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Have done a drunken slaughter, and defaced
The precious image of our dear Redeemer,
You straight are on your knees for pardon, pardon ;
And I, unjustly too, must grant it you:
But for my brother not a man would speak,
Nor I, ungracious, speak unto myself
For him, poor soul !—The proudest of you all
Have been beholden to him in his life;
Yet not a man would once plead for his life.
O God! I fear, thy justice will take hold
On me, and mine, and you, and yours for this.

FROM BYRON.

The kiss, dear maid, thy lip has left

Shall never part from mine,
Till happier hours restore the gift

Untainted back to thine.

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Tuum labellis hæret impressum meis,

Dilecta virgo, basium ;
Hærebit usque, donec intactum tibi

Reddat dies felicior.

Thy parting glance, which fondly beams,

An equal love may see; The tear, that from thine eyelid streams,

Can weep no change in me.

I ask no pledge to make me blest

In gazing when alone,
Nor one memorial for a breast,

Whose thoughts are all thine own.

Nor need I write; to tell the tale

My pen were doubly weak; Oh! what can idle words avail,

Unless the heart could speak ?

By day or night, in weal or woe,

That heart, no longer free, Must bear the love it cannot show,

And silent ache for thee.

Abitura vultu me benigno conspicis

Amans amantem non minus ; Caditque ocello lachryma; sed nunquam, fides

Quod nostra mutetur, cadet.

Haud pignus ullum, cujus aspectu fruar

Te solus amissâ, rogo: Haud quærit anima nostra monumentum tui,

Quæ tota de te cogitat.

Scriptisne tecum vis loquamur literis ?

At calamus impotens foret.
Nam verba quid me juverint inania,

Ni possit ipsum cor loqui ?

Necesse, fato quicquid accidat novi,

Noctes diesque cor meum
Lugere, amorem dum silentio premat,

Frustraque te desideret.

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