Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/199

Rh By gloomy Night and thy right hand I vow,

Her parting tears would shake my purpose now;

Do thou, my prince, her failing age sustain,

In thee her much-lov'd child may live again;

Her dying hours with pious conduct bless,

Assist her wants, relieve her fond distress:

So dear a hope must all my soul enflame,

To rise in glory, or to fall in fame."

Struck with a filial care so deeply felt,

In tears at once the Trojan warriors melt;

Faster than all, Iulus' eyes o'erflow!

Such love was his, and such had been his woe.

"All thou hast ask'd, receive," the Prince replied;

"Nor this alone, but many a gift beside.

To cheer thy mother's years shall be my aim

Creusa's style but wanting to the dame;

Fortune an adverse wayward course may run,

But bless'd thy mother in so dear a son.

Now, by my life!—my Sire's most sacred oath—

To thee I pledge my full, my firmest troth,

All the rewards which once to thee were vow'd,

If thou should'st fall, on her shall be bestow'd."

Thus spoke the weeping Prince, then forth to view

A gleaming falchion from the sheath he drew;