George Gordon Byron 3

Star of the brave!–whose beam hath shed

Thou radiant and adored deceit!Which millions rush’d in arms to greet,Wild meteor of immortal birth;Why rise in Heaven to set on Earth?Souls of slain heroes form’d thy rays;Eternity flash’d through thy blaze;The music of thy martial sphereWas fame on high and honour here;And thy light broke on human eyes,Like a volcano of the skies.Like lava…

‘It is the voice of years that are gone!

Newstead! fast-falling, once-resplendent dome!Religion’s shrine! repentant HENRY’s pride!Of warriors, monks, and dames the cloister’d tomb,Whose pensive shades around thy ruins glide,Hail to thy pile! more honour’d in thy fallThan modern mansions in their pillar’d state;Proudly majestic frowns thy vaulted hall,Scowling defiance on the blasts of fate.No mail-clad serfs, obedient to their lord,In grim array the…

Belshazzar! from the banquet turn,

Behold! while yet before thee burnThe graven words, the glowing wall.Many a despot men miscallCrown’d and anointed from on high;But thou, the weakest, worst of all­Is it not written, thou must die?Go! dash the roses from thy brow–Grey hairs but poorly wreathe with them;Youth’s garlands misbecome thee now,More than thy very diadem,Where thou hast tarnish’d…