George Gordon Noel Byron

Oh that the desert were my dwelling-place!

Oh that the desert were my dwelling-place!

Age shakes Athena's tower, but spares gray Marathon.

Age shakes Athena's tower, but spares gray Marathon.

Maid of Athens, ere we part,
Give, oh, give me back my heart!

Maid of Athens, ere we part,
Give, oh, give me back my heart!

The truly brave,
When they behold the brave oppressed with odds,
Are touched with a desire to read more

The truly brave,
When they behold the brave oppressed with odds,
Are touched with a desire to shield and save:--
A mixture of wild beasts and demi-gods
Are they--now furious as the sweeping wave,
Now moved with pity; even as sometimes nods
The rugged tree unto the summer wind,
Compassion breathes along the savage mind.

The fatal facility of the octosyllabic verse.

The fatal facility of the octosyllabic verse.