'What I have done is done; I bear within A torture which could nothing gain (from others). The Mind, which is immortal, makes itself Requital for its good or evil thoughts,-- Is its own origin of ill and end-- And its own place and time: I was my own destroyer, and will be My own hereafter... The hand of Death is on me... All things swim around me, and the Earth Heaves, as it were, beneath me. Fare thee well!' So far as we know, there is nothing in the whole length of this poem to suggest anything abnormal; and it is hard to understand what resemblance Byron's contemporaries could have discovered between the Astarte of 'Manfred' and Augusta Leigh! Enough has been quoted to show that Byron was not thinking of his sister when he wrote 'Manfred,' but of her whose life he had blasted, and whose 'sacred name' he trembled to reveal. In April, 1817, Byron was informed by Mrs. Leigh that Mary Chaworth and her husband had made up their differences. The 'Lament of Tasso' was written in that month, and Byron's thoughts were occupied, as usual, with the theme of all his misery. 'That thou wert beautiful, and I not blind, Hath been the sin that shuts me from mankind; But let them go, or torture as they will, My heart can multiply thine image still; Successful Love may sate itself away; The wretched are the faithful; 'tis their fate To have all feeling, save the one, decay, And every passion into one dilate, As rapid rivers into Ocean pour; But ours is fathomless, and hath no shore.' In 'Mazeppa' Byron tells how he met 'Theresa' in that month of June, and how 'through his brain the thought did pass that there was something in her air which would not doom him to despair.' This incident is again referred to in 'Don Juan.' The Count Palatine is, probably, intended as a sketch of Mary's husband. 'The Duel,' which was written in December, 1818, is addressed to Mary Chaworth: 'I loved thee--I will not say _how_, Since things like these are best forgot.' Byron alludes to 'the curse of blood,' with, 'many a bar and many a feud,' which 'rolled like a wide river between them': 'Alas! how many things have been Since we were friends; for I alone Feel more for thee than can be shown.' In the so-called 'Stanzas to the Po,' we find the same prolonged note of suffering. Writing to Murray (May 8, 1820), Byron says: 'I sent a copy of verses to Mr. Kinnaird (they were written last year on crossing the Po) which must _not_ be published. Pray recollect this, as they were mere verses of society, and written from private feelings and passions.'