"Soft flow'd the lay by Avon's sedgy side, While o'er its streams the drooping willow hung Beneath whose shadow Silvio fondly tried To check the opening roses as they sprung. In vain he bade them cease to court the gale, That wanton'd balmy on the zephyr's wing; In vain, when Philomel renew'd her tale, He chid her song, and said 'It was not Spring.

Those eyes, which brighten'd with maternal pride, As her sweet infants wanton'd by her side, 'Twas my sad fate to see for ever close On life, on love, the world, and all its woes; To watch the slow disease, with hopeless care, And veil in painful smiles my heart's despair; To see her droop, with restless languor weak, While fatal beauty mantled in her cheek, Like fresh flow'rs springing from some mouldering clay, Cherish'd by death, and blooming from decay.

The Heavens here were ever serene; no Thunder-bearing Cloud obscur'd the Sky; the whispering Zephyrs wanton'd in the Leaves, and gently bore along the enchanting Musick of the feather'd Choir: The Sea here knew no Storms, nor threatning Wave, with Mountain swell, menaced the Ships, which safely plough'd the peaceful Bosom of the Deep.

I burn and am consumed with hopeless Love; those Beams in whose soft temperate warmth I wanton'd heretofore, now flash destruction to my Soul, my Treacherous greedy Eyes have suck'd the glaring Light, they have united all its Rays, and, like a burning-Glass, convey'd the pointed Meteor to my Heart Ah! Aurelian, how quickly hast thou Conquer'd, and how quickly must thou Forsake.

"And I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Borne, like thy bubbles, onward; from a boy I wanton'd with thy breakers they to me Were a delight; and if the freshening sea Made them a terror 'twas a pleasing fear; For I was, as it were, a child of thee, And trusted to thy billows, far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane as I do here." Byron.

And I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Borne, like thy bubbles, onward: from a boy I wanton'd with thy breakers they to me Were a delight; and if the freshening sea Made them a terror 'twas a pleasing fear.