George Gordon Noel Byron ( 10 of 329 )
As winds come whispering lightly from the West,
Kissing, not ruffling, the blue deep's serene.
As winds come whispering lightly from the West,
Kissing, not ruffling, the blue deep's serene.
For most men (till by losing rendered sager)
Will back their own opinion is by a wager.
For most men (till by losing rendered sager)
Will back their own opinion is by a wager.
O Fame!--if I e'er took delight in thy praises,
'Twas less for the sake of thy high-sounding phrases,
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O Fame!--if I e'er took delight in thy praises,
'Twas less for the sake of thy high-sounding phrases,
Than to see the bright eyes of the dear one discover
She thought that I was not unworthy to love her.
That each pull'd different ways with many an oath,
"Arcades ambo," id est--blackguards both.
That each pull'd different ways with many an oath,
"Arcades ambo," id est--blackguards both.
The careful pilot of my proper woe.
The careful pilot of my proper woe.
And Doubt and Discord step 'twixt thine and thee.
And Doubt and Discord step 'twixt thine and thee.
Such parting break the heart they fondly hope to heal.
Such parting break the heart they fondly hope to heal.
Kind reader! take your choice to cry or laugh;
Here Harod lies--but where's his Epitaph?
If such read more
Kind reader! take your choice to cry or laugh;
Here Harod lies--but where's his Epitaph?
If such you seek, try Westminister, and view
Ten thousand, just as fit for him as you.
And circumstance, that unspiritual god,
And miscreator, makes and helps along
Our coming evils, with a critch-like read more
And circumstance, that unspiritual god,
And miscreator, makes and helps along
Our coming evils, with a critch-like rod,
Whose touch turns hope to dust--the dust we all have trod.
The truly brave,
When they behold the brave oppressed with odds,
Are touched with a desire to read more
The truly brave,
When they behold the brave oppressed with odds,
Are touched with a desire to shield and save:--
A mixture of wild beasts and demi-gods
Are they--now furious as the sweeping wave,
Now moved with pity; even as sometimes nods
The rugged tree unto the summer wind,
Compassion breathes along the savage mind.
