Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 3.djvu/72

42 2. I will not ask where thou liest low,

Nor gaze upon the spot;

There flowers or weeds at will may grow,

So I behold them not:

It is enough for me to prove

That what I loved, and long must love,

Like common earth can rot;

To me there needs no stone to tell,

'Tis Nothing that I loved so well.

3. Yet did I love thee to the last

As fervently as thou,

Who didst not change through all the past,

And canst not alter now.

The love where Death has set his seal,

Nor age can chill, nor rival steal,

Nor falsehood disavow:

And, what were worse, thou canst not see

Or wrong, or change, or fault in me.

4.

The better days of life were ours;

The worst can be but mine: Variants