Byron's Poetical Works, Volume 1

TO ELLEN. [i]

  Oh! might I kiss those eyes of fire,
  A million scarce would quench desire;
  Still would I steep my lips in bliss,
  And dwell an age on every kiss;
  Nor then my soul should sated be,
  Still would I kiss and cling to thee: 
  Nought should my kiss from thine dissever,
  Still would we kiss and kiss for ever;
  E’en though the numbers did exceed

  The yellow harvest’s countless seed;
  To part would be a vain endeavour: 
  Could I desist?—­ah! never—­never.

November 16, 1806.

[Footnote 1:  From a note in Byron’s copy of Catullus (now in the possession of Mr. Murray), it is evident that these lines are based on Carm. xlviii., ’Mellitos oculos tuos, Juventi’.]

[Footnote i:  ‘To Anna’.

[Footnote ii:  ‘E’en though the number’. [4to.  ’Three first Editions’.]]

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