George Gordon Noel Byron

So sweet the blush of bashfulness,
E'en pity scarce can wish it less!

So sweet the blush of bashfulness,
E'en pity scarce can wish it less!

And angling too, that solitary vice,
What Izaak Walton sings or says:
The quaint, old, cruel coxcomb, read more

And angling too, that solitary vice,
What Izaak Walton sings or says:
The quaint, old, cruel coxcomb, in his gullet
Should have a hook, and a small trout to pull it.

He left a Corsair's name to other times,
Linked with one virtue, and a thousand crimes.

He left a Corsair's name to other times,
Linked with one virtue, and a thousand crimes.

Solitary trees, if they grow at all, grow strong.

Solitary trees, if they grow at all, grow strong.

"Yet doth he live!" exclaims th' impatient heir,
And sighs for sables which he must not wear.

"Yet doth he live!" exclaims th' impatient heir,
And sighs for sables which he must not wear.