The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero)/Poetry/Volume 3/Lines written on a Blank Leaf of The Pleasures of Memory
LINES WRITTEN ON A BLANK LEAF OF THE PLEASURES OF MEMORY.
Absent or present, still to thee,
My friend, what magic spells belong!
As all can tell, who share, like me,
In turn thy converse, and thy song.
But when the dreaded hour shall come
By Friendship ever deemed too nigh,
And "Memory" o'er her Druid's tomb
Shall weep that aught of thee can die,
How fondly will she then repay
Thy homage offered at her shrine,
And blend, while ages roll away,
Her name immortally with thine!
April 19, 1812.
[First published, Poems, 1816.]
- To Samuel Rogers, Esq.—[Poems, 1816.]
- ["Rogers is silent,—and, it is said, severe. When he does talk, he talks well; and, on all subjects of taste, his delicacy of expression is pure as his poetry. If you enter his house—his drawing-room—his library—you of yourself say, this is not the dwelling of a common mind. There is not a gem, a coin, a book thrown aside on his chimney-piece, his sofa, his table, that does not bespeak an almost fastidious elegance in the possessor."—Diary, 1813; Letters, 1898, ii. 331.]
- [Compare Collins' Ode on the Death of Mr. Thomson—
"In yonder grave a Druid lies."]