George Gordon Noel Byron

Think'st thou there is no tyranny but that
Of blood and chains? The despotism of vice--
The read more

Think'st thou there is no tyranny but that
Of blood and chains? The despotism of vice--
The weakness and the wickedness of luxury--
The negligence--the apathy--the evils
Of sensual sloth--produces ten thousand tyrants,
Whose delegated cruelty surpasses
The worst acts of one energetic master,
However harsh and hard in his own bearing.

Man, being reasonable, must get drunk;
The best of life is but intoxication:
Glory, the grape, love, read more

Man, being reasonable, must get drunk;
The best of life is but intoxication:
Glory, the grape, love, gold, in these are sunk
The hopes of all men and of every nation;
Without their sap, how branchless were the trunk
Of life's strange tree, so fruitful on occasion:
But to return,--Get very drunk; and when
You wake with headache, you shall see what then.

Such is your cold coquette, who can't say "No,"
And won't say "Yes," and keeps you on and off-ing
read more

Such is your cold coquette, who can't say "No,"
And won't say "Yes," and keeps you on and off-ing
On a lee-shore, till it begins to blow,
Then sees your heart wreck'd, with an inward scoffing.

She walks in beauty like the night
Of cloudless chimes and starry skies;
And all that's best read more

She walks in beauty like the night
Of cloudless chimes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

He left a Corsair's name to other times,
Linked with one virtue, and a thousand crimes.

He left a Corsair's name to other times,
Linked with one virtue, and a thousand crimes.