Читать книгу Don Juan (With Byron's Biography) - Lord Byron - Страница 574

And when his bones are dust, his grave a blank,

His station, generation, even his nation,

Become a thing, or nothing, save to rank

In chronological commemoration,

Some dull MS. Oblivion long has sank,

Or graven stone found in a barrack's station

In digging the foundation of a closet,DB

May turn his name up, as a rare deposit.