Sunday, September 21, 2008

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.

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