George Gordon Byron

(1788 - 1824 / London / England)

And Wilt Thou Weep When I Am Low?


And wilt thou weep when I am low?
Sweet lady! speak those words again:
Yet if they grieve thee, say not so---
I would not give that bosom pain.

My heart is sad, my hopes are gone,
My blood runs coldly through my breast;
And when I perish, thou alone
Wilt sigh above my place of rest.

And yet, methinks, a gleam of peace
Doth through my cloud of anguish shine:
And for a while my sorrows cease,
To know thy heart hath felt for mine.

Oh lady! blessd be that tear---
It falls for one who cannot weep;
Such precious drops are doubly dear
To those whose eyes no tear may steep.

Sweet lady! once my heart was warm
With every feeling soft as thine;
But Beauty's self hath ceased to charm
A wretch created to repine.

Yet wilt thou weep when I am low?
Sweet lady! speak those words again:
Yet if they grieve thee, say not so---
I would not give that bosom pain.

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003

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  • John McPartlan (6/13/2004 8:29:00 PM)

    Lord Byron has fallen out of love... with himself. It happens to the best - and worst - of us. It is an anguished state for us to find ourselves in as we grope to find an elusive cure. The balm offered by Lord Byron's sweet lady echoes of the human desire to be loved, no matter what. The consolation of her kind and loving words reminds us of the people in our own lives who love us unconditionally. I suspect that Lord Byron loved too much rather than too little. His emotional state appears overwrought with sadness. Byron's lament for a return to his former self is a desire we can relate to. When we are in love we are at our best. And that includes loving ourselves. (Report) Reply

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