Quotation by George Gordon Noel Byron

The conqueror at least; who, ere Time renders
His last award, will have the long grass grow
Above his burnt-out brain and sapless cinders.
If I might augur, I should rate but low
Their chances: they are too numerous, like the thirty
Mock tyrants, when Rome's annals wax'd but dirty.
George Gordon Noel Byron (1788–1824), British poet. Don Juan. . .

The Poems of Byron. Paul E. More, ed. (1933) Houghton Mifflin.
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