English En
  • Deutsche De
  • English En
  • Français Fr
  • Русский Ru

We use cookies to personalise content and ads, to provide social media features and to analyse our traffic. We also share information about your use of our site with our marketing and analytics partners who may combine it with other information you've provided to them or which they've separately collected from you. You also may to see our Privacy Policy. By clicking the OK button below, you accept our cookies.

Authors:

The kiss, dear maid ! thy lip has left. Shall never part from mine, Till happier hours restore the gift. Untainted back to thine. 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.

George Byron