The 'Origin of Love!'--Ah why
That cruel question ask of me,
When thou may'st read in many an eye
He starts to life on seeing thee?
And should'st thou seek his end to know:
My heart forebodes, my fears foresee
He'll linger long in silent woe;
But live--until I cease to be.
More verses by George Gordon Byron
- To Caroline: When I Hear That You Express An Affection So Warm
- To A Beautiful Quaker
- To A Youthful Friend
- When Coldness Wraps This Suffering Clay
- Stanzas To A Lady, On Leaving England