George Gordon Byron ( )

Lines, On Hearing That Lady Byron Was Ill

And thou wert sadyet I was not with thee!
And thou wert sick, and yet I was not near;
Methought that joy and health alone could be
Where I was notand pain and sorrow here.
And is it thus?it is as I foretold,
And shall be more so; for the mind recoils
Upon itself, and the wrecked heart lies cold,
While heaviness collects the shattered spoils.
It is not in the storm nor in the strife
We feel benumbed, and wish to be no more,
But in the after-silence on the shore,
When all is lost, except a little life.

I am too well avenged!but twas my right;
Whateer my sins might be, thou wert not sent
To be the Nemesis who should requite
Nor did heaven choose so near an instrument.
Mercy is for the merciful!if thou
Hast been of such, twill be accorded now.
Thy nights are banished from the realms of sleep!
Yes! they may flatter thee, but thou shalt feel
A hollow agony which will not heal,
For thou art pillowed on a curse too deep;
Thou hast sown in my sorrow, and must reap
The bitter harvest in a woe as real!
I have had many foes, but none like thee;
For gainst the rest myself I could defend,
And be avenged, or turn them into friend;
But thou in safe implacability
Hadst nought to dreadin thy own weakness shielded,
And in my love which hath but too much yielded,
And spared, for thy sake, some I should not spare
And thus upon the worldtrust in thy truth
And the wild fame of my ungoverned youth
On things that were not, and on things that are
Even upon such a basis hast thou built
A monument whose cement hath been guilt!
The moral Clytemnestra of thy lord,
And hewed down, with an unsuspected sword,
Fame, peace, and hopeand all the better life
Which, but for this cold treason of thy heart,
Might still have risen from out the grave of strife,
And found a nobler duty than to part.
But of thy virtues didst thou make a vice,
Trafficking with them in a purpose cold,
For present anger, and for future gold
And buying others grief at any price.
And thus once entered into crooked ways,
The early truth, which was thy proper praise,
Did not still walk beside theebut at times,
And with a breast unknowing its own crimes,
Deceit, averments incompatible,
Equivocations, and the thoughts which dwell
In Janus-spiritsthe significant eye
Which learns to lie with silencethe pretext
Of Prudence, with advantages annexed
The acquiescence in all things which tend,
No matter how, to the desired end
All found a place in thy philosophy.
The means were worthy, and the end is won
I would not do by thee as thou hast done!

George Gordon Byron's other poems:
  1. To a Lady who Presented to the Author a Lock of Hair Braided with his own, and appointed a Night in December to meet him in the Garden
  2. Lines Addressed to a Young Lady
  3. On the Eyes of Miss A H
  4. To Anne (Oh say not, sweet Anne, that the Fates have decreed)
  5. To a Youthful Friend

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