Another Reply to “Fare Thee Well.”
Fare thee well, and if for ever,
Then for ever let it be;
For again, false Byron, never
Canst thou be beloved by me.
If thy breast were bared before me,
What a cruel heart ’twould show;
False to her who did adore thee—
Cold as Russia’s wastes of snow.
’Twas not I who rent asunder