The stars are forth, the moon above the tops Of the snow-shining mountains--beautiful! I linger yet with nature, for the night Hath been to me a more familiar face Than that of man, and in her starry shade Of dim and solitary loveliness I learned the language of another world.
Lord ByronMaidens, like moths, are ever caught, by glare, And Mammon wins his way where seraphs might despair.
Lord Byron