Byron

excerpt from “The Prisoner of Chillon” by Byron:

My brothers — both had ceased to breathe
I took that hand which lay so still,
Alas! my own was full as chill;
I had not strength to stir or strive,
But felt that I was still alive,
— A frantic feeling when we know
That what we love shall ne’er be so.

I know not why
I could not die,
I had no earthly hope — but faith,
And that forbade a selfish death.

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