George Gordon Noel Byron

Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains;
They crown'd him long ago
On a throne of rocks, read more

Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains;
They crown'd him long ago
On a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds,
With a diadem of snow.

Maidens, like moths, are ever caught, by glare,
And Mammon wins his way where seraphs might despair.

Maidens, like moths, are ever caught, by glare,
And Mammon wins his way where seraphs might despair.

But yet she listen'd--'tis enough--
Who listens once will listen twice;
Her heart, be sure, is not read more

But yet she listen'd--'tis enough--
Who listens once will listen twice;
Her heart, be sure, is not of ice,
And one refusal no rebuff.

He ne'er presumed to make an error clearer;--
In short, there never was a better hearer.

He ne'er presumed to make an error clearer;--
In short, there never was a better hearer.

Yon Sun that sets upon the sea
We follow in his flight;
Farewell awhile to him and read more

Yon Sun that sets upon the sea
We follow in his flight;
Farewell awhile to him and thee,
My native land--Good Night!