George Gordon Noel Byron

The nympholepsy of some fond despair.

The nympholepsy of some fond despair.

What gem hath dropp'd, and sparkles o'er his chain?
The tear most sacred, shed for other's pain,
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What gem hath dropp'd, and sparkles o'er his chain?
The tear most sacred, shed for other's pain,
That starts at once--bright pure--from Pity's mine,
Already polish'd by the hand divine!

What is the worst of woes that wait on age?
What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow?
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What is the worst of woes that wait on age?
What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow?
To view each love one blotted from life's page,
And be alone on earth as I am now.

And if I laugh at any mortal thing,
'Tis that I may not weep.

And if I laugh at any mortal thing,
'Tis that I may not weep.

Friendship is Love without his wings!

Friendship is Love without his wings!