The starry fable of the milky way Has not thy story's purity; it is A constellation of a sweeter ray, And sacred Nature triumphs more in this Reverse… - Lord Byron

My days of love are over; me no more
The charms of maid, wife, and still less of widow,
Can make the fool of which they made before, — In short, I must not lead the life I did do;
The credulous hope of mutual minds is o'er,
The copious use of claret is forbid too,
So for a good old-gentlemanly vice,
I think I must take up with avarice.

You take things coolly, sir,’ said Juan. ‘Why,’
Replied the other, ‘what can a man do?
There still are many rainbows in your sky,
But mine have vanish’d. All, when life is new,
Commence with feelings warm, and prospects high;
But time strips our illusions of their hue,
And one by one in turn, some grand mistake
Casts off its bright skin yearly like the snake.

I see before me the Gladiator lie: / He leans upon his hand - his manly brow / Consents to death, but conquers agony.