George Gordon Noel Byron ( 10 of 329 )
All human history attests
That happiness for man,--the hungry sinner!--
Since Eve ate apples, much depends on read more
All human history attests
That happiness for man,--the hungry sinner!--
Since Eve ate apples, much depends on dinner.
His speech was a fine sample, on the whole,
Of rhetoric, which the learn'd call "rigmarole."
His speech was a fine sample, on the whole,
Of rhetoric, which the learn'd call "rigmarole."
But yet she listen'd--'tis enough--
Who listens once will listen twice;
Her heart, be sure, is not read more
But yet she listen'd--'tis enough--
Who listens once will listen twice;
Her heart, be sure, is not of ice,
And one refusal no rebuff.
Ah! happy years! once more who would not be a boy!
Ah! happy years! once more who would not be a boy!
Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean--roll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain;
Man read more
Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean--roll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain;
Man marks the earth with ruin--his control
Stops with the shore.
I tell him, if a clergyman, he lies!
If captains the remark, or critics, make,
Why they read more
I tell him, if a clergyman, he lies!
If captains the remark, or critics, make,
Why they lie also--under a mistake.
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.
There's not a sea the passenger e'er pukes in,
Turns up more dangerous breakers than the Euxine.
There's not a sea the passenger e'er pukes in,
Turns up more dangerous breakers than the Euxine.
He left a Corsair's name to other times,
Linked with one virtue, and a thousand crimes.
He left a Corsair's name to other times,
Linked with one virtue, and a thousand crimes.
My heart is feminine, nor can forget--
To all, except one image, madly blind;
So shakes the read more
My heart is feminine, nor can forget--
To all, except one image, madly blind;
So shakes the needle, and so stands the pole,
As vibrates my fond heart to my fix'd soul.
