George Gordon Noel Byron

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!

It is the hour when from the boughs
The nightingale's high note is heard;
It is the read more

It is the hour when from the boughs
The nightingale's high note is heard;
It is the hour when lovers' vows
Seem sweet in every whispered word;
And gentle winds, and waters near,
Make music to the lonely ear.
Each flower the dews have lightly wet,
And in the sky the stars are met,
And on the wave is deeper blue,
And on the leaf a browner hue,
And in the heaven that clear obscure,
So softly dark, and darkly pure.
Which follows the decline of day,
As twilight melts beneath the moon away.

But what is happiness except the simple harmony between a man and
the life he leads?

But what is happiness except the simple harmony between a man and
the life he leads?

'Tis pleasing to be school'd in a strange tongue
By female lips and eyes--that is, I mean,
read more

'Tis pleasing to be school'd in a strange tongue
By female lips and eyes--that is, I mean,
When both the teacher and the taught are young,
As was the case, at least, where I have been;
They smile so when one's right; and when one's wrong
They smile still more.

And to his eye
There was but one beloved face on earth,
And that was shining on read more

And to his eye
There was but one beloved face on earth,
And that was shining on him.