George Gordon Noel Byron

But owned that smile, if oft observed and near,
Waned in its mirth, and wither'd to a sneer.

But owned that smile, if oft observed and near,
Waned in its mirth, and wither'd to a sneer.

A lovely being, scarcely formed or moulded,
A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded.

A lovely being, scarcely formed or moulded,
A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded.

Such parting break the heart they fondly hope to heal.

Such parting break the heart they fondly hope to heal.

And I have loved them, Ocean! and my joy
Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be
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And I have loved them, Ocean! and my joy
Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be
Borne, like shy bubbles, onward; from a boy
I wanton'd with thy breakers.
. . . .
And laid my hand upon thy mane--as I do here.

Yet how much less it were to gain,
Though thou hast left me free,
The loveliest things read more

Yet how much less it were to gain,
Though thou hast left me free,
The loveliest things that still remain,
Than thus remember thee.