George Gordon Noel Byron

Eternity forbids thee to forget.

Eternity forbids thee to forget.

Not much he kens, I ween, of woman's breast,
Who thinks that wanton thing is won by sighs.

Not much he kens, I ween, of woman's breast,
Who thinks that wanton thing is won by sighs.

A would-be satirist, a hired buffoon,
A monthly scribbler of some low lampoon,
Condemn'd to drudge, the read more

A would-be satirist, a hired buffoon,
A monthly scribbler of some low lampoon,
Condemn'd to drudge, the meanest of the mean,
And furbish falsehoods for a magazine.

Oh, Mirth and Innocence! Oh, Milk and Water!
Ye happy mixture of more happy days!

Oh, Mirth and Innocence! Oh, Milk and Water!
Ye happy mixture of more happy days!

Of all the horrid, hideous notes of woe,
Sadder than owl-songs or the midnight blast;
Is that read more

Of all the horrid, hideous notes of woe,
Sadder than owl-songs or the midnight blast;
Is that portentous phrase, "I told you so."