George Gordon Noel Byron

Then farewell, Horace; whom I hated so,
Not for thy faults, but mine.

Then farewell, Horace; whom I hated so,
Not for thy faults, but mine.

Nor all that heralds rake from coffin'd clay,
Nor florid prose, nor honied lies of rhyme,
Can read more

Nor all that heralds rake from coffin'd clay,
Nor florid prose, nor honied lies of rhyme,
Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a crime.

Hereditary bondsmen! Know ye not
Who would be free themselves must strike the blow?

Hereditary bondsmen! Know ye not
Who would be free themselves must strike the blow?

Dead scandals form good subjects for dissection.

Dead scandals form good subjects for dissection.

Such hath it been--shall be--beneath the sun
The many still must labour for the one.

Such hath it been--shall be--beneath the sun
The many still must labour for the one.