Lord George Gordon Byron (1788-1824)
When we two parted 
In silence and tears, 
Half broken-hearted 
To sever for years, 
Pale grew thy cheek and cold, 
Colder thy kiss; 
Truly that hour foretold 
Sorrow to this. 
  
The dew of the morning 
Sunk chill on my brow-- 
It felt like the warning 
Of what I feel now. 
Thy vows are all broken, 
And light is thy fame: 
I hear thy name spoken, 
And share in its shame. 
  
They name thee before me, 
A knell to mine ear; 
A shudder comes o'er me-- 
Why wert thou so dear? 
They know not I knew thee, 
Who knew thee too well: 
Lond, long shall I rue thee, 
Too deeply to tell. 
  
I secret we met-- 
I silence I grieve, 
That thy heart could forget, 
Thy spirit deceive. 
If I should meet thee 
After long years, 
How should I greet thee? 
With silence and tears.
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