Doubtless, sweet girl! the hissing lead, <br />Wafting destruction o'er thy charms, <br />And hurtling o'er thy lovely head, <br />Has fill'd that breast with fond alarms. <br /> <br />Surely some envious demon's force, <br />Vex'd to behold such beauty here, <br />Impell'd the bullet's viewless course, <br />Diverted from its first career. <br /> <br />Yes! in that nearly fatal hour <br />The ball obey'd some hell-born guide; <br />But Heaven, with interposing power, <br />In pity turn'd the death aside. <br /> <br />Yet, as perchance one trembling tear <br />Upon that thrilling bosom fell; <br />Which I, th' unconscious cause of fear, <br />Extracted fromn its glistening cell: <br /> <br />Say, what dire penance can atone <br />For such an outrage done to thee? <br />Arraign'd before thy beauty's throne, <br />What punishment wilt thou decree? <br /> <br />Might I perform the judge's part, <br />The sentence I should scarce deplore; <br />It only would restore a heart <br />Which but belong'd to thee before. <br /> <br />The least atonement I can make <br />Is to become no longer free; <br />Henceforth I breathe but for thy sake, <br />Thou shalt be all in all to me. <br /> <br />But thou, perhaps, may'st now reject <br />Such expiation of my guilt; <br />Come then, some other mode elect; <br />Let it be death, or what thou wilt. <br /> <br />Choose then, relentless! and I swear <br />Nought shall thy dread decree prevent; <br />Yet hold-one little word forbear! <br />Let it be aught but banishment.<br /><br />George Gordon Byron<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lines-addressed-to-a-young-lady/
