Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/273

Rh 6.

And Youth is sure the only time,

When Pleasure blends no base alloy;

When Life is blest without a crime,

And Innocence resides with Joy.

7.

Let those reprove my feeble Soul,

Who laugh to scorn Affection's name;

While these impose a harsh controul,

All will forgive who feel the same.

8.

Then still I wear my simple toy,

With pious care from wreck I'll save it;

And this will form a dear employ

For dear I was to him who gave it. ? 1806.

[A WOMAN'S HAIR. ]

! little lock of golden hue

In gently waving ringlet curl'd,

By the dear head on which you grew,

I would not lose you for a world.