George Gordon Noel Byron

That all-softening, overpowering knell,
The tocsin of the soul--the dinner bell.

That all-softening, overpowering knell,
The tocsin of the soul--the dinner bell.

I die,--but first I have possess'd,
And come what may, I have been bless'd.

I die,--but first I have possess'd,
And come what may, I have been bless'd.

How chang'd since last her speaking eye
Glanc'd gladness round the glitt'ring room,
Where high-born men were read more

How chang'd since last her speaking eye
Glanc'd gladness round the glitt'ring room,
Where high-born men were proud to wait--
Where Beauty watched to imitate.

The nympholepsy of some fond despair.

The nympholepsy of some fond despair.

Father! no prophet's laws I seek,--
Thy laws in Nature's works appear;--
I own myself corrupt and read more

Father! no prophet's laws I seek,--
Thy laws in Nature's works appear;--
I own myself corrupt and weak,
Yet will I pray, for thou wilt hear.