George Gordon Byron

Stanzas to a Lady, with the Poems of Camoëns


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.


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?


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.


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.

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