George Gordon Noel Byron

Dim with the mist of years, gray flits the shade of power.

Dim with the mist of years, gray flits the shade of power.

Ah! happy years! once more who would not be a boy!

Ah! happy years! once more who would not be a boy!

Such hath it been--shall be--beneath the sun
The many still must labour for the one.

Such hath it been--shall be--beneath the sun
The many still must labour for the one.

There's not a sea the passenger e'er pukes in,
Turns up more dangerous breakers than the Euxine.

There's not a sea the passenger e'er pukes in,
Turns up more dangerous breakers than the Euxine.

On with the dance! let joy be unconfin'd;
No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet.

On with the dance! let joy be unconfin'd;
No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet.