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Lord Byron

In secret we met In silence I grieve, That thy heart could forget, Thy spirit deceive.
Lord Byron art
The first — the last — the best — Theof the West…
Lord Byron best
My great comfort is, that the temporary celebrity I have wrung from the world has been in the very teeth of alland . I have flattered no ruling powers; I have never concealed a single thought that tempted me.
Lord Byron power
There's not athecan give like that it takes away.
Lord Byron
There never yet was Which could evade, if unforgiven, The patient search and vigil long Of him who treasures up a wrong.
Lord Byron sea
A belongs to no country; his works are public property, and his Memoirs the inheritance of the public.
Lord Byron work
They never fail who die In a great cause.
Lord Byron die
When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past— For years fleet away with the wings of the — The dearest remembrance will still be the last, Our sweetest memorial the first kiss of .
Lord Byron past
Farewell! if ever fondest prayer For other's weal avail'd on high, Mine will not all be lost in air, But waft thy name beyond the sky.
Lord Byron prayer
I only know we loved in vain; I only feel — farewell! farewell!
Lord Byron love
When we two parted In silence and tears, Half brokenhearted, To sever for years.
Lord Byron art
In secret we met In silence I grieve, That thy heart could forget, Thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee After long years, How should I greet thee? With silence and tears.
Lord Byron art
Near this spot Are deposited the Remains of one Who possessedwithout , without Insolence, without Ferocity, And all theof , without his Vices.This , which would be unmeaningIf inscribed overashes, Is but a just tribute to the Memory of BOATSWAIN, a
Lord Byron meaning
The poor dog, in life the firmest friend, The first to welcome, foremost to defend.
Lord Byron life
Maid of Athens, ere we part, Give, oh give me back my heart!
Lord Byron art
The love wherehas set his seal, Nor age can chill, nor rival steal, Nor falsehood disavow.
Lord Byron love
And thou wert lovely to the last, Extinguish'd, not decay'd; As stars that shoot along the sky Shine brightest as they fall from high.
Lord Byron love
If I am fool, it is, at least, a doubting one; and I envy no one the certainty of his self-approved wisdom.
Lord Byron wisdom
Where may the wearied eye repose When gazing on the ; Where neither guiltyglows, Nor despicable state? Yes — one — the first — the last — the best — Theof the West, Whom envy dared not , Bequeath'd the name of , To make man blush there was but one!
Lord Byron man
You are the fools, not I — for I did dwell With a deep thought, and with a softened eye, On that Old Sexton's natural homily, In which there was Obscurity and ,Theand theof a .
Lord Byron thought
Fare thee well! and if forever, Still forever, fare thee well: Even though unforgiving, never 'Gainst thee shall my heart rebel.
Lord Byron art
My hair is grey, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have grown from sudden fears.
Lord Byron fear
Oh, ! it is a fearful thing To see the take wing In any shape, in any mood.
Lord Byron fear
Abroke in upon my brain, — It was the carol of a bird; It ceased, and then it came again, The sweetest song ear ever heard.
Lord Byron sweet
There 's not athe world can give like that it takes away.
Lord Byron world
There be none of Beauty's daughters With alike thee; And likeon the waters Is thy sweetto me.
Lord Byron sweet
I had a , which was not all a dream.
Lord Byron dream
Though the day of my 's over, And theof myhath declined, Thy soft heart refused to discover The faults which so many could find.
Lord Byron art
In the desert a fountain is springing, In the wide waste there still is a , And ain the solitude singing, Which speaks to my spirit of thee.
Lord Byron sin
The careful pilot of my proper woe.
Lord Byron care
As thelads o'er the sea Bought their , and cheaply, with blood, So we, boys, we Shall die fighting or live free, And down with all kings but King Ludd!
Lord Byron live
My boat is on the shore, And my bark is on the sea; But, before I go, Tom Moore. Here's a double health to thee!
Lord Byron health
Here's a sigh to those who love me, And ato those who : And, whatever 's above me, Here's a [[heart[[ for every fate.
Lord Byron love
Were't the last drop in the well, As I gasp'd upon the brink, Ere my fainting spirit fell 'T is to thee that I would drink.
Lord Byron spirit
"Bring forth the !" — the horse was brought; In , he was a noble steed, A Tartar of the Ukraine breed, Who look'd as though the speed of thought Were in his limbs.
Lord Byron art
And if we do but watch the hour, There never yet was human power Which could evade, if unforgiven, The patient search and vigil long Of him who treasures up a wrong.
Lord Byron power
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.
Lord Byron youth
The best ofof theis the .
Lord Byron best
The world is a bundle of hay, Mankind are the asses that pull, Each tugs in a different way— And the greatest of all is John Bull!
Lord Byron world
Send me no more reviews of any kind. — I will read no more oforin that line. —has not read a review of himself for thirteen years.
Lord Byron self
I live, but live to die: and, living, see nothing to make death hateful, save an innate clinging, a loathsome and yet all invincible instinct of life, which I abhor, as I despise myself, yet cannot overcome — and so I live. Would I had never lived!
Lord Byron life
Because He is all-powerful, must all-good, too, follow? I judge but by the fruits—and they are bitter— Which I must feed on for a fault not mine.
Lord Byron power
Who killed ? "I," says the Quarterly, So savage and Tartarly; "'Twas one of my feats."
Lord Byron art
He seems To have seen better days, as who has not Who has seen yesterday?
Lord Byron day
Sublime tobacco! which from east to west Cheers the tar's labor or the Turkman's rest.
Lord Byron man
Divine in hookas, glorious in a pipe When tipp'd with amber, mellow, rich, and ripe; Like other charmers, wooing the caress More dazzlingly when daring in full dress; Yet thy true lovers more admire by far Thy naked beauties—give me a cigar!
