Yet how much less it were to gain,

Though thou hast left me free,[bi]

The loveliest things that still remain,

Than thus remember thee!

The all of thine that cannot die

Through dark and dread Eternity[bj]

Returns again to me,

And more thy buried love endears

Than aught, except its living years.

February, 1812.

[First published, Childe Harold, 1812 (Second Edition).]