George Gordon Noel Byron

The dome of Thought, the palace of the Soul.

The dome of Thought, the palace of the Soul.

But now being lifted into high society,
And having pick'd up several odds and ends
Of free read more

But now being lifted into high society,
And having pick'd up several odds and ends
Of free thoughts in his travels for variety,
He deem'd, being in a lone isle, among friends,
That without any danger of a riot, he
Might for long lying make himself amends;
And singing as he sung in his warm youth,
Agree to a short armistice with truth.

As soon
Seek roses in December--ice in June,
Hope, constancy in wind, or corn in chaff;
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As soon
Seek roses in December--ice in June,
Hope, constancy in wind, or corn in chaff;
Believe a woman or an epitaph,
Or any other thing that's false, before
You trust in critics.

Let's not unman each other--part at once;
All farewells should be sudden, when forever,
Else they make read more

Let's not unman each other--part at once;
All farewells should be sudden, when forever,
Else they make an eternity of moments,
And clog the last sad sands of life with tears.

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?