The Works of Lord Byron, Vol. 1 (To Caroline IV) Lord Byron

To Caroline [1]

1.          When I hear you express an affection so warm,
         Ne'er think, my belov'd, that I do not believe;
         For your lip would the soul of suspicion disarm,
         And your eye beams a ray which can never deceive.

2.          Yet still, this fond bosom regrets, while adoring,
         That love, like the leaf, must fall into the sear,
         That Age will come on, when Remembrance, deploring,
        Contemplates the scenes of her youth, with a tear;

3.          That the time must arrive, when, no longer retaining
         Their auburn, those locks must wave thin to the breeze,
         When a few silver hairs of those tresses remaining,
         Prove nature a prey to decay and disease.

4.         Tis this, my belov'd, which spreads gloom o'er my features,
         Though I ne'er shall presume to arraign the decree
         Which God has proclaim'd as the fate of his creatures,
         In the death which one day will deprive you of me. [i]

5.          Mistake not, sweet sceptic, the cause of emotion, [ii]
         No doubt can the mind of your lover invade;
        He worships each look with such faithful devotion,
        A smile can enchant, or a tear can dissuade.