George Gordon Noel Byron

What is the end of Fame? 'tis but to fill
A certain portion of uncertain paper:
Some read more

What is the end of Fame? 'tis but to fill
A certain portion of uncertain paper:
Some liken it to climbing up a hill,
Whose summit, like all hills, is lost in vapour:
For this men write, speak, preach, and heroes kill,
And bards burn what they call their "midnight taper,"
To have, when the original is dust,
A name, a wretched picture, and worse bust.

No Sane man will dance.

No Sane man will dance.

The mellow autumn came, and with it came
The promised party, to enjoy its sweets.
The corn read more

The mellow autumn came, and with it came
The promised party, to enjoy its sweets.
The corn is cut, the manor full of game;
The pointer ranges, and the sportsman beats
In russet jacket;--lynx-like is his aim;
Full grows his bag, and wonderful his feats.
An, nutbrown partridges! An, brilliant pheasants!
And ah, ye poachers!--'Tis no sport for peasants.

Ecclesiastes said that "all is vanity,"
Most modern preachers say the same, or show it
By their read more

Ecclesiastes said that "all is vanity,"
Most modern preachers say the same, or show it
By their examples of true Christianity:
In short, all know, or very short may know it.

On, Amos Cottle!--Phoebus! what a name!

On, Amos Cottle!--Phoebus! what a name!