George Gordon Noel Byron

On with the dance! let joy be unconfin'd;
No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet.

On with the dance! let joy be unconfin'd;
No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet.

In the desert a fountain is springing,
In the wide waste there still is a tree,
And read more

In the desert a fountain is springing,
In the wide waste there still is a tree,
And a bird in the solitude singing,
Which speaks to my spirit of thee.

And history with all her volumes vast,
Hath but one page.

And history with all her volumes vast,
Hath but one page.

For I am a weed,
Flung from the rock, on Ocean's foam, to sail,
Where'er the surge read more

For I am a weed,
Flung from the rock, on Ocean's foam, to sail,
Where'er the surge may sweep, the tempest's breath prevail.

Such parting break the heart they fondly hope to heal.

Such parting break the heart they fondly hope to heal.