George Gordon Noel Byron

'Tis an old lesson; time approves it true,
And those who know it best, deplore it most;
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'Tis an old lesson; time approves it true,
And those who know it best, deplore it most;
When all is won that all desire to woo,
The paltry prize is hardly worth the cost.

He left a Corsair's name to other times,
Linked with one virtue, and a thousand crimes.

He left a Corsair's name to other times,
Linked with one virtue, and a thousand crimes.

The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,
The Moon, their Mistress, had expired before;
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The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,
The Moon, their Mistress, had expired before;
The winds were wither'd in the stagnant air,
And the clouds perish'd; darkness had no need
Of aid from them--she was the Universe.

'Tis strange the mind, that very fiery particle,
Should let itself be snuff'd out by an article.

'Tis strange the mind, that very fiery particle,
Should let itself be snuff'd out by an article.

Here's a sigh to those who love me,
And a smile to those who hate;
And whatever read more

Here's a sigh to those who love me,
And a smile to those who hate;
And whatever sky's above me,
Here's a heart for every fate.