The better days of life were ours;
The worst can be but mine:
The sun that cheers, the storm that lowers,
Shall never more be thine.
The silence of that dreamless sleep
I envy now too much to weep;
Nor need I to repine
That all those charms have pass’d away,
I might have watch’d through long decay.

— From “And Thou art Dead, as Young and Fair” by Lord Byron

Posted 2 months ago with 1 note
Tagged with #lit#poetry#poem#death#love#life
  1. ploctopus posted this