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I loved my country, and I hated him.
Lord Byron -
For the sword outwears its sheath,And the soul wears out the breast,And the heart must pause to breathe,And love itself have rest.
Lord Byron
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Jack was embarrassed - never hero more,And as he knew not what to say, he swore.
Lord Byron -
Oh that the desert were my dwelling-place, With one fair spirit for my minister.
Lord Byron -
No words suffice the secret soul to show, For truth denies all eloquence to woe.
Lord Byron -
Think'st thou there is no tyranny but that Of blood and chains? The despotism of vice-- The weakness and the wickedness of luxury-- The negligence--the apathy--the evils Of sensual sloth--produces ten thousand tyrants, Whose delegated cruelty surpasses The worst acts of one energetic master, However harsh and hard in his own bearing.
Lord Byron -
The thorns which I have reap'd are of the tree I planted; they have torn me, and I bleed. I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed.
Lord Byron -
And hold up to the sun my little taper.
Lord Byron
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Who tracks the steps of glory to the grave?
Lord Byron -
That prose is a verse, and verse is a prose; convincing all, by demonstrating plain – poetic souls delight in prose insane.
Lord Byron -
I awoke one morning and found myself famous.
Lord Byron -
Sublime tobacco! which from east to westCheers the tar's labor or the Turkman's rest.
Lord Byron -
But we, who name ourselves its sovereigns, we, Half dust, half deity, alike unfitTo sink or soar.
Lord Byron -
Who then will explain the explanation?
Lord Byron
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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?
Lord Byron -
From my youth upwardsMy spirit walk'd not with the souls of men,Nor look'd upon the earth with human eyes;The thirst of their ambition was not mine,The aim of their existence was not mine;My joys, my griefs, my passions, and my powersMade me a stranger.
Lord Byron -
Here's a sigh to those who love me,And a smile to those who hate:And, whatever sky's above me,Here's a heart for every fate.
Lord Byron -
My mother Earth!And thou fresh breaking Day, and you, ye Mountains,Why are ye beautiful? I cannot love ye.And thou, the bright eye of the universe,That openest over all, and unto allArt a delight-thou shin'st not on my heart.
Lord Byron -
I only know we loved in vain;I only feel - farewell! farewell!
Lord Byron -
A change came o'er the spirit of my dream.
Lord Byron
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Send me no more reviews of any kind. - I will read no more of evil or good in that line. - Walter Scott has not read a review of himself for thirteen years.
Lord Byron -
Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains; They crown'd him long ago On a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds, With a diadem of snow.
Lord Byron -
Your thief looks Exactly like the rest, or rather better; 'Tis only at the bar, and in the dungeon, That wise men know your felon by his features.
Lord Byron -
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