George Gordon Noel Byron ( 10 of 329 )
The best of prophets of the future is the past.
The best of prophets of the future is the past.
"Yet doth he live!" exclaims th' impatient heir,
And sighs for sables which he must not wear.
"Yet doth he live!" exclaims th' impatient heir,
And sighs for sables which he must not wear.
There were his young barbarians all at play
There was their Dacian mother--he, their sire,
Butcher'd to read more
There were his young barbarians all at play
There was their Dacian mother--he, their sire,
Butcher'd to make a Roman holiday.
And I have loved them, Ocean! and my joy
Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be
read more
And I have loved them, Ocean! and my joy
Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be
Borne, like shy bubbles, onward; from a boy
I wanton'd with thy breakers.
. . . .
And laid my hand upon thy mane--as I do here.
Thou who hast
The fatal gist of beauty.
Thou who hast
The fatal gist of beauty.
'Tis pleasant purchasing our fellow-creatures;
And all are to be sold, if you consider
Their passions, and read more
'Tis pleasant purchasing our fellow-creatures;
And all are to be sold, if you consider
Their passions, and are dext'rous; some by features
Are brought up, others by a warlike leader;
Some by a place--as tend their years or natures;
The most by ready cash--but all have prices,
From crowns to kicks, according to their vices.
Romances paint at full length people's wooings,
But only give a bust of marriages:
For no one read more
Romances paint at full length people's wooings,
But only give a bust of marriages:
For no one cares for matrimonial cooings.
There's nothing wrong in a connubial kiss.
Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch's wife,
He would have written sonnets all his life?
A thousand hearts beat happily; and when
Music arose with its voluptuous swell,
Soft eyes look'd love read more
A thousand hearts beat happily; and when
Music arose with its voluptuous swell,
Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again,
And all went merry as a marriage bell.
A feast not profuse but elegant; more of salt [refinement] than
of expense.
[Lat., Non ampliter, sed munditer read more
A feast not profuse but elegant; more of salt [refinement] than
of expense.
[Lat., Non ampliter, sed munditer convivium; plus salis quam
sumptus.]
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.
