George Gordon Noel Byron

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?

Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains;
They crown'd him long ago
On a throne of rocks, read more

Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains;
They crown'd him long ago
On a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds,
With a diadem of snow.

And to his eye
There was but one beloved face on earth,
And that was shining on read more

And to his eye
There was but one beloved face on earth,
And that was shining on him.

And both were young, and one was beautiful.

And both were young, and one was beautiful.

Oh, who can tell, save he whose heart hath tried?

Oh, who can tell, save he whose heart hath tried?