George Gordon Noel Byron

The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece!
Where burning Sappho loved and sung.
Where grew the read more

The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece!
Where burning Sappho loved and sung.
Where grew the arts of war and peace,--
Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung!
Eternal summer gilds them yet,
But all, except their sun, is set.

Who track the steps of Glory to the grave.

Who track the steps of Glory to the grave.

"Not to admire, is all the art I know
(Plain truth, dear Murray, needs few flowers of speech)
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"Not to admire, is all the art I know
(Plain truth, dear Murray, needs few flowers of speech)
To make men happy, or to keep them so."
(So take it in the very words of Creech)
Thus Horace wrote we all know long ago;
And thus Pope quotes the precept to re-teach
From his translation; but had none admired,
Would Pope have sung, or Horace been inspired?

What is the worst of woes that wait on age?
What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow?
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What is the worst of woes that wait on age?
What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow?
To view each love one blotted from life's page,
And be alone on earth as I am now.

So bright the tear in Beauty's eye,
Love half regrets to kiss it dry.

So bright the tear in Beauty's eye,
Love half regrets to kiss it dry.