To Caroline

Think'st thou I saw thy beauteous eyes,
Suffus'd in tears, implore to stay;
And heard _unmov'd_ thy plenteous sighs,
Which said far more than words can say?
Though keen the grief _thy_ tears exprest,
When love and hope lay _both_ o'erthrown;
Yet still, my girl, _this_ bleeding breast
Throbb'd, with deep sorrow, as _thine own_.
But, when our cheeks with anguish glow'd,
When _thy_ sweet lips were join'd to mine;
The tears that from _my_ eyelids flow'd
Were lost in those which fell from _thine_.
Thou could'st not feel my burning cheek,
_Thy_ gushing tears had quench'd its flame,
And, as thy tongue essay'd to speak,
In _sighs alone_ it breath'd my name.
And yet, my girl, we weep in vain,
In vain our fate in sighs deplore;
Remembrance only can remain,
But _that_, will make us weep the more.
Again, thou best belov'd, adieu!
Ah! if thou canst, o'ercome regret,
Nor let thy mind past joys review,
Our only _hope_ is, to _forget_!

About George Gordon, Lord Byron

Leading figure of the Romantic movement, celebrated for Don Juan and Childe Harold's Pilgrimage.

More poems by George Gordon, Lord Byron

View all George Gordon, Lord Byron poems →

More Love & Romance poems

View all Love & Romance poems →