George Gordon Noel Byron

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.

'Tis strange the mind, that very fiery particle,
Should let itself be snuff'd out by an article.

'Tis strange the mind, that very fiery particle,
Should let itself be snuff'd out by an article.

Maid of Athens, ere we part,
Give, oh, give me back my heart!

Maid of Athens, ere we part,
Give, oh, give me back my heart!

Heroic, stoic Cato, the sententious,
Who lent his lady to his friend Hortensius.

Heroic, stoic Cato, the sententious,
Who lent his lady to his friend Hortensius.

The light of love, the purity of grace,
The mind, the Music breathing from her face,
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The light of love, the purity of grace,
The mind, the Music breathing from her face,
The heart whose softness harmonized the whole,
And, oh! the eye was in itself a Soul!