Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 3.djvu/66

Yet oft my doubting Soul 'twill shake;
⁠Ev'n Slumber owns its gentle tone,
Till Consciousness will vainly wake
⁠To listen, though the dream be flown.

4.

Sweet Thyrza! waking as in sleep,
⁠Thou art but now a lovely dream;
A Star that trembled o'er the deep,
⁠Then turned from earth its tender beam.
But he who through Life's dreary way
⁠Must pass, when Heaven is veiled in wrath,
Will long lament the vanished ray
⁠That scattered gladness o'er his path.

December 8, 1811.
[First published, Childe Harold, 1812 (4to).]

ONE STRUGGLE MORE, AND I AM FREE.^{[lower-roman 1]}

1.

One struggle more, and I am free
⁠From pangs that rend my heart in twain;^{[lower-roman 2]}
One last long sigh to Love and thee,
⁠Then back to busy life again.
It suits me well to mingle now
⁠With things that never pleased before:^{[lower-roman 3]}
Though every joy is fled below,
⁠What future grief can touch me more?^{[lower-roman 4]}

Variants

1. To Thyrza.—[Editions 1812-1831.]
2. From pangs that tear ——.—[MS.]
   Such pangs that tear ——.—[MS. erased.]
3. With things that moved me not before.—[MS. erased.]
4. What sorrow cannot ——.—[MS.]