George Gordon Noel Byron

When falls the Coliseum, Rome shall fall;
And when Rome falls--the World.

When falls the Coliseum, Rome shall fall;
And when Rome falls--the World.

Then farewell, Horace; whom I hated so,
Not for thy faults, but mine.

Then farewell, Horace; whom I hated so,
Not for thy faults, but mine.

'Tis pleasant purchasing our fellow-creatures;
And all are to be sold, if you consider
Their passions, and read more

'Tis pleasant purchasing our fellow-creatures;
And all are to be sold, if you consider
Their passions, and are dext'rous; some by features
Are brought up, others by a warlike leader;
Some by a place--as tend their years or natures;
The most by ready cash--but all have prices,
From crowns to kicks, according to their vices.

Herself the solitary scion left
Of a time-honour'd race.

Herself the solitary scion left
Of a time-honour'd race.

Earth! render back from out thy breast
A remnant of our Spartan dead!
Of the three hundred read more

Earth! render back from out thy breast
A remnant of our Spartan dead!
Of the three hundred grant but three,
To make a new Thermopylae!