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Lord Byron

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Oh, talk not to me of a name great in story;
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.
--
Stanzas Written on the Road Between Florence and Pisa, st. 1 (1821)

 
Lord Byron

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I see them walking in an air of glory
Whose light doth trample on my days,
My days, which are at best but dull and hoary,
Mere glimmering and decays.

 
Henry Vaughan
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