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Yet I did love thee to the last, As ferverently as thou, Who didst not change through all the past, And canst not alter now.
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
Lasts
Last
Past
Didst
Change
Canst
Love
Alter
Thou
Thee
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Oh, talk not to me of a name great in story The days of our youth are the days of our glory And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two-and-twenty Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty.
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We of the craft are all crazy.
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Admire, exult, despise, laugh, weep for here There is such matter for all feelings: Man! Thou pendulum betwixt a smile and tear.
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The law of heaven and earth is life for life.
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With flowing tail and flying mane, Wide nostrils never stretched by pain, Mouth bloodless to bit or rein, And feet that iron never shod, And flanks unscar'd by spur or rod, A thousand horses - the wild - the free - Like waves that follow o'er the sea, Came thickly thundering on.
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And Doubt and Discord step 'twixt thine and thee.
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Curiosity kills itself and love is only curiosity, as is proved by its end.
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Damn description, it is always disgusting.
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America is a model of force and freedom and moderation - with all the coarseness and rudeness of its people.
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You should have a softer pillow than my heart.
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Nothing so difficult as a beginning In poesy, unless perhaps the end.
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Twas twilight, and the sunless day went down Over the waste of waters like a veil, Which, if withdrawn, would but disclose the frown Of one whose hate is mask'd but to assail.
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My altars are the mountains and the ocean.
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Know ye the land where the cypress and myrtle Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime? Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle, Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime!
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Tis said that persons living on annuities Are longer lived than others.
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The French courage proceeds from vanity
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It is useless to tell one not to reason but to believe you might as well tell a man not to wake but sleep.
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Fair Greece! sad relic of departed worth! Immortal, though no more! though fallen, great!
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If I could always read, I should never feel the want of company.
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One certainly has a soul but how it came to allow itself to be enclosed in a body is more than I can imagine.
Lord Byron
