George Gordon Noel Byron ( 10 of 329 )
Let us have wine and woman, mirth and laughter,
Sermons and soda-water the day after.
Let us have wine and woman, mirth and laughter,
Sermons and soda-water the day after.
It was the cooling hour, just when the rounded
Red sun sinks down behind the azure hill,
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It was the cooling hour, just when the rounded
Red sun sinks down behind the azure hill,
Which then seems as if the whole earth is bounded,
Circling all nature, hush'd, and dim, and still,
With the far mountain-crescent half surrounded
On one side, and the deep sea calm and chill
Upon the other, and the rosy sky
With one star sparkling through it like an eye.
But owned that smile, if oft observed and near,
Waned in its mirth, and wither'd to a sneer.
But owned that smile, if oft observed and near,
Waned in its mirth, and wither'd to a sneer.
For talk six times with the same single lady,
And you may get the wedding dress ready.
For talk six times with the same single lady,
And you may get the wedding dress ready.
What deep wounds ever closed without a scar?
The hearts bleed longest, and but heal to wear
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What deep wounds ever closed without a scar?
The hearts bleed longest, and but heal to wear
That which disfigures it.
When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past--
For years fleet away with the wings of the read more
When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past--
For years fleet away with the wings of the dove--
The dearest remembrance will still be the last,
Our sweetest memorial the first kiss of love.
And wrinkles, the d--d democrats, won't flatter.
And wrinkles, the d--d democrats, won't flatter.
And gazed around them to the left and right
With the prophetic eye of appetite.
And gazed around them to the left and right
With the prophetic eye of appetite.
Hot from the hands promiscuously applied,
Round the slight waist, or down the glowing side.
Hot from the hands promiscuously applied,
Round the slight waist, or down the glowing side.
Mark! where his carnage and his conquests cease,
He makes a solitude and calls it--peace!
Mark! where his carnage and his conquests cease,
He makes a solitude and calls it--peace!
