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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=396199" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Adieu</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Written Under The Impression That The Author Would Soon Die.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Adieu, thou Hill! where early joy<br>Spread roses o'er my brow;<br>Where Science seeks each loitering boy<br>With knowledge to endow.<br>Adieu, my youthful friends or foes, <br>Partners of former bliss or woes;<br>No more through Ida's paths we stray;<br>Soon must I share the gloomy cell,<br>Whose ever&#8209;slumbering inmates dwell<br>Unconscious of the day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Adieu, ye hoary Regal Fanes,<br>Ye spires of Granta's vale,<br>Where Learning robed in sable reigns,<br>And Melancholy pale.<br>Ye comrades of the jovial hour,<br>Ye tenants of the classic bower,<br>On Cama's verdant margin placed,<br>Adieu! while memory still is mine,<br>For, offerings on Oblivion's shrine,<br>These scenes must be effaced.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Adieu, ye mountains of the clime<br>Where grew my youthful years;<br>Where Loch na Garr in snows sublime<br>His giant summit rears.<br>Why did my childhood wander forth<br>From you, ye regions of the North,<br>With sons of pride to roam?<br>Why did I quit my Highland cave,<br>Mar's dusky heath, and Dee's clear wave,<br>To seek a Sotheron home!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hall of my Sires! a long farewell--<br>Yet why to thee adieu?<br>Thy vaults will echo back my knell,<br>Thy towers my tomb will view:<br>The faltering tongue which sung thy fall,<br>And former glories of thy Hall,<br>Forgets its wonted simple note--<br>But yet the Lyre retains the strings,<br>And sometimes, on Æolian wings,<br>In dying strains may float. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fields which surround yon rustic cot,<br>While yet I linger here,<br>Adieu! you are not now forgot,<br>To retrospection dear. <br>Streamlet! along whose rippling surge<br>My youthful limbs were wont to urge,<br>At noontide heat, their pliant course;<br>Plunging with ardour from the shore,<br>Thy springs will lave these limbs no more,<br>Deprived of active force. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And shall I here forget the scene,<br>Still nearest to my breast?<br>Rocks rise and rivers roll between<br>The spot which passion blest;<br>Yet, Mary, all thy beauties seem<br>Fresh as in Love's bewitching dream,<br>To me in smiles display'd;<br>Till slow disease resigns his prey<br>To Death, the parent of decay,<br>Thine image cannot fade.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And thou, my Friend! whose gentle love<br>Yet thrills my bosom's chords,<br>How much thy friendship was above<br>Description's power of words!<br>Still near my breast thy gift I wear <br>Which sparkled once with Feeling's tear,<br>Of Love the pure, the sacred gem;<br>Our souls were equal, and our lot<br>In that dear moment quite forgot;<br>Let Pride alone condemn!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">All, all is dark and cheerless now!<br>No smile of Love's deceit<br>Can warm my veins with wonted glow,<br>Can bid Life's pulses beat:<br>Not e'en the hope of future fame<br>Can wake my faint, exhausted frame,<br>Or crown with fancied wreaths my head.<br>Mine is a short inglorious race,--<br>To humble in the dust my face,<br>And mingle with the dead.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh Fame! thou goddess of my heart;<br>On him who gains thy praise,<br>Pointless must fall the Spectre's dart,<br>Consumed in Glory's blaze;<br>But me she beckons from the earth, <br>My name obscure, unmark'd my birth,<br>My life a short and vulgar dream:<br>Lost in the dull, ignoble crowd,<br>My hopes recline within a shroud,<br>My fate is Lathe's stream.<br>When I repose beneath the sod,<br>Unheeded in the clay,<br>Where once my playful footsteps trod,<br>Where now my head must lay,<br>The weed of Pity will be shed<br>In dew-drops o'er my narrow bed,<br>By nightly skies, and storms alone;<br>No mortal eye will deign to steep<br>With tears the dark sepulchral deep<br>Which hides a name unknown.<br>Forget this world, my restless sprite,<br>Turn, turn thy thoughts to Heaven:<br>There must thou soon direct thy flight,<br>If errors are forgiven.<br>To bigots and to sects unknown,<br>Bow down beneath the Almighty's Throne;<br>To Him address thy trembling prayer:<br>He, who is merciful and just,<br>Will not reject a child of dust,<br>Although his meanest care.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Father of Light! to Thee I call;<br>My soul is dark within:<br>Thou who canst mark the sparrow's fall,<br>Avert the death of sin.<br>Thou, who canst guide the wandering star,<br>Who calm'st the elemental war, <br>Whose mantle is yon boundless sky,<br>My thoughts, my words, my crimes forgive:<br>And, since I soon must cease to live,<br>Instruct me how to die.</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=396199" data-title="The Adieu de Byron" data-description="Written Under The Impression That The Author Would Soon Die.


Adieu, thou Hill! where early joy
Spread roses o'er my brow;
Where Science seeks each loitering boy
With knowledge to endow.
Adieu, my youthful friends or foes, 
Partners of former bli..."></div>
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