George Gordon Noel Byron

I've just learned about his illness. Let's hope it's nothing
trivial.

I've just learned about his illness. Let's hope it's nothing
trivial.

Such is your cold coquette, who can't say "No,"
And won't say "Yes," and keeps you on and off-ing
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Such is your cold coquette, who can't say "No,"
And won't say "Yes," and keeps you on and off-ing
On a lee-shore, till it begins to blow,
Then sees your heart wreck'd, with an inward scoffing.

My boat is on the shore,
And my bark is on the sea:
But, before I go, read more

My boat is on the shore,
And my bark is on the sea:
But, before I go, Tom Moore,
Here's a double health to thee!

A mighty mass of brick, and smoke, and shipping,
Dirty and dusty, but as wide as eye
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A mighty mass of brick, and smoke, and shipping,
Dirty and dusty, but as wide as eye
Could reach, with here and there a sail just skipping
In sight, then lost amidst the forestry
Of masts; a wilderness of steeples peeping
On tiptoe through their sea-coal canopy;
A huge, dun cupola, like a foolscap crown
On a fool's head--and there is London Town.

In Venice, Tass's echoes are no more,
And silent rows the songless gondolier;
Her palaces are crumbling read more

In Venice, Tass's echoes are no more,
And silent rows the songless gondolier;
Her palaces are crumbling to the shore,
And music meets not always now the ear.