George Gordon Noel Byron

Where the virgins are soft as the roses they twine,
And all, save the spirit of man, is divine?

Where the virgins are soft as the roses they twine,
And all, save the spirit of man, is divine?

Born in the garret, in the kitchen bred.

Born in the garret, in the kitchen bred.

Do proper homage to thine idol's eyes;
But no too humbly, or she will despise
Thee and read more

Do proper homage to thine idol's eyes;
But no too humbly, or she will despise
Thee and thy suit, though told in moving tropes:
Disguise even tenderness if thou art wise.

There is a tear for all who die,
A mourner o'er the humblest grave.
- Lord read more

There is a tear for all who die,
A mourner o'er the humblest grave.
- Lord Byron (George Gordon Noel Byron),

Ah! were I sever'd from thy side,
Where were thy friend and who my guide?
Years have read more

Ah! were I sever'd from thy side,
Where were thy friend and who my guide?
Years have not seen, Time shall not see
The hour that tears my soul from thee.