George Gordon Noel Byron

Such is your cold coquette, who can't say "No,"
And won't say "Yes," and keeps you on and off-ing
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Such is your cold coquette, who can't say "No,"
And won't say "Yes," and keeps you on and off-ing
On a lee-shore, till it begins to blow,
Then sees your heart wreck'd, with an inward scoffing.

I have a passion for the name of "Mary,"
For once it was a magic sound to me,
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I have a passion for the name of "Mary,"
For once it was a magic sound to me,
And still it half calls up the realms of fairy,
Where I beheld what never was to be.

There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away.
- Lord Byron (George read more

There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away.
- Lord Byron (George Gordon Noel Byron),

In Venice, Tass's echoes are no more,
And silent rows the songless gondolier;
Her palaces are crumbling read more

In Venice, Tass's echoes are no more,
And silent rows the songless gondolier;
Her palaces are crumbling to the shore,
And music meets not always now the ear.

I have not loved the world, not the world me;
I have not flatter'd its rank breath, nor bow'd
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I have not loved the world, not the world me;
I have not flatter'd its rank breath, nor bow'd
To its idolatries a patient knee.