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Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave.
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
Brave
Grieves
Aught
Inanimate
Grieving
Bravery
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Man's conscience is the oracle of God.
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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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This is to be along this, this is solitude!
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No ear can hear nor tongue can tell the tortures of the inward hell!
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The poetry of speech.
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So sweet the blush of bashfulness, E'en pity scarce can wish it less!
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I was accused of every monstrous vice by public rumour and private rancour my name, which had been a knightly or noble one, was tainted. I felt that, if what was whispered, and muttered, and murmured, was true, I was unfit for England if false, England was unfit for me.
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Venice once was dear, The pleasant place of all festivity, The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy.
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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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I am the very slave of circumstance And impulse borne away with every breath! Misplaced upon the throne misplaced in life. I know not what I could have been, but feel I am not what I should be let it end.
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Go let thy less than woman's hand Assume the distaff not the brand.
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I had a dream, which was not at all a dream.
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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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None are so desolate but something dear, Dearer than self, possesses or possess'd A thought, and claims the homage of a tear.
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With thee all tales are sweet each clime has charms earth - sea alike - our world within our arms.
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A man of eighty has outlived probably three new schools of painting, two of architecture and poetry and a hundred in dress.
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If from society we learn to live, solitude should teach us how to die.
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I cannot help thinking that the menace of Hell makes as many devils as the severe penal codes of inhuman humanity make villains.
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Life is too short for chess.
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A pretty woman is a welcome guest.
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