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I suppose we shall soon travel by air-vessels make air instead of sea voyages and at length find our way to the moon, in spite of the want of atmosphere.
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
Find
Suppose
Vessels
Way
Sea
Voyages
Make
Air
Predictions
Travel
Vessel
Soon
Aviation
Moon
Length
Instead
Spite
Shall
Atmosphere
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Damn description, it is always disgusting.
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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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O Fame! if I ever took delight in thy praises, Twas less for the sake of thy high-sounding phrases, Than to see the bright eyes of the dear one discover The thought that I was not unworthy to love her.
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Oh, Mirth and Innocence! Oh, Milk and Water! Ye happy mixture of more happy days!
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Fair Greece! sad relic of departed worth! Immortal, though no more! though fallen, great!
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Sighing that Nature formed but one such man, and broke the die.
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I only know we loved in vain I only feel-farewell! farewell!
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The place is very well and quiet and the children only scream in a low voice.
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My altars are the mountains and the ocean.
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A thirst for gold, The beggar's vice, which can but overwhelm The meanest hearts.
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My slumbers--if I slumber--are not sleep, But a continuance of enduring thought, Which then I can resist not: in my heart There is a vigil, and these eyes but close To look within and yet I live, and bear The aspect and the form of breathing men.
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And those who saw, it did surprise, Such drops could fall from human eyes.
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A quiet conscience makes one so serene.
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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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In solitude, when we are least alone.
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It is when we think we lead that we are most led.
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