George Gordon Noel Byron ( 10 of 329 )
And wrinkles, the d--d democrats, won't flatter.
And wrinkles, the d--d democrats, won't flatter.
It was the cooling hour, just when the rounded
Red sun sinks down behind the azure hill,
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It was the cooling hour, just when the rounded
Red sun sinks down behind the azure hill,
Which then seems as if the whole earth is bounded,
Circling all nature, hush'd, and dim, and still,
With the far mountain-crescent half surrounded
On one side, and the deep sea calm and chill
Upon the other, and the rosy sky
With one star sparkling through it like an eye.
And gazed around them to the left and right
With the prophetic eye of appetite.
And gazed around them to the left and right
With the prophetic eye of appetite.
Brave men were living before Agamemnon.
Brave men were living before Agamemnon.
There is a tide in the affairs of women
Which, taken at the flood, leads--God knows where.
There is a tide in the affairs of women
Which, taken at the flood, leads--God knows where.
Eternal Spirit of the chainless Mind!
Brightest in dungeons, Liberty! thou art,
For there thy habitation is read more
Eternal Spirit of the chainless Mind!
Brightest in dungeons, Liberty! thou art,
For there thy habitation is the heart--
The heart which love of thee alone can bind;
And when thy sons to fetters are consign'd--
To fetters and damp vault's dayless gloom,
Their country conquers with their martyrdom.
- Lord Byron (George Gordon Noel Byron),
Dead scandals form good subjects for dissection.
Dead scandals form good subjects for dissection.
When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past--
For years fleet away with the wings of the read more
When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past--
For years fleet away with the wings of the dove--
The dearest remembrance will still be the last,
Our sweetest memorial the first kiss of love.
Kind reader! take your choice to cry or laugh;
Here Harod lies--but where's his Epitaph?
If such read more
Kind reader! take your choice to cry or laugh;
Here Harod lies--but where's his Epitaph?
If such you seek, try Westminister, and view
Ten thousand, just as fit for him as you.
All Heaven and Earth are still, though not in sleep,
But breathless, as we grow when feeling most.
All Heaven and Earth are still, though not in sleep,
But breathless, as we grow when feeling most.
