George Gordon Noel Byron

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.

As soon
Seek roses in December--ice in June,
Hope, constancy in wind, or corn in chaff;
read more

As soon
Seek roses in December--ice in June,
Hope, constancy in wind, or corn in chaff;
Believe a woman or an epitaph,
Or any other thing that's false, before
You trust in critics.

So the struck eagle, stretched upon the plain,
No more through rolling clouds to soar again,
Viewed read more

So the struck eagle, stretched upon the plain,
No more through rolling clouds to soar again,
Viewed his own feather on the fatal dart,
And wing'd the shaft that quivered in his heart.

By all that's good and glorious.

By all that's good and glorious.

Yon Sun that sets upon the sea
We follow in his flight;
Farewell awhile to him and read more

Yon Sun that sets upon the sea
We follow in his flight;
Farewell awhile to him and thee,
My native land--Good Night!