The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero)/Poetry/Volume 1/To D——

by George Gordon Byron

TO D——^[1]

1.

In thee, I fondly hop'd to clasp
⁠A friend, whom death alone could sever;
Till envy, with malignant grasp,^[2]
⁠Detach'd thee from my breast for ever.

2.

True, she has forc'd thee from my breast,
⁠Yet, in my heart thou keep'st thy seat;^[3]
There, there, thine image still must rest,
⁠Until that heart shall cease to beat.

3.

And, when the grave restores her dead,
⁠When life again to dust is given,
On thy dear breast I'll lay my head—
⁠Without thee! where would be my Heaven?

February, 1803.

1. [George John, 5th Earl Delawarr (1791-1869). (See note 2, p. 100; see also lines "To George, Earl Delawarr," pp. 126-128.)]
2. But envy with malignant grasp,
   ⁠Has torn thee from my breast for ever.—[410]
3. But in my heart.—[410]