Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/53

Rh 5.

O'er fields through which we us'd to run,

And spend the hours in childish play;

O'er shades where, when our race was done,

Reposing on my breast you lay;

6.

Whilst I, admiring, too remiss,

Forgot to scare the hovering flies,

Yet envied every fly the kiss,

It dar'd to give your slumbering eyes:

7.

See still the little painted bark,

In which I row'd you o'er the lake;

See there, high waving o'er the park,

The elm I clamber'd for your sake.

8.

These times are past, our joys are gone,

You leave me, leave this happy vale;

These scenes, I must retrace alone;

Without thee, what will they avail?

9.

Who can conceive, who has not prov'd,

The anguish of a last embrace?

When, torn from all you fondly lov'd,

You bid a long adieu to peace.