Lord Byron

Lord Byron

George Gordon Byron, 6th Baron Byron (22 January 1788 – 19 April 1824), commonly known simply as Lord Byron, was a British poet, peer, politician, and a leading figure in the Romantic movement. Among his best-known works are the lengthy narrative poems, Don Juan and Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, and the short lyric poem, "She Walks in Beauty".

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Thy decay's still impregnate with divinity.

'Tis said that persons living on annuities are longer lived than others

It is by far the most elegant worship hardly excepting the Greek mythology. What with incense pictures statues altars shrines relics and the real presence confession absolution -- there is something sensible to grasp at. Besides it leaves no possibility of doubt, for those who swallow their Deity really and truly in transubstantiation can hardly find any thing else otherwise than easy of digestion.

Adversity is the first path to truth.

The reading or non-reading a book will never keep down a single petticoat.

Oh Time! the beautifier of the dead adorer of the ruin comforter and only healer when the heart hath bled... Time the avenger!

The fact is that my wife if she had common sense would have more power over me than any other whatsoever for my heart always alights upon the nearest perch.

If I don't write to empty my mind I go mad. As to that regular uninterrupted love of writing. I do not understand it. I feel it as a torture which I must get rid of but never as a pleasure. On the contrary I think composition a great pain.

The ''good old times'' -- all times when old are good.

'Tis sweet to hear the watch dogs' honest bark - Bay deep-mouthed welcome as we draw near home, 'Tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark - Our coming and look brighter when we come.

Men are the sport of circumstances when it seems circumstances are the sport of men.

So much alarmed that she is quite alarming All Giggle Blush half Pertness and half Pout.

But as to women who can penetrate the real sufferings of their she condition? Man's very sympathy with their estate has much of selfishness and more suspicion. Their love their virtue beauty education but form good housekeepers to breed a nation.

`Whom the gods love die young' was said of yore.

'Tis the perception of the beautiful, A fine extension of the faculties, Platonic universal wonderful, Drawn from the stars and filtered through the skies, Without which life would be extremely dull

All tragedies are finished by a death All comedies are ended by a marriage

Why don't they knead two virtuous souls for life / Into that moral centaur man and wife?

Why I came here I know not, where I shall go it is useless to inquire -- in the midst of myriads of the living and the dead worlds stars systems infinity why should I be anxious about an atom?

O Fame! if I e'er took delight in thy praises, 'Twas less for the sake of thy high-sounding phrases, Than to see the bright eyes of the dear one discover, The thought that I was not unworthy to love her.

When we two parted / In silence and tears / Half broken-hearted / To sever for years / Pale grew thy cheek and cold / Colder thy kiss,/ Truly that hour foretold / Sorrow to this.

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