"My first dash into poetry was as early as 1800. It was the ebullition of a passion for--my first cousin, Margaret Parker (daughter and granddaughter of the two Admirals Parker), one of the most beautiful of evanescent beings. I have long forgotten the verse; but it would be difficult for me to forget her--her dark eyes--her long eye-lashes--her completely Greek cast of face and figure! I was then about twelve--she rather older, perhaps a year. She died about a year or two afterwards, in consequence of a fall, which injured her spine, and induced consumption ... I knew nothing of her illness, being at Harrow and in the country till she was gone. Some years after, I made an attempt at an elegy--a very dull one."--_Byron Diary_, 1821; _Life_, p. 17. [Margaret Parker was the sister of Sir Peter Parker, whose death at Baltimore, in 1814, Byron celebrated in the "Elegiac Stanzas," which were first published in the poems attached to the seventh edition of _Childe Harold_.] [Footnote i: _Such sorrow brings me honour, not disgrace_. [4to]] TO D---[1] 1. In thee, I fondly hop'd to clasp A friend, whom death alone could sever; Till envy, with malignant grasp, [i] Detach'd thee from my breast for ever. 2. True, she has forc'd thee from my _breast_, Yet, in my _heart_, thou keep'st thy seat; [ii] There, there, thine image still must rest, Until that heart shall cease to beat. 3. And, when the grave restores her dead, When life again to dust is given, On _thy dear_ breast I'll lay my head-- Without _thee! where_ would be _my Heaven?_ February, 1803. [Footnote 1: George John, 5th Earl Delawarr (1791-1869). (See _note_ 2, p. 100; see also lines "To George, Earl Delawarr," pp. 126-128.)] [Footnote i: _But envy with malignant grasp, Has torn thee from my breast for ever. [4to]] [Footnote ii: _But in my heart_. [4to]] TO CAROLINE. [i] 1. Think'st thou I saw thy beauteous eyes, Suffus'd in tears, implore to stay; And heard _unmov'd_ thy plenteous sighs, Which said far more than words can say? [ii] 2. Though keen the grief _thy_ tears exprest, [iii] When love and hope lay _both_ o'erthrown; Yet still, my girl, _this_ bleeding breast Throbb'd, with deep sorrow, as _thine own_. 3. But, when our cheeks with anguish glow'd, When _thy_ sweet lips were join'd to mine; The tears that from _my_ eyelids flow'd Were lost in those which fell from _thine_. 4. Thou could'st not feel my burning cheek, _Thy_ gushing tears had quench'd its flame, And, as thy tongue essay'd to speak, In _sighs alone_ it breath'd my name. 5. And yet, my girl, we weep in vain, In vain our fate in sighs deplore; Remembrance only can remain, But _that_, will make us weep the more. 6.