George Gordon Noel Byron ( 10 of 329 )
Romances paint at full length people's wooings,
But only give a bust of marriages:
For no one read more
Romances paint at full length people's wooings,
But only give a bust of marriages:
For no one cares for matrimonial cooings.
There's nothing wrong in a connubial kiss.
Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch's wife,
He would have written sonnets all his life?
The devil's in the moon for mischief; they
Who call'd her chaste, methinks, began too soon
Their read more
The devil's in the moon for mischief; they
Who call'd her chaste, methinks, began too soon
Their nomenclature; there is not a day,
The longest, not the twenty-first of June,
Sees half the business in a wicked way,
On which three single hours of moonshine smile--
And then she looks so modest all the while!
Ecclesiastes said that "all is vanity,"
Most modern preachers say the same, or show it
By their read more
Ecclesiastes said that "all is vanity,"
Most modern preachers say the same, or show it
By their examples of true Christianity:
In short, all know, or very short may know it.
Earth! render back from out thy breast
A remnant of our Spartan dead!
Of the three hundred read more
Earth! render back from out thy breast
A remnant of our Spartan dead!
Of the three hundred grant but three,
To make a new Thermopylae!
The mellow autumn came, and with it came
The promised party, to enjoy its sweets.
The corn read more
The mellow autumn came, and with it came
The promised party, to enjoy its sweets.
The corn is cut, the manor full of game;
The pointer ranges, and the sportsman beats
In russet jacket;--lynx-like is his aim;
Full grows his bag, and wonderful his feats.
An, nutbrown partridges! An, brilliant pheasants!
And ah, ye poachers!--'Tis no sport for peasants.
Be hypocritical, be cautious, be
Not what you seem but always what you see.
Be hypocritical, be cautious, be
Not what you seem but always what you see.
Whatsoe'er thy birth,
Thou wert a beautiful thought and softly bodied forth.
Whatsoe'er thy birth,
Thou wert a beautiful thought and softly bodied forth.
Sleep hath its own world,
A boundary between the things misnamed
Death and existence: Sleep hath its read more
Sleep hath its own world,
A boundary between the things misnamed
Death and existence: Sleep hath its own world,
And a wide realm of wild reality,
And dreams in their development have breath,
And tears and tortures, and the touch of joy.
What want these outlaws conquerors should have
But History's purchased page to call them great?
What want these outlaws conquerors should have
But History's purchased page to call them great?
And hold up to the sun my little taper.
And hold up to the sun my little taper.
