George Gordon Noel Byron

Oh, for a forty-parson power to chant
Thy praise, Hypocrisy! Oh, for a hymn
Loud as the read more

Oh, for a forty-parson power to chant
Thy praise, Hypocrisy! Oh, for a hymn
Loud as the virtues thou dost loudly vaunt,
Not practise!

Who doth not feel, until his failing sight
Faints into dimness with its own delight,
His changing read more

Who doth not feel, until his failing sight
Faints into dimness with its own delight,
His changing cheek, his sinking heart confess,
The might--the majesty of Loveliness?

Cooped in their winged sea-girt citadel.

Cooped in their winged sea-girt citadel.

Of all the horrid, hideous notes of woe,
Sadder than owl-songs or the midnight blast;
Is that read more

Of all the horrid, hideous notes of woe,
Sadder than owl-songs or the midnight blast;
Is that portentous phrase, "I told you so."

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.