Verse > Lord Byron > Poems
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Lord Byron (1788–1824).  Poetry of Byron.  1881.
 
I. Personal, Lyric, and Elegiac
“Well! thou art happy”
 
WELL! thou art happy, and I feel
  That I should thus be happy too;
For still my heart regards thy weal
  Warmly, as it was wont to do.
 
Thy husband’s blest—and ’twill impart        5
  Some pangs to view his happier lot:
But let them pass—Oh! how my heart
  Would hate him, if he loved thee not!
 
When late I saw thy favourite child,
  I thought my jealous heart would break;        10
But when the unconscious infant smiled,
  I kiss’d it for its mother’s sake.
 
I kiss’d it,—and repressed my sighs
  Its father in its face to see;
But then it had its mother’s eyes,        15
  And they were all to love and me.
 
Mary, adieu! I must away:
  While thou art blest I’ll not repine;
But near thee I can never stay;
  My heart would soon again be thine.        20
 
I deem’d that time, I deem’d that pride
  Had quench’d at length my boyish flame:
Nor knew, till seated by thy side,
  My heart in all,—save hope,—the same.
 
Yet was I calm: I knew the time        25
  My breast would thrill before thy look;
But now to tremble were a crime—
  We met,—and not a nerve was shook.
 
I saw thee gaze upon my face,
  Yet met with no confusion there:        30
One only feeling could’st thou trace;
  The sullen calmness of despair.
 
Away! away! my early dream
  Remembrance never must awake;
Oh! where is Lethe’s fabled stream!        35
  My foolish heart be still, or break.
 
 
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