Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/115

Rh And softly fluttering here and there,

He never sought to cleave the air,

He chirrup'd oft, and, free from care,

Tun'd to her ear his grateful strain.

Now having pass'd the gloomy bourn,

From whence he never can return,

His death, and Lesbia's grief I mourn,

Who sighs, alas! but sighs in vain.

Oh! curst be thou, devouring grave!

Whose jaws eternal victims crave,

From whom no earthly power can save,

For thou hast ta'en the bird away:

From thee my Lesbia's eyes o'erflow,

Her swollen cheeks with weeping glow;

Thou art the cause of all her woe,

Receptacle of life's decay.

IMITATED FROM CATULLUS.

TO ELLEN.

! might I kiss those eyes of fire,

A million scarce would quench desire;