The kiss, dear maid! thy lip has left <br />Shall never part from mine, <br />Till happier hours restore the gift <br />Untainted back to thine. <br /> <br />Thy parting glance, which fondly beams, <br />An equal love may see: <br />The tear that from thing eyelid streams <br />Can weep no change in me. <br /> <br />I ask no pledge to make me blest <br />In gazing when alone; <br />Nor one memorial for a breast, <br />Whose thoughts are all thine own. <br /> <br />Nor need I write to tell the tale <br />My pen were doubly weak: <br />Oh! what can idle words avail, <br />Unless the heart could speak? <br /> <br />By day or night, in weal or woe, <br />That heart, no longer free, <br />Must bear the love it cannot show, <br />And silent ache for thee. <br /> <br />March 1811.<br /><br />George Gordon Byron<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-parting/
