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The sculptor's art exhausts the pomp of wo,
Newstead Abbey, Oct. 30, 1808.
FAREWELL! if ever fondest prayer
For other's weal avail'd on high, Mine will not all be lost in air,
But waft thy name beyond the sky. "Twere vain to speak, to weep, to sigh:
Oh! more than tears of blood can tell, When wrung from guilt's expiring eye, Are in that word-Farewell!-Farewell!
These lips are mute, these eyes are dry;
But in my breast, and in my brain, Awake the
pass not by, The thought that ne'er shall sleep again. My soul nor deigns nor dares complain,
Though grief and passion there rebel; I only know we loved in vain
I only feel-Farewell !-Farewell !
Bright be the place of thy soul !
No lovelier spirit than thine E'er burst from its mortal control,
In the orbs of the blessed to shine.
On earth thou wert all but divine,
As thy soul shall immortally be; And our sorrow may cease to repine,
When we know that thy God is with thee.
Light be the turf of thy tomb!
May its verdure like emeralds be: There should not be the shadow of gloom,
In aught that reminds us of thee. Young flowers and an evergreen tree
May spring from the spot of thy rest: But nor cypress nor yew let us see;
For why should we mourn for the blest?
When we two parted
In silence and tears,
To sever for years,
Colder thy kiss;
Sorrow to this.
STANZAS FOR MUSIC.*
“ O Lachrymarum fons, tenero sacros
THERE's not a joy the world can give like that it takes
away, When the glow of early thought declines in feeling's
dull decay; 'Tis not on youth's smooth cheek the blush alone,
which fades so fast, But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere youth
itself be past.
2. Then the few whose spirits float above the wreck of
happiness, Are driven o'er the shoals of guilt or ocean of excess: magnet of their course is gone, or only points in
vain The shore to which their shiver'd sail shall never
* These Verses were given by Lord Byron to Mr. Power, Strand, who has published them, with very beautiful
music by Sir John