MEDORA. BY LORD BYRON. THUS with himself communion held he, till "Deep in my soul that tender secret dwells, "There, in its centre, a sepulchral lamp Burns the slow flame, eternal-but unseen; "Remember me-Oh! pass not thou my grave The only pang my bosom dare not brave, My fondest faintest-latest accents hear― The first-last-sole reward of so much love!" He pass'd the portal-cross'd the corridor, And reach'd the chamber as the strain gave o'er: 66 My own Medora! sure thy song is sad?" "In Conrad's absence would'st thou have it glad? Without thine ear to listen to my lay, Still must my song my thoughts, my soul betray: My heart unhush'd—although my lips were mute! My dreaming fear with storms hath wing'd the wind, (FROM "THE CORSAIR.") |