Lord Byron love
Jack was embarrassed — never hero more, And as he knew not what to say, he swore.
Lord Byron hero
What's drinking? A mere pause from thinking!
Lord Byron thinking
My days are in the yellow leaf; The flowers and fruits of Love are gone; The worm — the canker, and the grief Are mine alone!
Lord Byron grief
Seek out — less often sought than found — A Soldier's Grave, for thee the best; Then look around and choose thy Ground, And take thy Rest.
Lord Byron die
I awoke one morning and found myself .
Lord Byron self
Hands promiscuously applied, Round the slight waist, or down the glowing side.
Lord Byron light
Friendship may, and often does, grow into love, but love never subsides into friendship.
Lord Byron love
Lord of himself,—that heritage of woe!
Lord Byron self
It is the hour when from the boughs The nightingale's high note is heard; It is the hour when lovers' vows Seem sweet in every whisper'd word.
Lord Byron love
Yet in my lineaments they trace Some features of my father's face.
Lord Byron men
Born in the garret, in the kitchen bred.
Lord Byron
Whose game was empires and whose stakes were thrones, Whose table earth, whose dice were human bones.
Lord Byron art
I loved my country, and I hated him.
Lord Byron love
Friendship is Love without his wings.
Lord Byron win
What say you to such a supper with such a woman?
Lord Byron man
I'll publish right or wrong: Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.
Lord Byron satire
'Tis pleasure, sure, to see one's name in print; A book's a book, although there's nothing in 't.
Lord Byron book
A man must serve his time to every trade Save censure — critics are ready-made.
Lord Byron time
With just enough of learning to misquote.
Lord Byron learning
As soon Seekin , ice in ; constancy in , or corn in chaff; Believe a woman or an epitaph, Or any other thing that's false, before You trust in critics, who themselves are sore.
Lord Byron trust
Better to err with Pope, than shine with Pye.
Lord Byron wit
Perverts theand purloins the .
Lord Byron
Oh, Amos Cottle! Ph
Lord Byron
'Twas thine owngave the final blow, And help'd to plant the wound that laid thee low: So the struck , stretch'd upon the plain, No more through rolling clouds to soar again, View'd his own feather on the fatal dart, And wing'd the shaft that quiver'd in his heart.
Lord Byron art
Yetwill sometimes lend her noblest fires, And decorate the verse herself inspires: This fact, in virtue's name, let Crabbe attest,— Though 's sternest painter, yet the best.
Lord Byron time
Know ye the land where the cypress and myrtle Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime? Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle, Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime!
Lord Byron love
Where the virgins are soft as the roses they twine, And all, save the spirit of man, is divine?
Lord Byron man
The light of love, the purity of , The , the music breathing from her face, 19 The heart whose softness harmonized the whole,— And oh, that eye was in itself a soul!
Lord Byron love
Who hath not proved how feebly words essay To fix one spark of beauty's heavenly ray? Who doth not feel, until his failing sight Faints into dimness with its own delight, His changing cheek, his sinking heart, confess The might, the majesty of loveliness?
Lord Byron love
The blind old man of Scio's rocky isle.
Lord Byron man
Be thou the rainbow to the storms of life, The evening beam that smiles the clouds away, And tints to-morrow with prophetic ray!
Lord Byron life
Mark! where his carnage and his conquests cease! He makes a solitude, and calls it — !
Lord Byron solitude
Hark! to the hurried question of despair: "Where is my child?"—an echo answers, "Where?"
Lord Byron despair
's battle, once begun, Bequeath'd by bleeding sire to son, Though baffled oft, is ever won.
Lord Byron battle
I die — but first I have possessed, And come what may, I have been blessed.
Lord Byron die
He who hath bent him o'er the dead Ere the first day ofis fled,— The first dark day of nothingness, The last ofand distress, Before decay's effacing fingers Have swept the lines wherelingers.
Lord Byron dark
Such is the aspect of this shore; 'T is Greece, but living Greece no more! So coldly sweet, so deadly fair, We start, for soul is wanting there.
Lord Byron art
Shrine of the mighty! can it be That this is all remains of thee?
Lord Byron
For 's battle, once begun, Bequeath'd by bleeding sire to son, Though baffled oft, is ever won.
Lord Byron battle
And lovelier things have mercy shown To every failing but their own, And every woe a tear can claim Except an erring sister's shame.
Lord Byron love
The keenest pangs the wretched find Are rapture to the dreary void, The leafless desert of the mind, The waste of feelings unemployed.
Lord Byron mind
Better to sink beneath the shock Than moulder piecemeal on the rock.
Lord Byron sin
The cold in clime are cold in blood, Their love can scarce deserve the name.
Lord Byron love
She was a form of life and light That seen, became a part of sight, And rose, where'er I turn'd mine eye, The morning-star of memory! Yes, love indeed is light from heaven; A spark of that immortal fire With angels shared, by Alla given, To lift from earth our low desire.
Lord Byron love
withering fled, andsighed farewell!
Lord Byron wit
The fatal facility of the octosyllabic verse.
Lord Byron
Oh who can tell, save he whosehath tried.
Lord Byron
O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea, Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free, Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam, 22 Survey our empire, and behold our home! These are our realms, no limit to their sway,— Our flag the sceptre all who meet obey.
Lord Byron soul
She walks the waters like a thing of life, And seems to dare the elements to strife.
Lord Byron life
Theof ,—theof the !
Lord Byron
Such hath it been — shall be — beneath the sun The many still must labour for the one!
Lord Byron man
There was a laughing devil in his sneer.
Lord Byron evil
Farewell! For in that word, that fatal word,—howe'er We promise, hope, believe,—there breathes despair.
Lord Byron hope
No words suffice the secret soul to show, For truth denies all eloquence to woe.
Lord Byron truth

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