Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 4.djvu/92

63 Of life which might have filled a century,

XV.

And for the remnant which may be to come

I am content; and for the past I feel

Not thankless,—for within the crowded sum

Of struggles, Happiness at times would steal,

And for the present, I would not benumb

My feelings farther.—Nor shall I conceal

That with all this I still can look around,

XVI.

For thee, my own sweet sister, in thy heart

I know myself secure, as thou in mine;

We were and are—I am, even as thou art—

Beings who ne'er each other can resign;

It is the same, together or apart,

From Life's commencement to its slow decline

We are entwined—let Death come slow or fast,

[First published, Letters and Journals, 1830, ii. 38-41.]