George Gordon Noel Byron

But 'midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men,
To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess,
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But 'midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men,
To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess,
And roam along, the world's tired denizen,
With none who bless us, none whom we can bless.

I love the language, that soft bastard Latin,
Which melts like kisses from a female mouth.

I love the language, that soft bastard Latin,
Which melts like kisses from a female mouth.

So bright the tear in Beauty's eye,
Love half regrets to kiss it dry.

So bright the tear in Beauty's eye,
Love half regrets to kiss it dry.

Besides, they always smell of bread and butter.

Besides, they always smell of bread and butter.

When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past--
For years fleet away with the wings of the read more

When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past--
For years fleet away with the wings of the dove--
The dearest remembrance will still be the last,
Our sweetest memorial the first kiss of love.