3 books to know Juvenalian Satire. Lord Byron

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СКАЧАТЬ many deaths do they escape by this:

      The death of friends, and that which slays even more—

      The death of friendship, love, youth, all that is,

      Except mere breath; and since the silent shore

      Awaits at last even those who longest miss

      The old archer's shafts, perhaps the early grave

      Which men weep over may be meant to save.

      Haidee and Juan thought not of the dead—

      The heavens, and earth, and air, seem'd made for them:

      They found no fault with Time, save that he fled;

      They saw not in themselves aught to condemn:

      Each was the other's mirror, and but read

      Joy sparkling in their dark eyes like a gem,

      And knew such brightness was but the reflection

      Of their exchanging glances of affection.

      The gentle pressure, and the thrilling touch,

      The least glance better understood than words,

      Which still said all, and ne'er could say too much;

      A language, too, but like to that of birds,

      Known but to them, at least appearing such

      As but to lovers a true sense affords;

      Sweet playful phrases, which would seem absurd

      To those who have ceased to hear such, or ne'er heard,—

      All these were theirs, for they were children still,

      And children still they should have ever been;

      They were not made in the real world to fill

      A busy character in the dull scene,

      But like two beings born from out a rill,

      A nymph and her beloved, all unseen

      To pass their lives in fountains and on flowers,

      And never know the weight of human hours.

      Moons changing had roll'd on, and changeless found

      Those their bright rise had lighted to such joys

      As rarely they beheld throughout their round;

      And these were not of the vain kind which cloys,

      For theirs were buoyant spirits, never bound

      By the mere senses; and that which destroys

      Most love, possession, unto them appear'd

      A thing which each endearment more endear'd.

      O beautiful! and rare as beautiful

      But theirs was love in which the mind delights

      To lose itself when the old world grows dull,

      And we are sick of its hack sounds and sights,

      Intrigues, adventures of the common school,

      Its petty passions, marriages, and flights,

      Where Hymen's torch but brands one strumpet more,

      Whose husband only knows her not a wh—re.

      Hard words; harsh truth; a truth which many know.

      Enough.—The faithful and the fairy pair,

      Who never found a single hour too slow,

      What was it made them thus exempt from care?

      Young innate feelings all have felt below,

      Which perish in the rest, but in them were

      Inherent—what we mortals call romantic,

      And always envy, though we deem it frantic.

      This is in others a factitious state,

      An opium dream of too much youth and reading,

      But was in them their nature or their fate:

      No novels e'er had set their young hearts bleeding,

      For Haidee's knowledge was by no means great,

      And Juan was a boy of saintly breeding;

      So that there was no reason for their loves

      More than for those of nightingales or doves.

      They gazed upon the sunset; 't is an hour

      Dear unto all, but dearest to their eyes,

      For it had made them what they were: the power

      Of love had first o'erwhelm'd them from such skies,

      When happiness had been their only dower,

      And twilight saw them link'd in passion's ties;

      Charm'd with each other, all things charm'd that brought

      The past still welcome as the present thought.

      I know not why, but in that hour to-night,

      Even as they gazed, a sudden tremor came,

      And swept, as 't were, across their hearts' delight,

      Like the wind o'er a harp-string, or a flame,

      When one is shook in sound, and one in sight;

      And thus some boding flash'd through either frame,

      And call'd from Juan's breast a faint low sigh,

      While one new tear arose in Haidee's eye.

      That large black prophet eye seem'd to dilate

      And follow far the disappearing sun,

      As if their last day! of a happy date

      With his broad, bright, and dropping orb were gone;

      Juan gazed on her as to ask his fate—

      He СКАЧАТЬ