George Gordon Noel Byron

Jack was embarrassed--never hero more,
And as he knew not what to say, he swore.

Jack was embarrassed--never hero more,
And as he knew not what to say, he swore.

Mark! where his carnage and his conquests cease,
He makes a solitude and calls it--peace!

Mark! where his carnage and his conquests cease,
He makes a solitude and calls it--peace!

How chang'd since last her speaking eye
Glanc'd gladness round the glitt'ring room,
Where high-born men were read more

How chang'd since last her speaking eye
Glanc'd gladness round the glitt'ring room,
Where high-born men were proud to wait--
Where Beauty watched to imitate.

Endearing Waltz--to thy more melting tune
Bow Irish jig, and ancient rigadoon.
Scotch reels, avaunt! and country-dance read more

Endearing Waltz--to thy more melting tune
Bow Irish jig, and ancient rigadoon.
Scotch reels, avaunt! and country-dance forego
Your future claims to each fantastic toe!
Waltz--Waltz alone--both legs and arms demands,
Liberal of feet, and lavish of her hands.

The languages, especially the dead,
The sciences, and most of all the abstruse,
The arts, at least read more

The languages, especially the dead,
The sciences, and most of all the abstruse,
The arts, at least all such as could be said
To be the most remote from common use,
In all these he was much and deeply read.