I am ashes where once I was fire... - Lord Byron

I want a hero: an uncommon want,
When every year and month sends forth a new one,
Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant,
The age discovers he is not the true one:

Pra mim, o que passou está passado, (For me, I leave the matter where I find it,)
Pois sei que essa virtude repressiva (Knowing that such uneasy virtue leads)
não afasta as pessoas do pecado, (People some ten times less in fact to mind it)
Só as deixa mais dúplices, fingidas. (And care but for discoveries an not deeds.)
A lei dos mais zelosos advogados (Anda as for chastity, you'll never bind it)
Não torna a castidade mais estrita (By all the laws the strictest lawyer pleads,)
E em vez de prevenir, agrava o erro, (But aggravate the crime you have not prevented,)
Pois leva o penitente ao desespero. (By rendering desperate those who had else repented.)

Is yet within the unread events of time.
Thus far, go forth, thou lay, which I will back
Against the same given quantity of rhyme,
For being as much the subject of attack
As ever yet was any work sublime,
By those who love to say that white is black.
So much the better! — I may stand alone,
But would not change my free thoughts for a throne.