Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/115

And softly fluttering here and there,
He never sought to cleave the air,
He chirrup'd oft, and, free from care,^[1]
⁠Tun'd to her ear his grateful strain.
Now having pass'd the gloomy bourn,^[2]
From whence he never can return,
His death, and Lesbia's grief I mourn,
⁠Who sighs, alas! but sighs in vain.

Oh! curst be thou, devouring grave!
Whose jaws eternal victims crave,
From whom no earthly power can save,
⁠For thou hast ta'en the bird away:
From thee my Lesbia's eyes o'erflow,
Her swollen cheeks with weeping glow;
Thou art the cause of all her woe,
⁠Receptacle of life's decay.

IMITATED FROM CATULLUS.^[3]

TO ELLEN.^[4]

Oh! might I kiss those eyes of fire,

A million scarce would quench desire;

1. But chirrup'd.—[4to]
2. But now he's pass'd.—[4to]
3. [From a note in Byron's copy of Catullus (now in the possession of Mr. Murray), it is evident that these lines are based on Carm. xlviii., Mellitos oculos tuos, Juventi.]
4. To Anna.—[4to]