George Gordon Noel Byron

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

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

The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,
The Moon, their Mistress, had expired before;
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The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,
The Moon, their Mistress, had expired before;
The winds were wither'd in the stagnant air,
And the clouds perish'd; darkness had no need
Of aid from them--she was the Universe.

She had a good opinion of advice,
Like all who give and eke receive it gratis,
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She had a good opinion of advice,
Like all who give and eke receive it gratis,
For which small thanks are still the market price,
Even where the article at highest rate is.

"Farewell!"
For in that word--that fatal word--howe'er
We promise--hope--believe--there breathes despair.

"Farewell!"
For in that word--that fatal word--howe'er
We promise--hope--believe--there breathes despair.

Oh, Christ! it is a goodly sight to see
What Heaven hath done for this delicious land!

Oh, Christ! it is a goodly sight to see
What Heaven hath done for this delicious land!