On Revisiting Harrow

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Here once engaged the stranger's view
  Young Friendship's record simply traced;
Few were her words; but yet, though few,
  Resentment's hand the line defaced.

Deeply she cut--but not erased,
  The characters were still so pain,
That Friendship once return'd, and gazed,--
  Till Memory hail'd the words again.

Repentance placed them as before;
  Forgiveness join d her gentle name;
So fair the inscription seem'd once more,
  That Friendship thought it still the same.

Thus might the Record now have been;
  But, ah, in spite of Hopes endeavour,
Or Friendships tears, Pride rush'd between
  And blotted out the line for ever.

September 1807

© George Gordon Byron