George Gordon Noel Byron

Better to sink beneath the shock
Than moulder piecemeal on the rock!

Better to sink beneath the shock
Than moulder piecemeal on the rock!

Ancient of days! august Athena! where,
Where are thy men of might? thy grand in soul?
Gone--glimmering read more

Ancient of days! august Athena! where,
Where are thy men of might? thy grand in soul?
Gone--glimmering through the dream of things that were;
First in the race that led to glory's goal,
They won, and pass'd away--Is this the whole?

By all that's good and glorious.

By all that's good and glorious.

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

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

Mark! where his carnage and his conquests cease,
He makes a solitude and calls it--peace!

Mark! where his carnage and his conquests cease,
He makes a solitude and calls it--peace!