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 | The magic fountain |  |
'Tis said that stars have fallen, yet have left
No tell-tale blank i' th' blue sky—stars remote,
Whose light till then had never reached the eye,
Filling the gap to vision. But not so
Hast thou descended from the heaven of song—
Thou wast a star of wildest and most marked
Effulgence, and thy fall hath left a blank,
A lonely and a mournful blank, which none—
No—none shall ever fill again!
No tell-tale blank i' th' blue sky—stars remote,
Whose light till then had never reached the eye,
Filling the gap to vision. But not so
Hast thou descended from the heaven of song—
Thou wast a star of wildest and most marked
Effulgence, and thy fall hath left a blank,
A lonely and a mournful blank, which none—
No—none shall ever fill again!
O Byron!
How much of admiration and of hope,
Of worship deep from hearts thy strains have touched,
Of grief from those who watched thy wanderings
And wept them—hath been centred in that name!
How much of admiration and of hope,
Of worship deep from hearts thy strains have touched,
Of grief from those who watched thy wanderings
And wept them—hath been centred in that name!
| The magic fountain | |