Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/76

36 Fox! shall, in Britain's future annals, shine,

Nor e'en to, the patriot's palm resign;

Which Envy, wearing Candour's sacred mask,

For, and alone, has dar'd to ask. [, Oct., 1806.]

TO A LADY WHO PRESENTED TO THE AUTHOR A LOCK OF HAIR BRAIDED WITH HIS OWN, AND APPOINTED A NIGHT IN DECEMBER TO MEET HIM IN THE GARDEN.

locks, which fondly thus entwine,

In firmer chains our hearts confine,

Than all th' unmeaning protestations

Which swell with nonsense, love orations.

Our love is fix'd, I think we've prov'd it;

Nor time, nor place, nor art have mov'd it;

Then wherefore should we sigh and whine,

With groundless jealousy repine;

With silly whims, and fancies frantic,

Merely to make our love romantic?

Why should you weep, like Lydia Languish,

And fret with self-created anguish?