As the Liberty lads o'er the sea Bought their freedom, and cheaply, with blood So we, boys, we Will die fighting, or live free, And down with all kin… - Lord Byron

I loved my country, and I hated him.

I can never get people to understand that poetry is the expression of excited passion.

They say that Hope is happiness
But genuine Love must prize the past;
And Mem'ry wakes the thoughts that bless:
They rose first — they set the last.

And all that mem'ry loves the most
Was once our only hope to be:
And all that hope adored and lost
Hath melted into memory.

Alas! It is delusion all — The future cheats us from afar:
Nor can we be what we recall,
Nor dare we think on what we are.