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Then stirs the feeling infinite, so felt In solitude, where we are least alone.
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
Solitude
Infinite
Least
Alone
Feeling
Felt
Feelings
Stirs
Loneliness
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O ye! who teach the ingenious youth of nations, Holland, France, England, Germany or Spain, I pray ye flog them upon all occasions, It mends their morals, never mind the pain.
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What is the worst of woes that wait on age? What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow? To view each loved one blotted from life's page, And be alone on earth, as I am now.
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But stories somehow lengthen when begun.
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Ye stars! which are the poetry of heaven!
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The image of Eternity--the throne Of the Invisible even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made each zone Obeys thee thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
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By Heaven! it is a splendid sight to see For one who hath no friend, no brother there.
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Death, so called, is a thing which makes men weep, And yet a third of life is passed in sleep.
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Of religion I know nothing -- at least, in its favor.
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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.
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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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I only know we loved in vain I only feel-farewell! farewell!
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