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A light broke in upon my brain, -It was the carol of a bird;It ceased, and then it came again,The sweetest song ear ever heard.
Lord Byron
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Since Eve ate the apple, much depends on dinner.
Lord Byron
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But there are wanderers o'er Eternity Whose bark drives on and on, and anchor'd ne'er shall be.
Lord Byron
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I should be very willing to redress men wrongs, and rather check than punish crimes, had not Cervantes, in that all too true tale of Quixote, shown how all such efforts fail.
Lord Byron
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Parting day Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues With a new colour as it gasps away, The last still loveliest, till-'t is gone, and all is gray.
Lord Byron
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For pleasures past I do not grieve, nor perils gathering near; My greatest grief is that I leave nothing that claims a tear.
Lord Byron
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Were't the last drop in the well,As I gasp'd upon the brink,Ere my fainting spirit fell'T is to thee that I would drink.
Lord Byron
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And thou wert lovely to the last,Extinguish'd, not decay'd;As stars that shoot along the skyShine brightest as they fall from high.
Lord Byron
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Then farewell, Horace; whom I hated so, Not for thy faults, but mine.
Lord Byron
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The Cardinal is at his wit's end - it is true that he had not far to go.
Lord Byron
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My heart in passion, and my head on rhymes.
Lord Byron
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'Bring forth the horse!' - the horse was brought;In truth, he was a noble steed,A Tartar of the Ukraine breed,Who look'd as though the speed of thoughtWere in his limbs.
Lord Byron
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Fair Greece! sad relic of departed worth! Immortal, though no more! though fallen, great!
Lord Byron
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I should, many a good day, have blown my brains out, but for the recollection that it would have given pleasure to my mother-in-law.
Lord Byron
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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.
Lord Byron
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Muse of the many twinkling feet, whose charms are now extending up from legs to arms.
Lord Byron
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This is to be mortal, And seek the things beyond mortality.
Lord Byron
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My hair is grey, but not with years,Nor grew it whiteIn a single night,As men's have grown from sudden fears.
Lord Byron
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A man must serve his time to every tradeSave censure - critics are ready-made.
Lord Byron
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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
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While Franklin's quiet memory climbs to heaven,Calming the lightning which he thence hath riven,Or drawing from the no less kindled earthFreedom and peace to that which boasts his birth;While Washington's a watchword, such as ne'erShall sink while there's an echo left to air.
Lord Byron
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A sort of hostile transaction, very necessary to keep the world going, but by no means a sinecure to the parties concerned.
Lord Byron
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Tis pleasing to be school'd in a strange tongue By female lips and eyes--that is, I mean, When both the teacher and the taught are young, As was the case, at least, where I have been; They smile so when one's right; and when one's wrong They smile still more.
Lord Byron
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Men think highly of those who rise rapidly in the world; whereas nothing rises quicker than dust, straw, and feathers.
Lord Byron
