Classic and Contemporary Poetry
TO A BEAUTIFUL QUAKER, by GEORGE GORDON BYRON Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Sweet girl! Though only once we met Last Line: Of him who never can forget!' Alternate Author Name(s): Byron, Lord; Byron, 6th Baron Subject(s): Friends, Religious Society Of; Quakers | ||||||||
SWEET girl! though only once we met, That meeting I shall ne'er forget; And though we ne'er may meet again, Remembrance will thy form retain. I would not say, 'I love,' but still My senses struggle with my will: In vain, to drive thee from my breast, My thoughts are more and more represt; In vain I check the rising sighs, Another to the last replies: Perhaps this is not love, but yet Our meeting I can ne'er forget. What though we never silence broke, Our eyes a sweeter language spoke. The tongue in flattering falsehood deals, And tells a tale it never feels; Deceit the guilty lips impart, And hush the mandates of the heart; But soul's interpreters, the eyes, Spurn such restraint and scorn disguise. As thus our glances oft conversed, And all our bosoms felt, rehearsed, No spirit, from within, reproved us, Say rather, ''t was the spirit moved us.' Though what they utter'd I repress, Yet I conceive thou 'lt partly guess; For as on thee my memory ponders, Perchance to me thine also wanders. This for myself, at least, I'll say, Thy form appears through night, through day: Awake, with it my fancy teems; In sleep, it smiles in fleeting dreams; The vision charms the hours away, And bids me curse Aurora's ray For breaking slumbers of delight Which make me wish for endless night: Since, oh! whate'er my future fate, Shall joy or woe my steps await, Tempted by love, by storms beset, Thine image I can ne'er forget. Alas! again no more we meet, No more our former looks repeat; Then let me breathe this parting prayer, The dictate of my bosom's care: 'May Heaven so guard my lovely quaker, That anguish never can o'ertake her; That peace and virtue ne'er forsake her, But bliss be aye her heart's partaker! Oh, may the happy mortal, fated To be by dearest ties related, For her each hour new joys discover, And lose the husband in the lover! May that fair bosom never know What 't is to feel the restless woe Which stings the soul with vain regret, Of him who never can forget!' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE QUAKER WIDOW by BAYARD TAYLOR CASSANDRA SOUTHWICK; 1658 by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER FIRST-DAY THOUGHTS by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER DRAB BONNETS by BERNARD BARTON THE QUAKER POET; VERSES ON SEEING MYSELF SO DESIGNATED by BERNARD BARTON VERSES SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN IN A BURIAL-GROUND .. SOCIETY OF FRIENDS by BERNARD BARTON A POETICAL VERSION OF A LETTER ON RESIGNATION, FROM JACOB BEHMEN by JOHN BYROM FAMILIAR EPISTLES ON A SERMON, 'OFFICE & OPERATIONS OF HOLY SPIRIT': 1 by JOHN BYROM FOR THE DUE IMPROVEMENT OF A FUNERAL SOLEMNITY by JOHN BYROM ALL IS VANITY, SAITH THE PREACHER' by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |
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