When We Two Parted

When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.
The dew of the morning
Sunk chill on my brow–
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame;
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shudder comes o’er me–
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee so well–
Long, long I shall rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met–
In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?–
With silence and tears.

George Gordon, Lord Byron
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About Uisce úr

Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done, The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun.
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6 Responses to When We Two Parted

  1. Alan says:

    Not the most popular of chaps in my timeline..Instrumental in the defeat of the Tuatha de Danaan. He ended up being killed by his own brother.

    Like

  2. Pilgrim33 says:

    Here you go Alan.
    All of existence is in these words.

    I am a stag: of seven tines,
    I am a flood: across a plain,
    I am a wind: on a deep lake,
    I am a tear: the Sun lets fall,
    I am a hawk: above the cliff,
    I am a thorn: beneath the nail,
    I am a wonder: among flowers,
    I am a wizard: who but I
    Sets the cool head aflame with smoke?

    I am a spear: that roars for blood,
    I am a salmon: in a pool,
    I am a lure: from paradise,
    I am a hill: where poets walk,
    I am a boar: ruthless and red,
    I am a breaker: threatening doom,
    I am a tide: that drags to death,
    I am an infant: who but I
    Peeps from the unhewn dolmen, arch?

    I am the womb: of every holt,
    I am the blaze: on every hill,
    I am the queen: of every hive,
    I am the shield: for every head,
    I am the tomb: of every hope.

    Song of Amergin translated by Robert Graves, from The White Goddess, Faber and Faber Limited, 24 Russell Square London WC1. It appears here under the principle of Fair Use.

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  3. Alan says:

    Yep. At first I thought that might have been a bit of poetic licence, A portmanteau of shrug and shudder. But it seems to be just a typo.

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  4. Pilgrim33 says:

    “shrudder”
    I shruddered when I beheld the shredder?

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  5. DaveB says:

    Thomas Campion (1567-1620)

    from The Fourth Booke of Ayres

    VII.

    There is a Garden in her face,
    Where Roses and white Lillies grow;
    A heav’nly paradice is that place,
    Wherein all pleasant fruits doe flow.
    There Cherries grow, which none may buy
    Till Cherry ripe themselves doe cry.

    Those Cherries fayrely doe enclose
    Of Orient Pearle a double row,
    Which when her lovely laughter showes,
    They look like Rose-buds fill’d with snow.
    Yet them nor Peere nor Prince can buy,
    Till Cherry ripe themselves doe cry.

    Her Eyes like Angels watch them still;
    Her Browes like bended bowes doe stand,
    Threatning with piercing frownes to kill
    All that attempt with eye or hand
    Those sacred Cherries to come nigh,
    Till Cherry ripe themselves doe cry.

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  6. Alan says:

    She walks in Beauty

    SHE walks in beauty, like the night
    Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
    And all that ‘s best of dark and bright
    Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
    Thus mellow’d to that tender light
    Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
    One shade the more, one ray the less,
    Had half impair’d the nameless grace
    Which waves in every raven tress,
    Or softly lightens o’er her face;
    Where thoughts serenely sweet express
    How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

    And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
    So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
    The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
    But tell of days in goodness spent,
    A mind at peace with all below,
    A heart whose love is innocent!

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