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The English winter - ending in July to recommence in August
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
Wintertime
August
July
Senior
Ending
Winter
English
Summer
More quotes by Lord Byron
You gave me the key to your heart, my love, then why did you make me knock?
Lord Byron
Still from the fount of joy's delicious springs Some bitter o'er the flowers its bubbling venom flings.
Lord Byron
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!
Lord Byron
Of religion I know nothing -- at least, in its favor.
Lord Byron
And what is writ is writ - / Would it were worthier!
Lord Byron
It is the lava of the imagination whose eruption prevents an earthquake.
Lord Byron
What is Death, so it be but glorious? 'Tis a sunset And mortals may be happy to resemble The Gods but in decay.
Lord Byron
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.
Lord Byron
Bread has been made (indifferent) from potatoes And galvanism has set some corpses grinning, But has not answer'd like the apparatus Of the Humane Society's beginning, By which men are unsuffocated gratis: What wondrous new machines have late been spinning.
Lord Byron
Many are poets, but without the nameFor what is Poesy but to createFrom overfeeling Good or Ill and aimAt an external life beyond our fate,And be the new Prometheus of new men,Bestowing fire from Heaven, and then, too late,Finding the pleasure given repaid with pain
Lord Byron
May Moorland weavers boast Pindaric skill, And tailors' lays be longer than their bill! While punctual beaux reward the grateful notes, And pay for poems--when they pay for coats.
Lord Byron
My heart in passion, and my head on rhymes.
Lord Byron
Folly loves the martyrdom of fame.
Lord Byron
Heaven gives its favourites-early death.
Lord Byron
But 'midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men, To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess, And roam along, the world's tired denizen, With none who bless us, none whom we can bless.
Lord Byron
I can't but say it is an awkward sight To see one's native land receding through The growing waters it unmans one quite, Especially when life is rather new.
Lord Byron
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.
Lord Byron
The fact is that my wife if she had common sense would have more power over me than any other whatsoever, for my heart always alights upon the nearest perch.
Lord Byron
Let not his mode of raising cash seem strange, Although he fleeced the flags of every nation, For into a prime minister but change His title, and 'tis nothing but taxation.
Lord Byron
The lapse of ages changes all things - time, language, the earth, the bounds of the sea, the stars of the sky, and every thing about, around, and underneath man, except man himself.
Lord Byron
