Lord Byron - An Unpublished Poem

 
"Oh Memory, torture me no more,
The present's all o'ercast;
My hopes of future bliss are o'er,
In mercy veil the past.
Why bring those images to view
I henceforth must resign ?
Ah ! why those happy hours renew,
That never can be mine?
Past pleasure doubles present pain,
To sorrow adds regret,
Regret and hope are both in vain,
I ask but to — forget."

Lord Byron  - English Poet -  1788-1824

"Byron's famous love poetry gives us a glimpse of the tremendous passions that moved him.
Lord Byron's hedonistic lifestyle and much recorded cavalier and scandalous treatment of his many women certainly does not lend credence to any reputation he might have as a caring and sensitive soul, but maybe the above example of his famous love poetry can be seen as proof of some redeeming evidence. 


His first true love at the age of 16, was Mary Chaworth who two years older, was derisive about his devotion to her. Byron, already aware of the doomed outcome of this unrequited love, wrote with a pencil in a volume of Madame de Maintenon's letters, belonging to her, the following verses, which was never published:

Years later, after contracting an unhappy marriage, she sought vainly to rekindle his interest, at a time his fame as a great poet was burgeoning. As is often the case in such matters, it was far too late."
From Love Poetry of the World.
I also recommend that you read Byron's epic and reflective poem "The Dream"
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Ashes of Love

Love burned so brightly
A glow like the sunset
It held so much promise
In its colours of flame
Beguiled by its wonder
I flew too close to the beauty
I was drawn to its source
And consumed by its flame
Now I sift through the ashes
To find what had been ...

Prose - Dianne Dawes ... ♡
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Love Is Never Wasted

Love is never wasted

For the happiness it gives

When love is in full bloom

When hope still lives on

The beauty of the moments

Cannot fade away

For always in my heart

They will stay.

I am none the less

For having loved and lost

For my heart is complete

And the memories live on 

Sadness still haunts me

But new life must be sown

My teardrops fell like petals

But now new flowers grow ...

Prose - Dianne Dawes ... ♡
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To Autumn

Come, pensive Autumn, with thy clouds and storms

And falling leaves and pastures lost to flowers;

A luscious charm hangs on thy faded forms,

More sweet than Summer in her loveliest hours,

Who in her blooming uniform of green

Delights with samely and continued joy:

But give me, Autumn, where thy hand hath been,

For there is wildness that can never cloy -

The russet hue of fields left bare, and all

The tints of leaves and blossoms ere they fall.

In thy dull days of clouds a pleasure comes,

Wild music softens in thy hollow winds;

And in thy fading woods a beauty blooms

That’s more than dear to melancholy minds.

John Clare (1793-1864) English Poet

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