George Gordon Noel Byron

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.

And if I laugh at any mortal thing,
'Tis that I may not weep.

And if I laugh at any mortal thing,
'Tis that I may not weep.

Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea!
Jehovah hath triumphed--his people are free.
- Lord read more

Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea!
Jehovah hath triumphed--his people are free.
- Lord Byron (George Gordon Noel Byron),

A lovely being, scarcely formed or moulded,
A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded.

A lovely being, scarcely formed or moulded,
A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded.

From thy own smile I snatched the snake.

From thy own smile I snatched the snake.