George Gordon Noel Byron

And then he danced;--all foreigners excel
The serious Angles in the eloquence
Of pantomime;--he danced, I say read more

And then he danced;--all foreigners excel
The serious Angles in the eloquence
Of pantomime;--he danced, I say right well,
With emphasis, and also with good sense--
A thing in footing indispensable:
He danced without theatrical pretence,
Not like a ballet-master in the van
Of his drill'd nymphs, but like a gentleman.

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

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

The mellow autumn came, and with it came
The promised party, to enjoy its sweets.
The corn read more

The mellow autumn came, and with it came
The promised party, to enjoy its sweets.
The corn is cut, the manor full of game;
The pointer ranges, and the sportsman beats
In russet jacket;--lynx-like is his aim;
Full grows his bag, and wonderful his feats.
An, nutbrown partridges! An, brilliant pheasants!
And ah, ye poachers!--'Tis no sport for peasants.

Blushed like the waves of hell.

Blushed like the waves of hell.

I have not loved the world, not the world me;
I have not flatter'd its rank breath, nor bow'd
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I have not loved the world, not the world me;
I have not flatter'd its rank breath, nor bow'd
To its idolatries a patient knee.