George Gordon Noel Byron

Around his form his loose long robe was thrown,
And wrapt a breast bestowed on heaven alone.

Around his form his loose long robe was thrown,
And wrapt a breast bestowed on heaven alone.

As the lone Angler, patient man,
At Mewry-Water, or the Banne,
Leaves off, against his placid wish,
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As the lone Angler, patient man,
At Mewry-Water, or the Banne,
Leaves off, against his placid wish,
Impaling worms to torture fish.

Where may the wearied eye repose,
When gazing on the Great;
Where neither guilty glory glows,
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Where may the wearied eye repose,
When gazing on the Great;
Where neither guilty glory glows,
Nor despicable state?
Yes--one the first, the last, the best,
The Cincinnatus of the West
Whom envy dared not hate,
Bequeathed the name of Washington
To make man blush; there was but one.

I want a hero: an uncommon want,
When every year and month sends forth a new one.

I want a hero: an uncommon want,
When every year and month sends forth a new one.

But every fool describes, in these bright days,
His wondrous journey to some foreign court,
And spawns read more

But every fool describes, in these bright days,
His wondrous journey to some foreign court,
And spawns his quarto, and demands your praise,--
Death to his publisher, to him 'tis sport.