George Gordon Noel Byron ( 10 of 329 )
Like a lovely tree
She grew to womanhood, and between whiles
Rejected several suitors, just to learn
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Like a lovely tree
She grew to womanhood, and between whiles
Rejected several suitors, just to learn
How to accept a better in his turn.
Of all
The fools who flock'd to swell or see the show
Who car'd about the corpse? read more
Of all
The fools who flock'd to swell or see the show
Who car'd about the corpse? The funeral
Made the attraction, and the black the woe;
There throbb'd not there a thought which pierc'd the pall.
Put himself upon his good behavior.
Put himself upon his good behavior.
I die,--but first I have possess'd,
And come what may, I have been bless'd.
I die,--but first I have possess'd,
And come what may, I have been bless'd.
And if I laugh at any mortal thing,
'Tis that I may not weep.
And if I laugh at any mortal thing,
'Tis that I may not weep.
Ah, nut-brown partridges! Ah, brilliant pheasants!
And ah, ye poachers!--'Tis no sport for peasants.
Ah, nut-brown partridges! Ah, brilliant pheasants!
And ah, ye poachers!--'Tis no sport for peasants.
The heart ran o'er
With silent worship of the great of old!--
The dead, but sceptred sovereigns, read more
The heart ran o'er
With silent worship of the great of old!--
The dead, but sceptred sovereigns, who still rule
Our spirits from their urns.
But every fool describes, in these bright days,
His wondrous journey to some foreign court,
And spawns read more
But every fool describes, in these bright days,
His wondrous journey to some foreign court,
And spawns his quarto, and demands your praise,--
Death to his publisher, to him 'tis sport.
'Tis an old lesson; time approves it true,
And those who know it best, deplore it most;
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'Tis an old lesson; time approves it true,
And those who know it best, deplore it most;
When all is won that all desire to woo,
The paltry prize is hardly worth the cost.
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.