
11.
When my soul wings her flight To the regions of night, And my corse shall recline on its bier; [ii]
As ye pa.s.s by the tomb, Where my ashes consume, Oh! moisten their dust with a _Tear_.
12.
May no marble bestow The splendour of woe, Which the children of Vanity rear; No fiction of fame Shall blazon my name, All I ask, all I wish, is a _Tear_.
October 26, 1806. [iii]
[Footnote 1: The motto was prefixed in 'Hours of Idleness'.]
[Footnote 2: Harrow.]
[Footnote 3: Miss Chaworth was married in 1805.]
[Footnote i:
_When with high-bounding pride, He returns_----.
[4to]]
[Footnote ii:
_And my body shall sleep on its bier_.
[4to. _P. on V. Occasions_.]]
[Footnote iii:
BYRON, October 26, 1806.
[4to]]
REPLY TO SOME VERSES OF J. M. B. PIGOT, ESQ., ON THE CRUELTY OF HIS MISTRESS. [1]
1.
Why, Pigot, complain Of this damsel's disdain, Why thus in despair do you fret?
For months you may try, Yet, believe me, a _sigh_ [i]
Will never obtain a _coquette_.
2.
Would you teach her to love?
For a time seem to rove; At first she may _frown_ in a _pet;_ But leave her awhile, She shortly will smile, And then you may _kiss_ your _coquette_.
3.
For such are the airs Of these fanciful fairs, They think all our _homage_ a _debt_: Yet a partial neglect [ii]
Soon takes an effect, And humbles the proudest _coquette_.
4.
Dissemble your pain, And lengthen your chain, And seem her _hauteur_ to _regret;_ [iii]
If again you shall sigh, She no more will deny, That _yours_ is the rosy _coquette_.
5.
If still, from false pride, [iv]
Your pangs she deride, This whimsical virgin forget; Some _other_ admire, Who will _melt_ with your _fire_, And laugh at the _little coquette_.
6.
For _me_, I adore Some _twenty_ or more, And love them most dearly; but yet, Though my heart they enthral, I'd abandon them all, Did they act like your blooming _coquette_.
7.
No longer repine, Adopt this design, [v]
And break through her slight-woven net!
Away with despair, No longer forbear To fly from the captious _coquette_.
