Lord Byron: My Winsome Angel!

When we two parted in silence and tears half broken-hearted to sever for years, pale grew thy cheek and cold, colder thy kiss; truly that hour foretold sorrow to this. The dew of the morning sunk chill on my brow ~ it felt like the warning of what I feel now. The vows are all broken, and light is thy fame; I hear thy name spoken and share in its shame 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.