Whate'er I may have been, or am, doth rest between Heaven and myself; I shall not choose a mortal To be my mediator. - Lord Byron

But he who seeks the flowers of truth
Must quit the garden for the field

History can only take things in the gross;
But could we know them in detail, perchance
In balancing the profit and the loss,
War's merit it by no means might enhance,
To waste so much gold for a little dross,
As hath been done, mere conquest to advance.
The drying up a single tear has more
Of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore.

In secret we met -
In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee? -
With silence and tears