And Wilt Thou Weep When I Am Low?

A poem by Lord George Gordon Byron

1.

And wilt thou weep when I am low?
Sweet lady! speak those words again:
Yet if they grieve thee, say not so -
I would not give that bosom pain.


2.

My heart is sad, my hopes are gone,
My blood runs coldly through my breast;
And when I perish, thou alone
Wilt sigh above my place of rest.


3.

And yet, methinks, a gleam of peace
Doth through my cloud of anguish shine:
And for a while my sorrows cease,
To know thy heart hath felt for mine.


4.

Oh lady! blessèd be that tear -
It falls for one who cannot weep;
Such precious drops are doubly dear
To those whose eyes no tear may steep.


5.

Sweet lady! once my heart was warm
With every feeling soft as thine;
But Beauty's self hath ceased to charm
A wretch created to repine.


6.

Yet wilt thou weep when I am low?
Sweet lady! speak those words again:
Yet if they grieve thee, say not so -
I would not give that bosom pain. [1]