George Gordon Noel Byron ( 10 of 329 )
His breast with wounds unnumber'd riven,
His back to earth, his face to heaven.
His breast with wounds unnumber'd riven,
His back to earth, his face to heaven.
Dear authors! suit your topics to your strength,
And ponder well your subject, and its length;
Nor read more
Dear authors! suit your topics to your strength,
And ponder well your subject, and its length;
Nor lift your lad, before you're quite aware
What weight your shoulders will, or will not, bear.
Oh, for one hour of blind old Dandolo,
Th' octogenarian chief, Byzantium's conquering foe!
Oh, for one hour of blind old Dandolo,
Th' octogenarian chief, Byzantium's conquering foe!
Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea!
Jehovah hath triumphed--his people are free.
- Lord read more
Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea!
Jehovah hath triumphed--his people are free.
- Lord Byron (George Gordon Noel Byron),
Such is your cold coquette, who can't say "No,"
And won't say "Yes," and keeps you on and off-ing
read more
Such is your cold coquette, who can't say "No,"
And won't say "Yes," and keeps you on and off-ing
On a lee-shore, till it begins to blow,
Then sees your heart wreck'd, with an inward scoffing.
For Freedom's battle once begun,
Bequeath'd by bleeding sire to son,
Though baffled oft is ever won.
For Freedom's battle once begun,
Bequeath'd by bleeding sire to son,
Though baffled oft is ever won.
For what were all these country patriots born?
To hunt, and vote, and raise the price of corn?
For what were all these country patriots born?
To hunt, and vote, and raise the price of corn?
The stars are forth, the moon above the tops
Of the snow-shining mountains--Beautiful!
I linger yet with read more
The stars are forth, the moon above the tops
Of the snow-shining mountains--Beautiful!
I linger yet with Nature, for the night
Hath been to me a more familiar face
Than that of man; and in her starry shade
Of dim and solitary loveliness
I learn'd the language of another world.
She walks the waters like a thing of life,
And seems to dare the elements to strife.
She walks the waters like a thing of life,
And seems to dare the elements to strife.
The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,
The Moon, their Mistress, had expired before;
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The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,
The Moon, their Mistress, had expired before;
The winds were wither'd in the stagnant air,
And the clouds perish'd; darkness had no need
Of aid from them--she was the Universe.
