George Gordon Noel Byron

O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea,
Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free,
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O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea,
Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free,
Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam,
Survey our empire, and behold our home!

She bears her down majestically near,
Speed on her prow, and terror in her tier.

She bears her down majestically near,
Speed on her prow, and terror in her tier.

Nor all that heralds rake from coffin'd clay,
Nor florid prose, nor honied lies of rhyme,
Can read more

Nor all that heralds rake from coffin'd clay,
Nor florid prose, nor honied lies of rhyme,
Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a crime.

Soprano, basso, even the contra-alto
Wished him five fathom under the Rialto.

Soprano, basso, even the contra-alto
Wished him five fathom under the Rialto.

From the mingled strength of shade and light
A new creation rises to my sight,
Such heav'nly read more

From the mingled strength of shade and light
A new creation rises to my sight,
Such heav'nly figures from his pencil flow,
So warm with light his blended colors glow.
. . . .
The glowing portraits, fresh from life, that bring
Home to our hearts the truth from which they spring.