George Gordon Byron

To George, Earl Delawarr

1.

Oh! yes, I will own we were dear to each other;
⁠     The friendships of childhood, though fleeting, are true;
The love which you felt was the love of a brother,
     ⁠Nor less the affection I cherish'd for you.


2.

But Friendship can vary her gentle dominion;
⁠     The attachment of years, in a moment expires:
Like Love, too, she moves on a swift-waving pinion,
⁠     But glows not, like Love, with unquenchable fires.

3.

Full oft have we wander'd through Ida together,
     ⁠And blest were the scenes of our youth, I allow:
In the spring of our life, how serene is the weather!
⁠     But Winter's rude tempests are gathering now.

4.

No more with Affection shall Memory blending,
⁠     The wonted delights of our childhood retrace:
When Pride steels the bosom, the heart is unbending,
⁠     And what would be Justice appears a disgrace.

5.

However, dear George, for I still must esteem you—
⁠     The few, whom I love, I can never upbraid;
The chance, which has lost, may in future redeem you,
⁠     Repentance will cancel the vow you have made.

6.

I will not complain, and though chill'd is affection,
     ⁠With me no corroding resentment shall live:
My bosom is calm'd by the simple reflection,
     ⁠That both may be wrong, and that both should forgive.

7.

You knew, that my soul, that my heart, my existence,
     ⁠If danger demanded, were wholly your own;
You knew me unalter'd, by years or by distance,
     ⁠Devoted to love and to friendship alone.

8.

You knew,—but away with the vain retrospection!
⁠     The bond of affection no longer endures;
Too late you may droop o'er the fond recollection,
⁠     And sigh for the friend, who was formerly yours.

9.

For the present, we part,—I will hope not for ever;
     ⁠For time and regret will restore you at last:
To forget our dissension we both should endeavour,
     ⁠I ask no atonement, but days like the past.