George Gordon Noel Byron

All Heaven and Earth are still, though not in sleep,
But breathless, as we grow when feeling most.

All Heaven and Earth are still, though not in sleep,
But breathless, as we grow when feeling most.

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.

I tell him, if a clergyman, he lies!
If captains the remark, or critics, make,
Why they read more

I tell him, if a clergyman, he lies!
If captains the remark, or critics, make,
Why they lie also--under a mistake.

Imperial Waltz! imported from the Rhine
(Famed for the growth of pedigrees and wine),
Long be thine read more

Imperial Waltz! imported from the Rhine
(Famed for the growth of pedigrees and wine),
Long be thine import from all duty free,
And hock itself be less esteem'd than thee.

I am bound to furnish my antagonists with arguments, but not with
comprehension.

I am bound to furnish my antagonists with arguments, but not with
comprehension.