George Gordon Noel Byron

The image of Eternity--the throne
Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime
The monsters of the read more

The image of Eternity--the throne
Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime
The monsters of the deep are made; each zone
Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.

That each pull'd different ways with many an oath,
"Arcades ambo," id est--blackguards both.

That each pull'd different ways with many an oath,
"Arcades ambo," id est--blackguards both.

Ye tuneful cobblers! still your notes prolong,
Compose at once a slipper and a song;
So shall read more

Ye tuneful cobblers! still your notes prolong,
Compose at once a slipper and a song;
So shall the fair your handiwork peruse,
Your sonnets sure shall please--perhaps your shoes.

Just as old age is creeping on space,
And clouds come o'er the sunset of our day,
read more

Just as old age is creeping on space,
And clouds come o'er the sunset of our day,
They kindly leave us, though not quite alone,
But in good company--the gout or stone.

Of all tales 'tis the saddest--and more sad,
Because it makes us smile.

Of all tales 'tis the saddest--and more sad,
Because it makes us smile.