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Elegy on Thyrza

AND thou art dead as young and fair 
As aught of mortal birth; 
And form so soft and charms so rare 
Too soon return'd to Earth! 
Though Earth received them in her bed 5 
And o'er the spot the crowd may tread 
In carelessness or mirth  
There is an eye which could not brook 
A moment on that grave to look.
I will not ask where thou liest low 10 Nor gaze upon the spot; There flowers or weeds at will may grow So I behold them not: It is enough for me to prove That what I loved and long must love 15 Like common earth can rot; To me there needs no stone to tell 'Tis Nothing that I loved so well.
Yet did I love thee to the last As fervently as thou 20 Who didst not change through all the past And canst not alter now.
The love where Death has set his seal Nor age can chill nor rival steal Nor falsehood disavow; 25 And what were worse thou canst not see Or wrong or change or fault in me.
The better days of life were ours The worst can be but mine; The sun that cheers the storm that lours 30 Shall never more be thine.
The silence of that dreamless sleep I envy now too much to weep; Nor need I to repine That all those charms have pass'd away 35 I might have watch'd through long decay.
The flower in ripen'd bloom unmatch'd Must fall the earliest prey; Though by no hand untimely snatch'd.
The leaves must drop away.
40 And yet it were a greater grief To watch it withering leaf by leaf Than see it pluck'd to-day; Since earthly eye but ill can bear To trace the change to foul from fair.
45 I know not if I could have borne To see thy beauties fade; The night that follow'd such a morn Had worn a deeper shade.
Thy day without a cloud hath pass'd 50 And thou wert lovely to the last Extinguish'd not decay'd; As stars that shoot along the sky Shine brightest as they fall from high.
As once I wept if I could weep 55 My tears might well be shed To think I was not near to keep One vigil o'er thy bed¡ª To gaze how fondly! on thy face To fold thee in a faint embrace 60 Uphold thy drooping head And show that love however vain Nor thou nor I can feel again.
Yet how much less it were to gain Though thou hast left me free 65 The loveliest things that still remain Than thus remember thee! The all of thine that cannot die Through dark and dread eternity Returns again to me 70 And more thy buried love endears Than aught except its living years.

Poem by George (Lord) Byron
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things