George Gordon Noel Byron ( 10 of 329 )
Such is the aspect of this shore;
'Tis Greece, but living Greece no more!
So coldly sweet, read more
Such is the aspect of this shore;
'Tis Greece, but living Greece no more!
So coldly sweet, so deadly fair,
We start, for soul is wanting there.
Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea!
Jehovah hath triumphed--his people are free.
- Lord read more
Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea!
Jehovah hath triumphed--his people are free.
- Lord Byron (George Gordon Noel Byron),
I can't but say it is an awkward sight
To see one's native land receding through
The read more
I can't but say it is an awkward sight
To see one's native land receding through
The growing waters; it unmans one quite,
Especially when life is rather new.
Rough Johnson, the great moralist.
Rough Johnson, the great moralist.
Born in the garret, in the kitchen bred.
Born in the garret, in the kitchen bred.
Pure friendship's well-feigned blush.
Pure friendship's well-feigned blush.
So bright the tear in Beauty's eye,
Love half regrets to kiss it dry.
So bright the tear in Beauty's eye,
Love half regrets to kiss it dry.
Among them, but not of them.
Among them, but not of them.
The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,
The Moon, their Mistress, had expired before;
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The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,
The Moon, their Mistress, had expired before;
The winds were wither'd in the stagnant air,
And the clouds perish'd; darkness had no need
Of aid from them--she was the Universe.
Such is your cold coquette, who can't say "No,"
And won't say "Yes," and keeps you on and off-ing
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Such is your cold coquette, who can't say "No,"
And won't say "Yes," and keeps you on and off-ing
On a lee-shore, till it begins to blow,
Then sees your heart wreck'd, with an inward scoffing.
