George Gordon Noel Byron

Oh, for a forty-parson power to chant
Thy praise, Hypocrisy! Oh, for a hymn
Loud as the read more

Oh, for a forty-parson power to chant
Thy praise, Hypocrisy! Oh, for a hymn
Loud as the virtues thou dost loudly vaunt,
Not practise!

Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell--
Then shriek'd the timid, and stood still the brave,--
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Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell--
Then shriek'd the timid, and stood still the brave,--
Then some leap'd overboard with fearful yell,
As eager to anticipate their grave.

With eyes that look'd into the very soul--
. . . .
Bright--and as black and burning read more

With eyes that look'd into the very soul--
. . . .
Bright--and as black and burning as coal.

A lady with her daughters or her nieces,
Shines like a guinea and seven shilling pieces.

A lady with her daughters or her nieces,
Shines like a guinea and seven shilling pieces.

Smiles form the channels of a future tear.

Smiles form the channels of a future tear.