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Absence - that common cure of love.

Lord Byron

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Lord Byron
Age: 36 †
Born: 1788
Born: January 22
Died: 1824
Died: April 19
Autobiographer
Baron Byron
Diarist
Librettist
Lyricist
Military Personnel
Playwright
Poet
Politician
Translator
Writer
London
England
George Gordon Byron
George Gordon Byron
6th Baron Byron
Noel Byron
Xhorxh Bajroni
Bajron
George Gordon
Jerzy Gordon Byron
Pai-lun
Baron Byron George Gordon Byron
6th Baron Byron George Gordon Noel
Byron
George Gordon Byron
Baron Byron
6th Baron Byron George Gordon Byron
George Gordon Noël Byron Byron
Bayrěn
Payrěn
George Gordon By
Love
Epic
Cure
Cures
Absence
Common
Funny

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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.
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Near this spot are deposited the remains of one who possessed beauty without vanity, strength without insolence, courage without ferocity, and all the virtues of man, without his vices. This praise, which would be unmeaning flattery if inscribed over human ashes, is but a just tribute to the memory of Botswain, a dog.
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Knowledge is not happiness, and science But an exchange of ignorance for that Which is another kind of ignorance.
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'Tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark our coming, and look brighter when we come.
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Had sigh'd to many, though he loved but one.
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You gave me the key to your heart, my love, then why did you make me knock?
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Despair and Genius are too oft connected
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No words suffice the secret soul to show, For truth denies all eloquence to woe.
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Alas! how deeply painful is all payment!
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The world is a bundle of hay, Mankind are the asses that pull, Each tugs in a different way And the greatest of all is John Bull!
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Let no man grumble when his friends fall off, As they will do like leaves at the first breeze When your affairs come round, one way or t'other, Go to the coffee house, and take another.
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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?
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Champagne with its foaming whirls/As white as Cleopatra's pearls.
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What should I have known or written had I been a quiet, mercantile politician or a lord in waiting? A man must travel, and turmoil, or there is no existence.
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And those who saw, it did surprise, Such drops could fall from human eyes.
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But mighty Nature bounds as from her birth The sun is in the heavens, and life on earth: Flowers in the valley, splendor in the beam, Health on the gale, and freshness in the stream.
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Tis strange,-but true for truth is always strange Stranger than fiction: if it could be told, How much would novels gain by the exchange! How differently the world would men behold!
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Frienship is eros...without wings
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A change came o'er the spirit of my dream.
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