Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 2.djvu/506

462 CLXXXV.

My task is done—my song hath ceased—my theme

Has died into an echo; it is fit

The spell should break of this protracted dream.

The torch shall be extinguished which hath lit

My midnight lamp—and what is writ, is writ,—

Would it were worthier! but I am not now

That which I have been—and my visions flit

Less palpably before me—and the glow

Which in my Spirit dwelt is fluttering, faint, and low.

CLXXXVI.

Farewell! a word that must be, and hath been—

A sound which makes us linger;—yet—farewell!

Ye! who have traced the Pilgrim to the scene

Which is his last—if in your memories dwell