George Gordon Noel Byron

There is a tear for all who die,
A mourner o'er the humblest grave.
- Lord read more

There is a tear for all who die,
A mourner o'er the humblest grave.
- Lord Byron (George Gordon Noel Byron),

Some are soon bagg'd but some reject three dozen.
'Tis fine to see them scattering refusals
And read more

Some are soon bagg'd but some reject three dozen.
'Tis fine to see them scattering refusals
And wild dismay, o'er every angry cousin
(Friends of the party) who begin accusals,
Such as--"Unless Miss (Blank) meant to have chosen
Poor Frederick, why did she accord perusals
To his billets? Why waltz with him? Why, I pray,
Look yes least night, and yet say No to-day?"

Where the light wings of Zephyr, oppress'd with perfume,
Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gul in her bloom.

Where the light wings of Zephyr, oppress'd with perfume,
Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gul in her bloom.

Of all
The fools who flock'd to swell or see the show
Who car'd about the corpse? read more

Of all
The fools who flock'd to swell or see the show
Who car'd about the corpse? The funeral
Made the attraction, and the black the woe;
There throbb'd not there a thought which pierc'd the pall.

There comes
For ever something between us and what
We deem our happiness.

There comes
For ever something between us and what
We deem our happiness.