George Gordon Noel Byron

I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs;
A palace and a prison on each hand;
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I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs;
A palace and a prison on each hand;
I saw from out the wave of her structure's rise
As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand:
A thousand years their cloudy wings expand
Around me, and a dying Glory smiles
O'er the far times, when many a subject land
Look'd to the winged Lion's marble pines,
Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles.

I have a passion for the name of "Mary,"
For once it was a magic sound to me,
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I have a passion for the name of "Mary,"
For once it was a magic sound to me,
And still it half calls up the realms of fairy,
Where I beheld what never was to be.

And whispering, "I will ne'er consent," consented.

And whispering, "I will ne'er consent," consented.

Be hypocritical, be cautious, be
Not what you seem but always what you see.

Be hypocritical, be cautious, be
Not what you seem but always what you see.

Pure friendship's well-feigned blush.

Pure friendship's well-feigned blush.