George Gordon Byron
Lines Written On A Blank Leaf Of 'The Pleasures Of Memory' - Poem by George Gordon Byron
Absent or present, still to thee,
My friend, what magic spells belong!
As all can tell, who share, like me,
In turn thy converse and thy song.
But when the dreaded hour shall come
By Friendship ever deem'd too nigh,
And `MEMORY' o'er her Druid's tomb
Shall weep that aught of thee can die,
How fondly will she then repay
Thy homage offer'd at her shrine, to
And blend, while ages roll away,
Her name immortally with thine!
April 19, 1812
Comments about Lines Written On A Blank Leaf Of 'The Pleasures Of Memory' by George Gordon Byron
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You