Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
Lord Byron
[La Revanche]
1.
There is no more for me to hope,
There is no more for thee to fear;
And, if I give my Sorrow scope,
That Sorrow thou shalt never hear.
Why did I hold thy love so dear?
Why shed for such a heart one tear?
Let deep and dreary silence be
My only memory of thee!
2.
When all are fled who flatter now,
Save thoughts which will not flatter then;
And thou recall'st the broken vow
To him who must not love again—
Each hour of now forgotten years
Thou, then, shalt number with thy tears;
And every drop of grief shall be
A vain remembrancer of me!