[ STANZAS]
Could Love for ever Run like a river, And Time’s endeavour Be tried in vain— No other pleasure With this could measure; And like a treasure We’d hug the chain. But since our sighing Ends not in dying, And, form’d for flying, Love plumes his wing; Then for this reason Let’s love a season; But let that season be only Spring.
When lovers parted Feel broken-hearted, And, all hopes thwarted Expect to die; A few years older, Ah! how much colder They might behold her For whom they sigh!
Lord Byron.
[ A SEA DIRGE]
Full fathom five thy father lies: Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell; Hark! now I hear them— Ding, Dong, Bell.