George Gordon Noel Byron

And wrinkles, the d--d democrats, won't flatter.

And wrinkles, the d--d democrats, won't flatter.

But words are things, and a small drop of ink,
Falling, like dew, upon a thought produces
read more

But words are things, and a small drop of ink,
Falling, like dew, upon a thought produces
That which makes thousands, perhaps millions think.

May Moorland weavers boast Pindaric skill,
And tailors' lays be longer than their bill!
While punctual beaux read more

May Moorland weavers boast Pindaric skill,
And tailors' lays be longer than their bill!
While punctual beaux reward the grateful notes,
And pay for poems--when they pay for coats.

There comes
For ever something between us and what
We deem our happiness.

There comes
For ever something between us and what
We deem our happiness.

Ah! happy years! once more who would not be a boy!

Ah! happy years! once more who would not be a boy!