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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=396172" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Remember Him, Whom Passion's Power</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Remember him, whom Passion's power<br> Severely---deeply---vainly proved:<br>Remember thou that dangerous hour,<br> When neither fell, though both were loved.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">That yielding breast, that melting eye,<br> Too much invited to be blessed:<br>That gentle prayer, that pleading sigh,<br> The wilder wish reproved, repressed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh! let me feel that all I lost<br> But saved thee all that Conscience fears;<br>And blush for every pang it cost<br> To spare the vain remorse of years.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet think of this when many a tongue,<br> Whose busy accents whisper blame,<br>Would do the heart that loved thee wrong,<br> And brand a nearly blighted name.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Think that, whate'er to others, thou<br> Hast seen each selfish thought subdued:<br>I bless thy purer soul even now,<br> Even now, in midnight solitude.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, God! that we had met in time,<br> Our hearts as fond, thy hand more free;<br>When thou hadst loved without a crime,<br> And I been less unworthy thee!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Far may thy days, as heretofore,<br> From this our gaudy world be past!<br>And that too bitter moment o'er,<br> Oh! may such trial be thy last.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This heart, alas! perverted long,<br> Itself destroyed might there destroy;<br>To meet thee in the glittering throng,<br> Would wake Presumption's hope of joy.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then to the things whose bliss or woe,<br> Like mine, is wild and worthless all,<br>That world resign---such scenes forego,<br> Where those who feel must surely fall.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thy youth, thy charms, thy tenderness---<br> Thy soul from long seclusion pure;<br>From what even here hath passed, may guess<br> What there thy bosom must endure.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh! pardon that imploring tear,<br> Since not by Virtue shed in vain,<br>My frenzy drew from eyes so dear;<br> For me they shall not weep again.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though long and mournful must it be,<br> The thought that we no more may meet;<br>Yet I deserve the stern decree,<br> And almost deem the sentence sweet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Still---had I loved thee less---my heart<br> Had then less sacrificed to thine;<br>It felt not half so much to part<br> As if its guilt had made thee mine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Byron">Byron</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=396172" data-title="Remember Him, Whom Passion's Power de Byron" data-description="Remember him, whom Passion's power
 Severely---deeply---vainly proved:
Remember thou that dangerous hour,
 When neither fell, though both were loved.

That yielding breast, that melting eye,
 Too much invited to be blessed:
That gentle prayer, tha..."></div>
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