I. Written in an Album. 1. As o'er the cold sepulchral stone 2... t And when by thee that name is read, Reflect on me as on the dead, And think my heart is buried here. OH Lady! when I left the shore, he buf The distant shore, which gave me birth, I hardly thought to grieve once more, Where panting Nature droops the head, Where only thou art seen to smile, I view my parting hour with dread. t Though far from Albin's craggy shore, But wheresoe'er I now may roam, All charms which heedless hearts can move, Whom but to see is to admire, And, oh! forgive the word-to love. Forgive the word, in one who ne'er With such a word can more offend; And since thy heart I cannot share, Believe me, what I am, thy friend. And who so cold as look on thee, Thou lovely wand'rer, and be less? Nor be, what man should ever be, The friend of Beauty in distress? Through Danger's most destructive path, Had brav'd the death-wing'd tempest's blast, Lady! when I shall view the walls Where free Byzantium once arose; The Turkish tyrants now enclose; And though I bid thee now farewell, |