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Ada! sole daughter of my house and heart.
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
Daughter
House
Heart
Ada
Sole
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The English winter - ending in July to recommence in August
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My turn of mind is so given to taking things in the absurd point of view, that it breaks out in spite of me every now and then.
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I came to realize clearly that the mind is no other than the Mountain and the Rivers and the great wide Earth, the Sun and the Moon and the Sky”.
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I loved my country, and I hated him.
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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.
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This is to be mortal, And seek the things beyond mortality.
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Lord of himself that heritage of woe!
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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.
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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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Sweet is old wine in bottles, ale in barrels.
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Sighing that Nature formed but one such man, and broke the die.
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The premises are so delightfully extensive, that two people might live together without ever seeing, hearing or meeting.
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Then, fare thee well, deceitful Maid!
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Religion-freedom-vengeance-what you will, A word's enough to raise mankind to kill.
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Father of Light! great God of Heaven! Hear'st thou the accents of despair? Can guilt like man's be e'er forgiven? Can vice atone for crimes by prayer.
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The mind can make substance, and people planets of its own with beings brighter than have been, and give a breath to forms which can outlive all flesh.
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Despair and Genius are too oft connected
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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!
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I am never long, even in the society of her I love, without yearning for the company of my lamp and my library.
Lord Byron
Fair Greece! sad relic of departed worth! Immortal, though no more! though fallen, great!
Lord Byron
