8.

Yes! yield those lips, for which I'd brave
More than I here shall dare to tell;
Thy innocence and mine to save,—

I bid thee now a last farewell.

9.

Yes! yield that breast, to seek despair

And hope no more thy soft embrace;
Which to obtain, my soul would dare,
All, all reproach, but thy disgrace.

10.

At least from guilt shalt thou be free,
No matron shall thy shame reprove;
Though cureless pangs may prey on me,
No martyr shalt thou be to love.

STANZAS TO A LADY, WITH THE POEMS OF CAMOËNS.1

I.

THIS Votive pledge of fond esteem,

Perhaps, dear girl! for me thou❜lt prize;
It sings of Love's enchanting dream,

A theme we never can despise.

1. [Lord Strangford's Poems from the Portuguese by Luis de Camoëns and "Little's" Poems are mentioned by Moore as having been Byron's favourite study at this time (Life, p. 39).]

2.

Who blames it but the envious fool,

The old and disappointed maid?
Or pupil of the prudish school,

In single sorrow doom'd to fade ?

3.

Then read, dear Girl! with feeling read,
For thou wilt ne'er be one of those;
To thee, in vain, I shall not plead

In pity for the Poet's woes.

4.

He was, in sooth, a genuine Bard;

His was no faint, fictitious flame :
Like his, may Love be thy reward,

But not thy hapless fate the same.

TO M. S. G.1

I.

WHEN I dream that you love me, you'll surely forgive; Extend not your anger to sleep;

For in visions alone your affection can live,—

I rise, and it leaves me to weep.

I. ["G. G. B. to E. P."-MS. Newstead.]

2.

Then, Morpheus! envelop my faculties fast,

Shed o'er me your languor benign;

Should the dream of to-night but resemble the last,

What rapture celestial is mine!

3.

They tell us that slumber, the sister of death,

Mortality's emblem is given;

To fate how I long to resign my frail breath,

If this be a foretaste of Heaven!

4.

Ah! frown not, sweet Lady, unbend your soft brow,

Nor deem me too happy in this;

If I sin in my dream, I atone for it now,

Thus doom'd, but to gaze upon bliss.

5.

Though in visions, sweet Lady, perhaps you may smile,

Oh! think not my penance deficient !

When dreams of your presence my slumbers beguile, To awake, will be torture sufficient.

TRANSLATION FROM HORACE.

[Justum et tenacem propositi virum.

HOR. Odes, iii. 3. 1.]

I.

THE man of firm and noble soul
No factious clamours can controul;
No threat'ning tyrant's darkling brow

Can swerve him from his just intent :
Gales the warring waves which plough,
By Auster on the billows spent,

To curb the Adriatic main,

Would awe his fix'd determined mind in vain.

2.

Aye, and the red right arm of Jove,
Hurtling his lightnings from above,
With all his terrors there unfurl'd,
He would, unmov'd, unaw'd, behold;
The flames of an expiring world,
Again in crashing chaos roll'd,

In vast promiscuous ruin hurl'd,
Might light his glorious funeral pile :

Still dauntless 'midst the wreck of earth he'd smile.

VOL. I.

G

THE FIRST KISS OF LOVE.

Α βάρβιτος δὲ χορδαῖς

Ερωτα μοῦνον ἠχεῖ.

ANACREON [Ode 1].

I.

AWAY with your fictions of flimsy romance,
Those tissues of falsehood which Folly has wove; i.
Give me the mild beam of the soul-breathing glance,
Or the rapture which dwells on the first kiss of love.

2.

Ye rhymers, whose bosoms with fantasy glow,.

Whose pastoral passions are made for the grove ; From what blest inspiration your sonnets would flow,iii. Could you ever have tasted the first kiss of love.

3.

If Apollo should e'er his assistance refuse,

Or the Nine be dispos'd from your service to rove, Invoke them no more, bid adieu to the Muse,

And try the effect, of the first kiss of love.

i. Moriah those air dreams and types has o'er wove.—

[MS. Newstead.] Those tissues of fancy Moriah has wove.—[P. on V. Occasions.] ii. Ye rhymers, who sing as if seated on snow.

[P. on V. Occasions.] iii. With what blest inspiration.-[MS. P. on V. Occasions.]

1. [The motto was prefixed in Hours of Idleness.] 2. Moriah is the "Goddess of Folly."