Bard of the broken heart! whose sovereign skill Has swept the chords that waken inmost woe: Thou tuneful tracer of the streams that flow, In fitful tides from nature's found of ill, Making life leprous! thence such plagues distil! Thou who hast known, what all would madly know, Pleasure's fierce throb, and fame's exulting glow, The cheating joys which through our being thrill— Till God retrieve us! say if light divine Dawns on thy soul, and brightens to thy view, That holy page where endlessly shall shine The Godhead's glory? if a ray of true Intelligence shall win thee to the mine Of gospel treasure, all that man e'er knew Of bliss and wisdom, BYRON, will be thine!
