The starry fable of the milky way Has not the story's purity; it is A constellation of a sweeter ray, And sacred Nature triumphs more in this Reverse… - Lord Byron

Tis long since I beheld that eye
Which gave me bliss or misery;
And I have striven, but in vain,
Never to think of it again:
For though I fly from Albion,
I still can only love but one.

As some lone bird, without a mate,
My weary heart is desolate;
I look around, and cannot trace
One friendly smile or welcome face,
And ev'n in crowds am still alone,
Because I cannot love but one.

And I will cross the whitening foam,
And I will seek a foreign home;
Till I forget a false fair face,
I ne'er shall find a resting-place;
My own dark thoughts I cannot shun,
But ever love, and love but one.

For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast.

I will not ask where thou liest low, Nor gaze upon the spot;
There flowers or weeds at will may
grow, So I behold them not