Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 2.djvu/323

CANTO III.] CXIV.

I have not loved the World, nor the World me,—

But let us part fair foes; I do believe,

Though I have found them not, that there may be

Words which are things,—hopes which will not deceive,

And Virtues which are merciful, nor weave

Snares for the failing; I would also deem

O'er others' griefs that some sincerely grieve— N24

That two, or one, are almost what they seem,—

That Goodness is no name—and Happiness no dream.

CXV.

My daughter! with thy name this song begun!

My daughter! with thy name thus much shall end!—

I see thee not—I hear thee not—but none

Can be so wrapt in thee; Thou art the Friend

To whom the shadows of far years extend:

Albeit my brow thou never should'st behold,

My voice shall with thy future visions blend,

And reach into thy heart,—when mine is cold,—

A token and a tone, even from thy father's mould.