George Gordon Noel Byron

But owned that smile, if oft observed and near,
Waned in its mirth, and wither'd to a sneer.

But owned that smile, if oft observed and near,
Waned in its mirth, and wither'd to a sneer.

A change came o'er the spirit of my dream.

A change came o'er the spirit of my dream.

They never fail who die
In a great cause.

They never fail who die
In a great cause.

Ah, nut-brown partridges! Ah, brilliant pheasants!
And ah, ye poachers!--'Tis no sport for peasants.

Ah, nut-brown partridges! Ah, brilliant pheasants!
And ah, ye poachers!--'Tis no sport for peasants.

Music arose with its voluptuous swell,
Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again,
And all read more

Music arose with its voluptuous swell,
Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again,
And all went merry as a marriage bell.