BYRON! how sweetly sad thy melody! Attuning still the soul to tenderness, As if soft Pity, with unusual stress, Had touch'd her plaintive lute, and thou, being by, Hadst caught the tones, nor suffer'd them to die. O'ershadowing sorrow doth not make thee less Delightful: thou thy griefs dost dress With a bright halo, shining beamily, As when a cloud the golden moon doth veil, Its sides are ting'd with a resplendent glow, Through the dark robe oft amber rays prevail, And like fair veins in sable marble flow; Still warble, dying swan! still tell the tale, The enchanting tale, the tale of pleasing woe. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE YOUTH WITH RED-GOLD HAIR by EDITH SITWELL NO MARVEL IS IT by BERNART DE VENTADORN THE LIFE THAT IS by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT HEADS, HEARTS, AND HANDS by GEORGE W. BUNGAY DRIFTWOOD by DAISY DEAN BUTLER |