Don Juan 01-063
Canto the First

LXIII

'T is a sad thing, I cannot choose but say,
     And all the fault of that indecent sun,
Who cannot leave alone our helpless clay,
     But will keep baking, broiling, burning on,
That howsoever people fast and pray,
     The flesh is frail, and so the soul undone:
What men call gallantry, and gods adultery,
Is much more common where the climate's sultry.

George Gordon Byron, Lord Byron (1788-1824) ByronLong
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