George Gordon Noel Byron

And circumstance, that unspiritual god,
And miscreator, makes and helps along
Our coming evils, with a critch-like read more

And circumstance, that unspiritual god,
And miscreator, makes and helps along
Our coming evils, with a critch-like rod,
Whose touch turns hope to dust--the dust we all have trod.

Just as old age is creeping on space,
And clouds come o'er the sunset of our day,
read more

Just as old age is creeping on space,
And clouds come o'er the sunset of our day,
They kindly leave us, though not quite alone,
But in good company--the gout or stone.

A man must serve his time to every trade
Save censure--critics all are ready made.
Take hackney'd read more

A man must serve his time to every trade
Save censure--critics all are ready made.
Take hackney'd jokes from Miller, got by rote,
With just enough of learning to misquote;
A mind well skill'd to find or forge a fault;
A turn for punning, call it Attic salt;
To Jeffrey go, be silent and discreet,
His pay is just ten sterling pounds per sheet;
Fear not to lie, 'twill seem a lucky hit;
Shrink not from blasphemy, 'twill pass for wit;
Care not for feeling--pass your proper jest,
And stand a critic, hated yet caress'd.

'Tis an old lesson; time approves it true,
And those who know it best, deplore it most;
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'Tis an old lesson; time approves it true,
And those who know it best, deplore it most;
When all is won that all desire to woo,
The paltry prize is hardly worth the cost.

If a man proves too clearly and convincingly to
himself . . . that a tiger is an optical read more

If a man proves too clearly and convincingly to
himself . . . that a tiger is an optical illusion--well, he will
find out he is wrong. The tiger will himself intervene in the
discussion, in a manner which will be in every sense conclusive.