8.
To think of every early scene, Of what we are, and what we've been, Would whelm some softer hearts with woe-- But mine, alas! has stood the blow; Yet still beats on as it begun, And never truly loves but one.
9.
And who that dear lov'd one may be, Is not for vulgar eyes to see; And why that early love was cross'd, Thou know'st the best, I feel the most; But few that dwell beneath the sun Have loved so long, and loved but one.
10.
I've tried another's fetters too, With charms perchance as fair to view; And I would fain have loved as well, But some unconquerable spell Forbade my bleeding breast to own A kindred care for aught but one.
11.
'Twould soothe to take one lingering view, And bless thee in my last adieu; Yet wish I not those eyes to weep For him that wanders o'er the deep; His home, his hope, his youth are gone, [iii]
Yet still he loves, and loves but one. [iv]
1809. [First published, 1809.]
[Footnote i:
'To Mrs. Musters.'
['MS.']
'To----on Leaving England.'
['Imit. and Transl.', p. 227.]
[Footnote ii:
'But friend or lover I have none'.
['Imit. and Transl'., p. 229.]]
[Footnote iii:
'Though wheresoever my bark may run, I love but thee, I love but one.'
['Imit. and Transl.', p. 230.]
'The land recedes his Bark is gone, Yet still he loves and laves but one.'
[MS.]
[Footnote iv:
'Yet far away he loves but one.'
[MS.]
ENGLISH BARDS, AND SCOTCH REVIEWERS;
A SATIRE.
BY
LORD BYRON.
"I had rather be a kitten, and cry, mew!
Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers."
SHAKESPEARE.
"Such shameless Bards we have; and yet 'tis true, There are as mad, abandon'd Critics, too."