FIRST DRAFT

(From Lord Lovelace's book on Byron; the words changed are in italics 'j- He who hath hent him o'er the dead — Ere the first day of death is fled — The first dark day of iVothingness — The last of doom ^ & of distress — Before Corruption's cankering fingers Hath tinged the hue where JSeauty lingers And marked the soft & salted air That dwells with all but spirit there — The fixed yet tender lines that speak Of Peace along the placid cheek And — but for that sad shrouded eye That fires not — pleads not — weeps not — now — A7ul but for that pale chilling brow Whose touch tells of mortality And curdles to the Gazer's heart As if to him it could impart The doom he only looks upon — Yes — but for these & these alone — A moment — yet — a little hour We still might doubt the tyrant's power So fair — so calm — so softly sealed The first — last look — by Death revealed !