And softly fluttering here and there,
He never sought to cleave the air,
He chirrup'd oft, and, free from care,'
Tun'd to her ear his grateful strain.
Now having pass'd the gloomy bourn,"
From whence he never can return,
His death, and Lesbia's grief I mourn,
Who sighs, alas! but sighs in vain.

Oh! curst be thou, devouring grave!
Whose jaws eternal victims crave,
From whom no earthly power can save,
For thou hast ta'en the bird away :
From thee my Lesbia's eyes o'erflow,
Her swollen cheeks with weeping glow;
Thou art the cause of all her woe,
Receptacle of life's decay.

IMITATED FROM CATULLUS.1

TO ELLEN.iii.

OH! might I kiss those eyes of fire,

A million scarce would quench desire:

i. But chirrup'd.~[4to]

ii. But now he's pass'd.-[4to]

iii. To Anna.-[4to]

1. [From a note in Byron's copy of Catullus (now in the possession of Mr. Murray), it is evident that these lines are based on Carm. xlviii., Mellitos oculos tuos, Juventi.]

Still would I steep my lips in bliss,
And dwell an age on every kiss;
Nor then my soul should sated be,
Still would I kiss and cling to thee :
Nought should my kiss from thine dissever,
Still would we kiss and kiss for ever;
E'en though the numbers did exceed1
The yellow harvest's countless seed;
To part would be a vain endeavour:
Could I desist ?-ah! never-never.

TO M. S. G.

November 16, 1806.

I.

WHENE'ER I view those lips of thine,

Their hue invites my fervent kiss ;

Yet, I forego that bliss divine,

Alas! it were-unhallow'd bliss.

2.

Whene'er I dream of that pure breast,
How could I dwell upon its snows!

Yet, is the daring wish represt,

For that, would banish its repose.

i. E'en though the number.—[4to. Three first Editions.]

3.

A glance from thy soul-searching eye

Can raise with hope, depress with fear; Yet, I conceal my love,-and why?

I would not force a painful tear.

4.

I ne'er have told my love, yet thou
Hast seen my ardent flame too well;
And shall I plead my passion now,

To make thy bosom's heaven a hell?

5.

No! for thou never canst be mine,
United by the priest's decree :

By any ties but those divine,

Mine, my belov'd, thou ne'er shalt be."

6.

Then let the secret fire consume,

Let it consume, thou shalt not know :

With joy I court a certain doom,

Rather than spread its guilty glow.

7.

I will not ease my tortur'd heart,

By driving dove-ey'd peace from thine;

Rather than such a sting impart,

Each thought presumptuous I resign.

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. GJ

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.

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