LORD BYRON

Thy vows are all broken, And light is thy fames

I hear thy name spoken, And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,

A knell to mine ear; A shudder comes o'er me

Why wert thou so dear ? They know not I knew thee,

Who knew thee too well : Long, long shall I rue thee,

Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met

In silence I grieve, That thy heart could forget,

Thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee

After long years, How should I greet thee?

With silence and tears.

��For Music

HTHERE be none of Beauty's daughters -* With a magic like thee; And like music on the waters

Is thy sweet voice to me: When, as if its sound were causing The charmed ocean's pausing, The waves lie still and gleaming, And the lull'd winds seem dreaming:

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