George Gordon Byron

(22 January 1788 – 19 April 1824 / London, England)

Imitated From Catullus: To Ellen Poem by George Gordon Byron


Oh! might I kiss those eyes of fire,
A million scarce would quench desire:
Still would I steep my lips in bliss,
And dwell an age on every kiss;
Nor then my soul should sated be,
Still would I kiss and cling to thee:
Nought should my kiss from thine dissever;
Still would we kiss, and kiss for ever,
E'en though the numbers did exceed
The yellow harvest's countless seed.
To part would be a vain endeavor:
Could I desist? -- ah! never -- never!

Submitted: Wednesday, March 24, 2010

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