The feelings that agitated his bosom during this farewell visit, when
he beheld round him objects dear to his pride, and dear to his juvenile
recollections, but of which the narrowness of his fortune would not
permit him to retain possession, may be gathered from a passage in a
poetical epistle, written to his sister in after years:
I did remind you of our own dear lake
By the old hall, _which may be mine no more;_
Leman's is fair; but think not I forsake
The sweet remembrance of a dearer shore:
Sad havoc Time must with my memory make
Ere _that_ or _thou_ can fade these eyes before;
Though, like all things which I have loved, they are
Resign'd for ever, or divided far.
I feel almost at times as I have felt
In happy childhood; trees, and flowers, and brooks.
Which do remember me of where I dwelt
Ere my young mind was sacrificed to books,
Come as of yore upon me, and can melt
My heart with recognition, of their looks;
And even at moments I would think I see
Some living things I love--but none like thee."
I searched the grove for some time, before I found the tree on which
Lord Byron had left his frail memorial.
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