| Francis T. Palgrave, ed. (1824–1897). The Golden Treasury. 1875. |
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| Lord Byron |
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| CCXXXII. Elegy |
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| OH, snatch'd away in beauty's bloom! | |
| On thee shall press no ponderous tomb; | |
| But on thy turf shall roses rear | |
| Their leaves, the earliest of the year, | |
| And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom: | 5 |
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| And oft by yon blue gushing stream | |
| Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head, | |
| And feed deep thought with many a dream, | |
| And lingering pause and lightly tread; | |
| Fond wretch! as if her step disturb'd the dead! | 10 |
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| Away! we know that tears are vain, | |
| That Death nor heeds nor hears distress: | |
| Will this unteach us to complain? | |
| Or make one mourner weep the less? | |
| And thou, who tell'st me to forget, | 15 |
| Thy looks are wan, thine eyes are wet. | |
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