George Gordon Noel Byron

Music arose with its voluptuous swell,
Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again,
And all read more

Music arose with its voluptuous swell,
Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again,
And all went merry as a marriage bell.

Sorrow preys upon
Its solitude, and nothing more diverts it
From its sad visions of the other read more

Sorrow preys upon
Its solitude, and nothing more diverts it
From its sad visions of the other world
Than calling it at moments back to this.
The busy have no time for tears.

"Not to admire, is all the art I know
(Plain truth, dear Murray, needs few flowers of speech)
read more

"Not to admire, is all the art I know
(Plain truth, dear Murray, needs few flowers of speech)
To make men happy, or to keep them so."
(So take it in the very words of Creech)
Thus Horace wrote we all know long ago;
And thus Pope quotes the precept to re-teach
From his translation; but had none admired,
Would Pope have sung, or Horace been inspired?

O Rome! my country! city of the soul!

O Rome! my country! city of the soul!

All human history attests
That happiness for man,--the hungry sinner!--
Since Eve ate apples, much depends on read more

All human history attests
That happiness for man,--the hungry sinner!--
Since Eve ate apples, much depends on dinner.