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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=396258" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To The Countess Of Blessington</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">You have ask'd for a verse:--the request<br>In a rhymer 'twere strange to deny;<br>But my Hippocrene was but my breast,<br>And my feelings (its fountain) are dry.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Were I now as I was, I had sung<br>What Lawrence has painted so well;<br>But the strain would expire on my tongue,<br>And the theme is too soft for my shell.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am ashes where once I was fire,<br>And the bard in my bosom is dead;<br>What I loved I now merely admire, <br>And my heart is as grey as my head.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My life is not dated by years--<br>There are moments which act as plough;<br>And there is not a furrow appears<br>But is deep in my soul as my brow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let the young and the brilliant aspire<br>To sing what I gaze on in vain;<br>For sorrow has torn from my lyre<br>The string which was worthy the strain.</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=396258" data-title="To The Countess Of Blessington de Byron" data-description="You have ask'd for a verse:--the request
In a rhymer 'twere strange to deny;
But my Hippocrene was but my breast,
And my feelings (its fountain) are dry.

Were I now as I was, I had sung
What Lawrence has painted so well;
But the strain would expi..."></div>
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