Explore "If Sometimes in the Haunts of Men" by Lord Byron on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
If sometimes in the haunts of men / Thine image from my breast may fade, / The lonely hour presents again / The semblance of thy gentle shade: / And now that sad and silent hour / Thus much of thee can still restore, / And sorrow unobserved may pour / The plaint she dare not speak before.
Oh, pardon that in crowds awhile / I waste one thought I owe to thee, / And self? condemn'd, appear to smile, / Unfaithful to thy memory: / Nor deem that memory less dear, / That then I seem not to repine; / I would not fools should overhear / One sigh that should be wholly thine.