The works of Lord Byron A new, revised and enlarged edition, with illustrations. Edited by Ernest Hartley Coleridge and R. E. Prothero |
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TRANSLATION OF A ROMAIC LOVE SONG. |
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 | The works of Lord Byron |  |
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TRANSLATION OF A ROMAIC LOVE SONG.
1
Ah! Love was never yet withoutThe pang, the agony, the doubt,
Which rends my heart with ceaseless sigh,
While day and night roll darkling by.
2
Without one friend to hear my woe,I faint, I die beneath the blow.
That Love had arrows, well I knew,
Alas! I find them poisoned too.
3
Birds, yet in freedom, shun the netWhich Love around your haunts hath set;
Or, circled by his fatal fire,
Your hearts shall burn, your hopes expire.
4
A bird of free and careless wingWas I, through many a smiling spring;
But caught within the subtle snare,
I burn, and feebly flutter there.
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Who ne'er have loved, and loved in vain,Can neither feel nor pity pain,
The cold repulse, the look askance,
The lightning of Love's angry glance.
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In flattering dreams I deemed thee mine;Now hope, and he who hoped, decline;
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I feel my passion, and thy power.
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My light of Life! ah, tell me whyThat pouting lip, and altered eye?
My bird of Love! my beauteous mate!
And art thou changed, and canst thou hate?
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Mine eyes like wintry streams o'erflow:What wretch with me would barter woe?
My bird! relent: one note could give
A charm to bid thy lover live.
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My curdling blood, my madd'ning brain,In silent anguish I sustain;
And still thy heart, without partaking
One pang, exults—while mine is breaking.
10
Pour me the poison; fear not thou!Thou canst not murder more than now:
I've lived to curse my natal day,
And Love, that thus can lingering slay.
11
My wounded soul, my bleeding breast,Can patience preach thee into rest?
Alas! too late, I dearly know
That Joy is harbinger of Woe.
| The works of Lord Byron | |