Lord Byron Poem

To a Lady Weeping

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Weep, daughter of a royal line,
A Sire’s disgrace, a realm’s decay;
Ah, happy! if each tear of thine
Could wash a father’s fault away!

Weep—for thy tears are Virtue’s tears—
Auspicious to these suffering isles;
And be each drop in future years
Repaid thee by thy people’s smiles!

March, 1812.
If Sometimes In The Haunts Of Men
To Thyrza: And Thou Art Dead, As Young And Fair

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