George Gordon Noel Byron

On, Amos Cottle!--Phoebus! what a name!

On, Amos Cottle!--Phoebus! what a name!

For florid prose, nor honied lies of rhyme,
Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a crime.

For florid prose, nor honied lies of rhyme,
Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a crime.

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.

The heart ran o'er
With silent worship of the great of old!--
The dead, but sceptred sovereigns, read more

The heart ran o'er
With silent worship of the great of old!--
The dead, but sceptred sovereigns, who still rule
Our spirits from their urns.

What want these outlaws conquerors should have
But History's purchased page to call them great?

What want these outlaws conquerors should have
But History's purchased page to call them great?