George Gordon Noel Byron

That each pull'd different ways with many an oath,
"Arcades ambo," id est--blackguards both.

That each pull'd different ways with many an oath,
"Arcades ambo," id est--blackguards both.

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."

Fair Greece! and relic of departed worth!
Immortal, though no more; though fallen great!

Fair Greece! and relic of departed worth!
Immortal, though no more; though fallen great!

The light of love, the purity of grace,
The mind, the Music breathing from her face,
The read more

The light of love, the purity of grace,
The mind, the Music breathing from her face,
The heart whose softness harmonized the whole,
And, oh! the eye was in itself a Soul!

Come, lay thy head upon my breast,
And I will kiss thee into rest.

Come, lay thy head upon my breast,
And I will kiss thee into rest.