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Updated: May 7, 2025
Love's thrilling sympathies, affections pure, All that endear'd and hallow'd your lost home, Shall on a broad foundation, firm and sure, Establish peace; the wilderness become, Dear as the distant land you fondly prize, Or dearer visions that in memory rise.
"Let me tell you my favorite stanza," and, with an eloquence that brought out their meaning, she repeated the beautiful lines: Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd, Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone: Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; Bold lover, never, never canst thou kiss, Though winning near the goal yet, do not grieve; She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, Forever wilt thou love, and she be fair!
Do thou, amidst the fair white walls, If Cadiz yet be free, At times from out her latticed halls Look o'er the dark blue sea Then think upon Calypso's isles, Endear'd by days gone by, To others give a thousand smiles, To me a single sigh. The only other adventure of the visit is Byron's quarrel with an officer, on some unrecorded ground, which Hobhouse tells us nearly resulted in a duel.
"Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd, Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone: Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss, Though winning near the goal yet, do not grieve; She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!
"I am quite at sea." "Perhaps," I said, "you will understand the point better if I give it you in the words of a poet." And I quoted the well-known stanzas from Keats' "Ode on a Grecian Urn": "Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd.
The others were devoted to the society of his chosen comrades. Byron, if not one of the safest, was one of the warmest of friends; and he plucked the more eagerly at the choicest fruit of English public school and college life, from the feeling he so pathetically expresses, Is there no cause beyond the common claim, Endear'd to all in childhood's very name?
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