George Gordon Noel Byron

There's music in the sighing of a reed;
There's music in the gushing of a rill;
There's read more

There's music in the sighing of a reed;
There's music in the gushing of a rill;
There's music in all things, if men had ears:
Their earth is but an echo of the spheres.

There's not a sea the passenger e'er pukes in,
Turns up more dangerous breakers than the Euxine.

There's not a sea the passenger e'er pukes in,
Turns up more dangerous breakers than the Euxine.

But words are things, and a small drop of ink,
Falling, like dew, upon a thought produces
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But words are things, and a small drop of ink,
Falling, like dew, upon a thought produces
That which makes thousands, perhaps millions think.

Cervantes smiled Spain's chivalry away;
A single laugh demolished the right arm
Of his own country;--seldom since read more

Cervantes smiled Spain's chivalry away;
A single laugh demolished the right arm
Of his own country;--seldom since that day
Has Spain had heroes.

There is a tide in the affairs of women
Which, taken at the flood, leads--God knows where.

There is a tide in the affairs of women
Which, taken at the flood, leads--God knows where.