THE SPELL IS BROKE, THE CHARM IS FLOWN!

By George Gordon Byron

The spell is broke, the charm is flown!

Thus is it with Life's fitful fever:

We madly smile when we should groan;

Delirium is our best deceiver.

Each lucid interval of thought

Recalls the woes of Nature's charter;

And He that acts as wise men ought,

But lives — as Saints have died — a martyr.