George Gordon Noel Byron, 1788 - 1824
Farewell! If ever fondest prayer
For other’s weal avail’d on high,
Mine will not all be lost in air,
But waft thy name beyond the sky.
’T were vain to speak, to weep, to sigh:
Oh! More than tears of blood can tell,
When wrung from guilt’s expiring eye,
Are in that word - Farewell! - farewell!
These lips
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