English Poetry II: From Collins to Fitzgerald.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.
George Gordon, Lord Byron
471. All for Love
O
The days of our youth are the days of our glory;
And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two-and-twenty
Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty.
’Tis but as a dead flower with May-dew besprinkled:
Then away with all such from the head that is hoary—
What care I for the wreaths that can only give glory?
’Twas less for the sake of thy high-sounding phrases,
She thought that I was not unworthy to love her.
Her glance was the best of the rays that surround thee;
When it sparkled o’er aught that was bright in my story,
I knew it was love, and I felt it was glory.