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Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 4.djvu/592

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POEMS 1816-1823.


When lovers parted
Feel broken-hearted,
And, all hopes thwarted,
Expect to die;
A few years older,
Ah! how much colder
They might behold her
For whom they sigh!
When linked together,
In every weather,[1]
They pluck Love's feather
From out his wing—
He'll stay for ever,[2]
But sadly shiver
Without his plumage, when past the Spring.[3]


Like Chiefs of Faction,
His life is action—
A formal paction
That curbs his reign,
Obscures his glory,
Despot no more, he
Such territory
Quits with disdain.
Still, still advancing,
With banners glancing,
His power enhancing,
He must move on—
Repose but cloys him,
Retreat destroys him,
Love brooks not a degraded throne.

  1. Through every weather
    We pluck.—[MS. G.]

  2. He'll sadly shiver
    And droop for ever,
    Shorn of the plumage which sped his spring.—[MS. G.]

  3. —— that sped his Spring.—[MS. G.]