Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/111

Rh 3.

Yes! in that nearly fatal hour,

The ball obey'd some hell-born guide;

But Heaven, with interposing power,

In pity turn'd the death aside.

4.

Yet, as perchance one trembling tear

Upon that thrilling bosom fell;

Which I, th' unconscious cause of fear,

Extracted from its glistening cell;—

5.

Say, what dire penance can atone

For such an outrage, done to thee?

Arraign'd before thy beauty's throne,

What punishment wilt thou decree?

6.

Might I perform the Judge's part,

The sentence I should scarce deplore;

It only would restore a heart,

Which but belong'd to thee before.

7.

The least atonement I can make

Is to become no longer free;

Henceforth, I breathe but for thy sake,

Thou shalt be all in all to me.