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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=396249" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To M. S. G.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Whene'er I view those lips of thine, <br> Their hue invites my fervent kiss; <br>Yet, I forego that bliss divine, <br> Alas! it were---unhallow'd bliss. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Whene'er I dream of that pure breast, <br> How could I dwell upon its snows! <br>Yet, is the daring wish represt, <br> For that,---would banish its repose. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">A glance from thy soul-searching eye <br> Can raise with hope, depress with fear; <br>Yet, I conceal my love,---and why? <br> I would not force a painful tear. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I ne'er have told my love, yet thou <br> Hast seen my ardent flame too well; <br>And shall I plead my passion now, <br> To make thy bosom's heaven a hell? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">No! for thou never canst be mine, <br> United by the priest's decree: <br>By any ties but those divine, <br> Mine, my belov'd, thou ne'er shalt be. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then let the secret fire consume, <br> Let it consume, thou shalt not know: <br>With joy I court a certain doom, <br> Rather than spread its guilty glow. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I will not ease my tortur'd heart, <br> By driving dove-ey'd peace from thine; <br>Rather than such a sting impart, <br> Each thought presumptuous I resign. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yes! yield those lips, for which I'd brave <br> More than I here shall dare to tell; <br>Thy innocence and mine to save,--- <br> I bid thee now a last farewell. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yes! yield that breast, to seek despair <br> And hope no more thy soft embrace; <br>Which to obtain, my soul would dare, <br> All, all reproach, but thy disgrace. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">At least from guilt shalt thou be free, <br> No matron shall thy shame reprove; <br>Though cureless pangs may prey on me, <br> No martyr shalt thou be to love.</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=396249" data-title="To M. S. G. de Byron" data-description="Whene'er I view those lips of thine, 
 Their hue invites my fervent kiss; 
Yet, I forego that bliss divine, 
 Alas! it were---unhallow'd bliss. 

Whene'er I dream of that pure breast, 
 How could I dwell upon its snows! 
Yet, is the daring wish re..."></div>
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