George Gordon Noel Byron

Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow,
Such as Creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.

Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow,
Such as Creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.

"Darkly, deeply, beautifully blue,"
As some one somewhere sings about the sky.

"Darkly, deeply, beautifully blue,"
As some one somewhere sings about the sky.

Father of Light! great God of Heaven!
Hear'st thou the accents of despair?
Can guilt like man's read more

Father of Light! great God of Heaven!
Hear'st thou the accents of despair?
Can guilt like man's be e'er forgiven?
Can vice atone for crimes by prayer?

Some are soon bagg'd but some reject three dozen.
'Tis fine to see them scattering refusals
And read more

Some are soon bagg'd but some reject three dozen.
'Tis fine to see them scattering refusals
And wild dismay, o'er every angry cousin
(Friends of the party) who begin accusals,
Such as--"Unless Miss (Blank) meant to have chosen
Poor Frederick, why did she accord perusals
To his billets? Why waltz with him? Why, I pray,
Look yes least night, and yet say No to-day?"

Yet still there whispers the small voice within,
Heard through Gain's silence, and o'er Glory's din;
Whatever read more

Yet still there whispers the small voice within,
Heard through Gain's silence, and o'er Glory's din;
Whatever creed be taught or land be trod,
Man's conscience is the oracle of God.