George Gordon Noel Byron

A schoolboy's tale, the wonder of an hour!

A schoolboy's tale, the wonder of an hour!

Cooped in their winged sea-girt citadel.

Cooped in their winged sea-girt citadel.

Rough Johnson, the great moralist.

Rough Johnson, the great moralist.

Where may the wearied eye repose,
When gazing on the Great;
Where neither guilty glory glows,
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Where may the wearied eye repose,
When gazing on the Great;
Where neither guilty glory glows,
Nor despicable state?
Yes--one the first, the last, the best,
The Cincinnatus of the West
Whom envy dared not hate,
Bequeathed the name of Washington
To make man blush; there was but one.

What exile from himself can flee?
To zones, though more and more remote,
Still, still pursues, where'er read more

What exile from himself can flee?
To zones, though more and more remote,
Still, still pursues, where'er I be,
The blight of life--the demon Thought.