The lips may beguile,

With a dimple or smile,

But the test of affection's a Tear.

2.

Too oft is a smile

But the hypocrite's wile,

To mask detestation, or fear

Give me the soft sigh,

Whilst the soul-telling eye

Is dimm'd, for a time, with a Tear.

3.

Mild Charity's glow,

To us mortals below,

Shows the soul from barbarity clear;

Compassion will melt,

Where this virtue is felt,

And its dew is diffused in a Tear.

4.

The man, doom'd to sail
With the blast of the gale,

Through billows Atlantic to steer,

As he bends o'er the wave

Which may soon be his grave,

The green sparkles bright with a Tear.

5.

The Soldier braves death

For a fanciful wreath

In Glory's romantic career;

But he raises the foe

When in battle laid low,

And bathes every wound with a Tear.

6.

If, with high-bounding pride,'
He return to his bride!

Renouncing the gore-crimson'd spear;

All his toils are repaid

When, embracing the maid, From her eyelid he kisses the Tear.

7.

Sweet scene of my youth! 1

Seat of Friendship and Truth,
Where Love chas'd each fast-fleeting year;

Loth to leave thee, I mourn'd,

For a last look I turn'd,

But thy spire was scarce seen through a Tear.

i. When with high-bounding pride,

He returns --[4to]

1. [Harrow.]

8.

Though my vows I can pour,

To my Mary no more,1

My Mary, to Love once so dear,
In the shade of her bow'r,

I remember the hour,

She rewarded those vows with a Tear.

9.

By another possest,

May she live ever blest!

Her name still my heart must revere:
With a sigh I resign,

What I once thought was mine,
And forgive her deceit with a Tear.

10.

Ye friends of my heart,

Ere from you I depart,

This hope to my breast is most near:

If again we shall meet,

In this rural retreat,

May we meet, as we part, with a Tear.

II.

When my soul wings her flight

To the regions of night,

And my corse shall recline on its bier;"

1. And my body shall sleep on its bier.-[4to. P. on V. Occasions.] 1. [Miss Chaworth was married in 1805.]

As ye pass by the tomb,

Where my ashes consume,

Oh! moisten their dust with a Tear.

12.

May no marble bestow

The splendour of woe,

Which the children of Vanity rear;

No fiction of fame

Shall blazon my name,

All I ask, all I wish, is a Tear.

October 26, 1806.1

REPLY TO SOME VERSES OF J. M. B. PIGOT, ESQ., ON THE CRUELTY OF HIS MISTRESS.1

I.

WHY, Pigot, complain

Of this damsel's disdain,

Why thus in despair do you fret?

For months you may try,

Yet, believe me, a sigh i

Will never obtain a coquette.

i. BYRON, October 26, 1806.—[4to]

ii. But believe me.-[4to]

1. [The letters" C. B. F. J. B. M." are added, in a lady's hand, in the annotated copy of P. on V. Occasions, p. 14 (British Museum).]

2.

Would you teach her to love?

For a time seem to rove; At first she may frown in a pet;

But leave her awhile,

She shortly will smile,

And then you may kiss your coquette.

1

ii Nor seem.~[4to. P. on V. Occasions.]