George Gordon Noel Byron ( 10 of 329 )
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.
There was no great disparity of years,
Though much in temper; but they never clash'd,
They moved read more
There was no great disparity of years,
Though much in temper; but they never clash'd,
They moved like stars united in their spheres,
Or like the Rhone by Leman's waters wash'd,
Where mingled and yet separate appears
The river from the lake, all bluely dash'd
Through the serene and placid glassy deep,
Which fain would lull its river-child to sleep.
The tenor's voice is spoilt by affectation,
And for the bass, the beast can only bellow;
In read more
The tenor's voice is spoilt by affectation,
And for the bass, the beast can only bellow;
In fact, he had no singing education,
An ignorant, noteless, timeless, tuneless fellow.
Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow,
Such as Creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.
Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow,
Such as Creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.
'Tis an old lesson; time approves it true,
And those who know it best, deplore it most;
read more
'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.
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.
Jack was embarrassed--never hero more,
And as he knew not what to say, he swore.
Jack was embarrassed--never hero more,
And as he knew not what to say, he swore.
Weren't the last drop in the well,
As I gasp'd upon the brink,
Ere my fainting spirit read more
Weren't the last drop in the well,
As I gasp'd upon the brink,
Ere my fainting spirit fell,
'Tis to thee that I would drink.
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.
A mere court butterfly,
That flutters in the pageant of a monarch.
A mere court butterfly,
That flutters in the pageant of a monarch.
