George Gordon Noel Byron ( 10 of 329 )
For florid prose, nor honied lies of rhyme,
Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a crime.
For florid prose, nor honied lies of rhyme,
Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a crime.
Most glorious night!
Thou wert not sent for slumber!
Most glorious night!
Thou wert not sent for slumber!
. . . Years steal
Fire from the mind, as vigor from the limb;
And life's enchanted read more
. . . Years steal
Fire from the mind, as vigor from the limb;
And life's enchanted cut but sparkles near the brim.
Such is the aspect of this shore;
'Tis Greece, but living Greece no more!
So coldly sweet, read more
Such is the aspect of this shore;
'Tis Greece, but living Greece no more!
So coldly sweet, so deadly fair,
We start, for soul is wanting there.
Ah! were I sever'd from thy side,
Where were thy friend and who my guide?
Years have read more
Ah! were I sever'd from thy side,
Where were thy friend and who my guide?
Years have not seen, Time shall not see
The hour that tears my soul from thee.
Oh, who can tell, save he whose heart hath tried?
Oh, who can tell, save he whose heart hath tried?
'Twas blow for blow, disputing inch by inch,
For one would not retreat, nor t'other flinch.
'Twas blow for blow, disputing inch by inch,
For one would not retreat, nor t'other flinch.
Hereditary bondsmen! Know ye not
Who would be free themselves must strike the blow?
Hereditary bondsmen! Know ye not
Who would be free themselves must strike the blow?
But quiet to quick bosoms is a hell,
And there hath been thy bane.
But quiet to quick bosoms is a hell,
And there hath been thy bane.
His heart was one of those which most enamour us,
Wax to receive, and marble to retain.
His heart was one of those which most enamour us,
Wax to receive, and marble to retain.
